Just Like That

Book 4: Kings

by Lena Hendrix

Genres: Billionaires Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

In bestselling author Lena Hendrix’s fourth Kings novel, JP King finds his position as head of the King family’s powerful empire compromised by some unexpected news—and the irresistible woman who delivered it . . .

He’s my sister’s ex, a stubborn jerk, and completely off-limits.

Getting a man to give up custody of a son he didn’t know existed should have been easy. Trouble is, nothing with JP King is ever easy.

Suave, grumpy billionaires aren’t supposed to have strong hands or filthy mouths, and I never expected our snippy banter to be so much fun.

JP regards me as something he scraped off the bottom of his dress shoe, but when this reluctant single dad looks at my nephew, there’s a softness there he struggles to keep hidden.

He may be gruff and uptight, but something simmers beneath his controlled, polished exterior. Sure, I’m wild and reckless, but when we’re forced together as guardians, everything changes.

His cold and calculated exterior melts into hushed conversations and lingering stares. The more we fight, the harder we fall.

I’m scatterbrained, unconventional, and everything he’s been missing. The closer we get, the less we understand why we were ever at odds.

. . . until just like that our lives are turned upside down.

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 416

Sample

I lost the kid.

Four months into being his caretaker and I lost the damn kid.

I swallowed the panic that clawed at my throat as I scanned the bustling sidewalk of a town I had never been to before. Summer was waning, but apparently Western Michigan hadn’t gotten the memo. My armpits were sticky, and the thick strands of my hair were clinging to the back of my neck.

Think, think, think, think, think.

If you were a seven-year-old boy in a cutesy little town, where the hell would you go?

The town itself was picturesque. Off in the distance, about a half mile down the road, Lake Michigan sparkled, with the roadway cutting through the quaint little tourist town. Mom-and-pop shops dotted the sides, shoppers filtered in and out of the businesses, and storefronts had signs and sandwich boards enticing people to come inside to shop.

It would have been idyllic had it not been rapidly turning into the third-worst day of my life.

My eyes bounced across the storefronts that dotted the main drag in downtown Outtatowner, Michigan. I quickly dismissed the library, general store, and hardware store as I strode down the sidewalk with the sole purpose of finding my nephew. Crossing the street, I absently waved to a car that honked at me and continued peering through the bodies of people milling around each storefront.

“Teddy?” I called out. My heart rate ticked higher as I looked through each window in search of him.

A neon sign with a grinning skeleton and a beer in its hand gave me pause, but I doubted a lone child would go unnoticed in a local dive bar. I called out anyway and looked around the concrete planters along the sidewalk. “Teddy!”

A bit farther down was a small bakery, and I scanned the large picture window, hoping the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar had enticed my nephew.

Beyond that, the tattoo parlor was an unlikely choice.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Universe, please point me in the right direction.

When I opened my eyes, I squinted against the sun and looked down the sidewalk.

Oh, hello.

Outside the tattoo parlor were two men. One was laughing, heavily tattooed and seemingly lost in conversation, but the other . . .

The other was dressed in a bespoke navy suit. His watch glinted in the sunlight, and the dark sunglasses perched on his nose only highlighted his chiseled cheekbones. I swallowed hard and blinked rapidly.

What the hell, Universe? I need to find Teddy, not a midday orgasm.

I huffed and pushed the handsome stranger to the furthest recesses of my mind.

I looked beyond the downtown area toward Lake Michigan. Dread pooled in my stomach when, in the distance of the scenic town, my gaze landed on the lighthouse at the end of a pier.

He doesn’t know how to swim.

“TEDDY!” Fear laced with desperation as I screamed his name.

“Whoa, hey.” A woman stopped my forward progress. Her light-blond hair fell down her back, and her dark-brown eyes were kind, yet concerned. “Can I help you with something?”

Tears pricked at my eyes. “I lost him. I can’t believe I actually lost⁠—”

“Shh. Okay.” She held a hand up as she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed. Looking at me, she continued, “Give me the details. Name and age. Any idea what he was wearing?” Her attention was drawn to the other end of the phone as I struggled to recall the information she needed. “Hey, Amy, it’s Sylvie. I have a tourist here who’s lost a kid. I’m getting the details.”

She looked at me as my brain scrambled. “Um, his name is Teddy. He’s seven. About this high.” I held out my hand. “Black hair, bluish-green eyes. He was, um, wearing a plaid shirt—blue plaid with a little black bow tie and jean shorts.”

The woman’s eyebrows raised slightly at my description, but I continued looking over her shoulder and through the bustling crowd for my nephew.

“Did you get that? Yeah. Bow tie should be easy to spot. We’ll start looking downtown and I’ll alert the Bluebirds. You got it. Thanks.” Sylvie hung up the phone and placed her hands on the outside of my arms. “It’s okay. We’re going to find him. I called the police and they’re on it. He’s not the first little guy to wander off in Outtatowner.”

From behind us, a huge man with an apron covered in flour walked out of the bakery and looked right at the woman next to me. “Lost kid,” she said to him and relayed my description.

“On it,” he called out as he put a phone to his ear.

“That’s the bakery owner, Huck. Looks like the phone tree’s been activated.” She smiled at another storefront owner, who gave her a knowing nod.

Beside me, Sylvie called out to someone walking past. “Excuse me. Hi. We’re looking for a seven-year-old boy named Teddy. Plaid shirt and a bow tie. Please look out for him.” She walked down the sidewalk, then stopped to look at me and gestured for me to follow as she loudly announced to anyone nearby that Teddy was missing. “We’re looking for a seven-year-old boy named Teddy. Plaid shirt and a bow tie.”

We hurried down the sidewalk, and I watched in awe as more and more people exited their storefronts, temporarily closing their shops and joining us on the sidewalk, walking in all directions and searching for Teddy. Murmurs of the lost boy rippled through the town as we made our way down the sidewalk and toward the lakeshore in the distance.

Sylvie patted my arm as if she understood the intrusive thoughts streaming through my head. “Don’t worry. One of the first things we do is call the lifeguards on the beach. They’ll be on high alert looking for him too.”

I swallowed hard. My throat tightened as I squeaked out an emotion clogged “Thank you.”

With confident strides, the pretty blonde beside me walked down the sidewalk, calling out to anyone who would listen and help. When her phone rang, my heart jumped. “Hey, Whip, what’s up?” Her face brightened and she looked at me. “They got him.”

My lungs collapsed and I bent over, bracing my hands on my knees and trying to catch my breath.

“Oh, that’s great news,” Sylvie continued. “I can bring her by. See you soon.” The woman looped her arm in mine and helped me up. “Okay, Mama. Looks like Teddy is at the fire station. Let’s go get him.”

My heart lurched at her calling me Mama. I swallowed hard. “I’m actually his aunt.”

“Okay.” She simply shrugged and smiled as we continued walking.

“Is he all right?” My lower lip trembled, and I nearly lost it again before swallowing back the emotions.

Sylvie smiled. “Sounds like he’s got the fire department wrapped around his little finger already.”

We turned a corner, and in the distance an adorable small-town fire station came into view. Bright-red trucks were lined up outside, and one of the large bay doors was open. Mature trees lined the sidewalks, and a slight breeze kicked up from the lake. I sucked in a lungful of coastal air and tried to rein in my frantic emotions.

“He’s a slippery little sucker, huh?” Sylvie asked. There was no judgment in her voice, only kindness and a motherly knowing.

I smirked and a wry laugh pushed through my nose. “You have no idea.”

I had always been a wanderer. I guess Teddy and I were kindred spirits in that regard. In fact, it had only been since my sister died that I had really gotten to know my nephew. My entire life I had yearned to travel—odd jobs, a new city. When I outstayed my welcome in one place, I packed up and picked another dot on the map without a single regret.

Well . . . maybe a single regret.

I had missed my sister. My thoughts flicked to the pretty urn that was shoved in the back of a cabinet of the skoolie where I lived. Olive always knew what to do in every situation, and I didn’t even know what to do with her ashes.

When Teddy was born, I made a trip back to Chicago to visit her, but then I was gone again. We chatted over video, but life as a single mom was hectic for her. I visited only a handful of times in the seven years since his birth. I was finding my own adventures while Teddy had become Olive’s whole world.

My chest pinched. How was I ever going to be good enough for him?

“Do you have other kids?” Sylvie asked as we walked.

I laughed at the idea. I liked kids, I just always assumed I’d be one. “Just him—but he’s actually my nephew. His mom, my sister, died a few months back.”

“Oh.” She placed a hand over her heart. “I am so sorry to hear that.”

I kicked a stone as we marched toward the fire station.

The woman beside me was a stranger, but I found myself opening up to her. She had a calm and welcoming nature that reminded me a bit of my sister.

Strong and resilient.

“We were both kind of free spirits. Olive was always scheming, always one step ahead of everyone. Once she entered our town’s baking competition with a store-bought pie because the prize was two thousand dollars. When she won, they put her name and picture on a plaque, and she laughed every time we walked past it.”

There was a time when I had found that story funny and endearing, but hearing myself recount it aloud, it fell a little flat and kind of made Olive sound like a jerk.

I swallowed hard and backtracked. “She could charm anyone and everyone.”

Sylvie hummed.

I found myself nervously chattering as we walked. “When Olive found out she was pregnant at twenty-one, she wasn’t even scared. She was thrilled. She always seemed to know that everything would work out. I envied that.”

“My little sister is kind of like that,” Sylvie said. “She’s always so sure of herself.”

I offered a polite smile, and we continued walking in companionable silence as thoughts of my sister flooded my brain.

As her younger sister, I had been terrified for Olive—convinced her life was practically over. She had a string of ex-boyfriends, but none that we had ever met. When my mother demanded to know who the father was, she simply said, “It doesn’t matter. I’m taken care of, and I can do this on my own.”

Olive powered through and started her life as a single mother. My heart ached, knowing I hadn’t taken the time to really stop and check in with her . . . to make sure she was okay. I had been too wrapped up in the clout of a blooming social media page full of sponsorships and an exciting paycheck. I called often, but rarely came home for holidays and birthdays. Teddy knew me as a face on a screen and a few bills slipped inside a birthday card.

Why on earth did she think I could take care of him?

As we approached the fire station, I watched Teddy walk out of the open bay door with a firefighter’s helmet bobbling on his head. It was too large and heavy for him, so his neck dipped and his little hand came up to steady it.

Behind him were a small group of firefighters, dressed in black boots, navy tactical pants, and T-shirts with OFD embroidered over the left chest pocket.

I ran straight toward Teddy and kneeled in front of him. “There you are!” I wrapped him in a hug as his head struggled with the weight of the helmet. “I looked up and you were gone! You scared the shit out of me!”

“You aren’t supposed to say that in front of me,” Teddy chided. I couldn’t help but laugh and pull him in for another quick hug.

“Sorry, kid. I’m working on that.” I peered up at his striking blue-green eyes, emotion swimming in mine as relief washed over me. “You really scared me.”

His features fell, and he looked away. “Sorry. I just really, really wanted to⁠—”

“This guy belong to you?” a voice called from over Teddy’s shoulder.

I looked up to see a firefighter with a wide grin and playful eyes.

I stood and held out my hand. “Yes, thank you so much. I looked away for one second and he was gone.”

“I’m Lee Sullivan. It’s no problem. Heard the alert over the radio, and we were all keeping our eyes peeled. Turns out this little dude was on a mission.” Lee tapped the top of Teddy’s helmet, and my nephew’s cheeks turned pink as he grinned.

Another firefighter approached Sylvie. I put my arm around Teddy and tucked him into my side. I didn’t trust he wouldn’t bolt again, and I was still reeling from worry.

Their voices were hushed, but Sylvie and the man were close enough to overhear.

“I think you’re gonna want to stick around for this,” he whispered. “I had to call JP, and he’s on his way over.”

Hearing his name aloud sent a chill down my spine.

JP King.

He was the man we had set out to find, but I hadn’t been prepared to face him yet—not after everything my sister had revealed in her letter.

My stomach bunched, hoping no one had discovered the real reason Teddy was asking for him.

“JP?” Sylvie scoffed as she looked at the firefighter. “Why in the world did you call him?”

The man leaned in, but I could still discern the disbelief and concern laced in his voice. “Get this—the kid said JP’s his dad.”

I blanched.

Oh, fuck.

Thirty minutes earlier . . .

My shoes clacked on the sidewalk as I made efficient progress toward my small downtown office. The sidewalks were unusually busy for mid-August, even though it was still considered tourist season in Outtatowner. People were milling around, seemingly searching for something. They all appeared preoccupied by it, but I didn’t have time to stop and ask what new drama was unfolding in my small town.

Also, I didn’t care.

My life was already too full with carrying the stress of managing a billion-dollar company in the face of a scandal. It was plastered all over the news, and the sharks were out for blood. My father had royally fucked us, and I was charged with making it right.

Outside of his tattoo shop, my brother Royal was scanning the sidewalks when I approached.

He held out his hand in greeting. “JP.”

I nodded and took it. “Royal.”

I exhaled and squinted against the sun as we watched the tourists filter in and out of the downtown shops. “This fucking town . . .”

I was never supposed to be stuck here.

King Equities was meant to be the launching pad of my own successful empire, not the family company that had the potential to ruin my entire career—not to mention my reputation. If I wasn’t careful, my father’s actions would dismantle my entire life brick by brick.

“You could do it, you know,” Royal eventually said. I glanced over, unsure of what he meant. “Get out of here,” he clarified. “Start over in a big city where you can make a new name for yourself.”

I nodded slowly, looking down at my shoes and trying to find the right words to explain the many, many hours I’d spent dreaming of doing exactly that. “I could.” A shrug was all I could muster. “I might.”

Shock and disbelief at what my father was accused of had made its way through town like wildfire. He’d all but admitted he’d murdered our mother when we were children. She had found out about a second family in Chicago, and she’d had plans to leave him and take us with her. Instead, he took her from us, and we’d spent our entire lives believing she had simply abandoned us.

I was still grappling with the guilt that I’d blamed her for so long. She was trying to take us with her––to leave him behind and keep us safe––when he’d killed her for choosing her children over him.

Many in town went out of their way to express their support for our family. Others stood by the man they had thought my father to be and vehemently denied he was ever capable of murder.

They branded our mother a whore and a flake—claimed my father was a saint for raising six kids when she left him.

They have no idea of the hell we lived through.

I had the money and the power to leave it all behind me. All I had to do was sacrifice any relationship I had with my siblings and I’d be rid of them and the curse of the King name.

I simply didn’t have the balls to do it.

“Who am I kidding?” I sighed, hoping Royal didn’t detect the slight wistfulness in my voice. “There’s too much shit here to take care of. Who’s going to help you keep the Sullivans in check, if not me?”

Royal chuckled and clamped a hand on my shoulder. “I appreciate that. You know, I have been thinking Wyatt is due for a little pestering.”

Our small town was a ridiculous place where centuries-old family rivalries morphed into grown men pulling pranks on one another and acting like idiots for no good reason. At least, reasons none of us could remember.

Hell, our sister Sylvie had even married a Sullivan and had his kid.

I forced a smile and shook my head. “You are such a child.”

Royal pushed my arm. “Nah, I guess they’ve been all right.”

In fact, the family we’d been groomed to hate had been more than all right. Over the past three weeks, the Sullivan family had rallied behind us Kings after we’d uncovered that our father was behind the disappearance of our mother. He had let us all believe she’d left us as children, but we’d uncovered the truth.

He’d taken her from us because she had chosen to love her children more than him.

Together we petitioned the Department of Natural Resources to allow Wabash Lake to be dredged. We didn’t know what we might find, but if there was any chance our mother’s remains were there, we wanted to know.

I just wanted it behind us, once and for all.

“The Sullivans and Kings working together.” I shook my head. “It’s weird, though, right?”

Royal laughed. “So fucking weird.”

I crossed my arms to cover the tugging sensation at the center of my chest. Part of me was restless, wanting to get back to work and get shit done. The other part—the part that was acutely aware of the gaping hole in my chest that should contain a heart—warned me to at least try to connect with my older brother.

I simply wasn’t that guy.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little change around here is a good thing. Speaking of change . . .” I checked my watch, annoyed that our conversation was taking far too long already. “You planning to keep Veda around for a while?”

Royal unsuccessfully tried to suppress a grin. That man was down bad for his woman. Veda and I had been cordial business contacts in Chicago, and I had brought her into town to help me dig through my father’s business dealings.

It hadn’t taken long for Royal to charm his way into her heart.

Typical.

“Thinking about it. Why?” he asked.

I laid out the facts. “She’s fucking smart. And a hard worker too. I want to bring her onto the team full-time, but I don’t need you breaking my new employee’s heart and fucking with my plans.”

Royal’s face split into a wide grin. “If I get my way, she’ll be my wife, and then you’ll be stuck with her for the foreseeable future.”

I smiled back, satisfied. Having Veda on the team would double our efforts, and I needed someone as cutthroat and efficient as me. “Fantastic.” I shook his hand again. “Think she’ll want to officially sign on with a company that’s completely going to shit?”

Royal laughed. “I’m sure she’ll consider it a welcome challenge.”

I sighed. Though early, exhaustion was already settling in. I shook my head at Royal. “How you ended up with a woman like her is beyond me, brother.”

Before he could come back with a quippy response, my phone rang, flashing my brother Whip’s name across the screen.

I held up my hand, cutting off Royal’s response.

“JP,” Whip said over the line before I could even say hello. “You won’t believe this. I’ve got a kid here who says you’re his dad. You know anything about that? I swear, man, he’s⁠—”

“Wait, wait. Slow down. What the fuck are you talking about? Where are you?” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I’m at the fire station. Are you busy?” he asked.

“Yes.” It was ridiculous of him to even ask.

Whip scoffed and kept rattling on, despite my best efforts to brush him off. “You sure you didn’t steal from Dad’s playbook and have a secret family no one knows about?”

Irritation rolled off me. The constant comparisons between my father and me were plentiful. As if I needed another reminder.

“No,” I ground out.

“Cute kid. If he’s yours, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone. Just Emily . . . and Sylvie . . . plus Abel. Probably Royal and MJ too.” Humor danced across the line, and the ever-present knot between my shoulders tightened.

Of course he’d run his mouth to his fiancée and our siblings just to goad me. I wouldn’t expect any less of my ridiculous older brother.

I huffed. “Of course it’s not mine.”

Whip clicked his tongue in disbelief. “Well, he’s pretty convinced—knew your name and everything.” His chuckle grated on my already fried nerves. “The kid looks just like you, man. Are you absolutely sure?”

I sighed again, my mind spinning. I had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t going away until I dealt with it. “I don’t know—Jesus, I will be right there.”

I quickly ended the call and shoved the phone into the pocket of my slacks.

“Everything all right?” Royal’s eyes raked over me.

“I have to go—that was Whip. Apparently some kid at the fire station thinks I’m his dad.” The muscles in my jaw flexed, and a hammering throb pounded behind my eyes. Without looking back, I stormed down the sidewalk in the direction of the fire station. “I do not have time for this bullshit.”

* * *

By the time I got to the fire station, my feet were fucking killing me. Twelve hundred dollars for Bontoni Italian designer shoes and I was still losing circulation to my pinkie toes.

I should buy the company and sell it off piece by piece, simply for the inconvenience.

I flicked away the rogue thought and came up short when the small gathering in front of the fire station came into view.

My sister Sylvie was standing next to Whip. Concern pitched her brows forward as she whispered something to him.

Lee Sullivan was there with his ever-present, shit-eating grin. He was enjoying every second of whatever was unfolding, and I had a feeling it would come back to bite me in the ass if I didn’t tread lightly.

Beside him, a little kid was prattling on and keeping his attention.

As I approached, my eyes snagged on a pair of long, smooth legs peeking out of dangerously short denim cutoffs. Legs that seemed to go on forever before flaring out into full hips and a tight, round ass. The woman’s hair flowed down her back in wild yet pale strawberry blond waves. The unique color reminded me of an expensive French Rosé Belle champagne as it swung across her back.

Her tank top scooped low over impossibly perky breasts in a way that screamed distracting. Her soft brown eyes swept my way, locking onto my face. Every cell in my body sparked and sputtered as they tried to ignite but groaned from neglect. I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d had sex, and there was no way in hell I’d forget being with a woman who looked like her.

Relief flooded my system.

Clearly there was a misunderstanding and I could be back to the office in a matter of minutes. All I had to do was make yet another problem go away, and I’d be done with it.

I folded my hands in front of me as I stood in front of the mismatched group waiting outside the fire station.

The pretty redhead’s eyes widened, and I cleared my throat as a sudden shot of nerves hit me. Clearly I’d been more out of practice than I remembered.

I turned my attention to my brother Whip. “You called?”

His eyes bounced between the mystery woman and me. He must have been expecting some kind of spark of recognition, but the only spark I was feeling currently resided behind my zipper.

The kid stepped between us, his small hand raised in the air for a handshake. “Hello.”

I slowly took his hand in mine and shook. “Hello.”

“My name is Theodore Adams. You are my father.” He was so sure of himself it was almost endearing.

“Uh . . . hi. I’m JP King.” A soft chuckle rumbled out of me as we awkwardly shook hands. “I’m afraid you’re misinformed. I assure you, I am not your father.”

The sheer ridiculousness of it was laughable. No one would ever be so cursed as to have me as a father.

I had always been careful.

A light scoff puffed out of the redhead’s nose as she stepped forward, gently placing her hand on the kid’s forearm, breaking our handshake. “Teddy . . .”

Her whisper was husky and thick. Instant desire ran through me, and my mind wandered before I could shut it down. I wanted to soak her in and discover if her laugh was as rich and thick as her whisper. I suddenly wanted to know everything about the mystery woman in front of me.

The boy frowned at the woman, and she shook her head. “Bro, come on.” She shrugged. “You needed a better opener.”

Bro?

The woman guided Teddy beside her as she adjusted the strap of her oversize purse and lifted her warm, brown eyes.

Whip suppressed a smile before jumping in. “I caught Teddy here trying to climb into the Safe Souls baby box.”

My gaze flicked to the kid. He had dark hair and sharp bluish-green eyes, just like me. He was a good dresser—I’d give him that—but there was no way in hell he could be my kid.

He had to be what? Five? Seven? Hell, I couldn’t tell.

His nose was in the air as his small shoulder lifted. “Well, isn’t that how babies get dropped off?”

I glanced over to where a small box was built into the side of the building next to a red button to alert those inside when a newborn baby was surrendered and left by its caretakers.

My brows cinched down. “You’re kind of big. Did you really think you were going to fit inside that thing? Be real.”

The woman stepped forward. “You don’t have to speak to him like that.”

Her temper flared and I hated myself for liking her fire, just a little bit. Still, there was no way on earth I was this kid’s father. I sure as hell would have remembered rolling in the hay with a knockout like her. She wasn’t the type of woman a man wou. . .