Tempted by Love: Jack Jock Steele (The Steeles at Silver Island Book 1)

by Melissa Foster

  “I already have my hands full.”

  “I know you do, baby. How did your talk go with your bosses about holding events?”

  Daphne had forgotten she’d told her mother that she hoped to find the time to speak with them this week. “I haven’t talked with them, but the girls seemed to think they wouldn’t be open to the idea. I’m a little worried about bringing it up. I don’t want them to think I’m bored.”

  “Honey, you are a little bored. You have to speak up for yourself. Wasn’t that why they renovated the rec center? To hold events?”

  “Yes, but they’re so busy.” Daphne was so thankful for everything her bosses had done for her, and she felt a little guilty for even wanting more. They’d been flexible with her schedule when Hadley had been sick, they let her work through lunch to pick her up by five, and they rented her the apartment upstairs for practically nothing. She had a lot to be thankful for, and she was a little nervous about jeopardizing that.

  “Maybe they need a little nudge. They’ve got a gold mine in you, honey. They need to use the skills you have to offer, or you should find a job with a company who will.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Another call rang through, and Chloe’s name flashed on the screen. “Mom, I’ve got another call and a ton of work to do. Can I call you later?”

  “No need. I just wanted to touch base. Love you, honey. See you soon.”

  Daphne switched over to Chloe’s call and said, “Hi.”

  “We missed you at breakfast.”

  “I know, sorry. It was a crazy morning. Hadley insisted on changing her clothes three times and finally decided on the first outfit she’d tried on, and we spent twenty minutes looking for her stuffed bird, which we found in a cabinet where she’d made it a nest out of socks.”

  “I love that little munchkin so much,” Chloe said. “I thought maybe you were just too tired from your Scrabble date.”

  Daphne groaned. “I’m going to kill Emery.”

  “I can’t believe you spent time alone with Jock and didn’t tell me. What is going on? Emery said you two looked like you were about to tear each other’s clothes off.”

  “She said that?” Daphne sank back in her chair, panic blooming inside her. “That’s all I need, for Dean and the guys to think I’m going to get naked in the yard.”

  “Relax, they’d probably cheer you on.”

  “No, they would not, and it’s not like that anyway. Nothing is going on with me and Jock. We’re friends.” She thought about that for a second and said, “At least I think nothing is going on, but I don’t really know for sure. It’s all very confusing.”

  “Aw, Jock has you all flustered,” she teased.

  “Chloe, stop. This isn’t funny. I don’t know if we’re just friends, or if the almost-kiss last night was real or in my head. And it doesn’t matter because he can’t be around Hadley—”

  “Hold on! You had an almost-kiss?”

  “I think so,” she said nervously. “I mean, I wanted to kiss him, and it sure felt like he wanted to kiss me. But when he was on top of me, it felt like that, too, only we were laughing—”

  “On top of you? Okay, slow down. Tell me everything. Let’s see if I can decipher Jock’s man speak for you.”

  Daphne told her about Jock’s apology and the gifts he’d given her and Hadley, the way her heart had nearly leapt out of its chest when he’d leaned in to open her apartment door two nights ago, and about their hysterical wrestling match last night. “He wants to try to be better toward Hadley and, Chloe, he says the nicest things. He said I’m stunning and that he thinks about me all the time, but then he says things like it’s been a long time since he’s had a friend like me. So…friends, right?”

  “Maybe he’s hinting around the friends-with-benefits bush?”

  “Um, no thank you. I could never do that. I have a little girl to think about.”

  “Hadley would never know. Why not consider it? Jett and Tegan were friends with benefits, and now they’re engaged.”

  “Because I’m not Tegan.” She lowered her voice even though she was alone in the office and said, “I can’t open myself up like that and show him my mom bod without a commitment. I haven’t even been with a man since my ex. I’m sure I’d do everything wrong anyway.”

  “Daphne, your mom bod is gorgeous, and sex is like riding a bike.”

  “I fell off my two-wheeler so many times I had training wheels until I got my driver’s license. And Jock doesn’t strike me as a friends-with-benefits type of guy, either. He’s too genuine for that.”

  Chloe laughed. “Genuine?”

  “Real. Honest. I see it in his eyes, and I understand now why Tegan said he was worth being patient with. We laugh, and we talk, and…” She sighed. “I’m blowing it all out of proportion, aren’t I? I’ve been reading board books so long, I think I’ve forgotten how to read guys.”

  “You have not, and you read enough romance to stock a bookstore. If you ask me, you’re both tiptoeing around the chemistry we all see between you. And as far as Hadley goes, he said he’d try, right?”

  “Maybe you’re right about the chemistry, and he did say he’d try. But there’s definitely something in his past that caused his reaction to Hadley and Aaron. He said it was horrible, but he hasn’t told me exactly what it is.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “Maybe at some point. We’re getting to know each other better, but I really like him, Chloe, and that’s a little scary. When we all go out as a group, he’s funny and charming, but he holds back so much compared to when it’s just the two of us. You know how Justin looks at you like you’re all he sees?”

  “I love that look,” Chloe said.

  “Well, Jock looks at me like that, but also like he doesn’t know if he should kiss me or run away from me.”

  The office door opened, and a young couple walked in. Daphne stood up, smiling at them, and said, “Chloe, I have to run.”

  “Okay, we’ll catch up soon.”

  She ended the call and said, “Hi, I’m Daphne. Welcome to Bayside Resort.”

  “Hi,” the kind-eyed man said. “We’re the Wilmots. We have a cottage rented for the weekend.”

  “Yes, Kerry and Michael, right?” Daphne made a point of greeting guests by their names to make them feel special.

  “That’s right,” Kerry said, reaching for her husband’s hand. “We were referred by our friends who stayed here last summer, Mark and Ally Galloway.”

  “I remember them well,” Daphne said. “They played a lot of tennis, and Ally enjoyed the early-morning yoga classes at Summer House.”

  “You have a good memory,” Kerry said. “She told me to check out the yoga classes.”

  “I’ll give you a schedule right after we get you registered and set up with pool passes and a parking permit.” Daphne handed her the registration paperwork.

  As she finished checking them in, she told them about the facilities and pointed out the events flyers and booklets. She gave Kerry a pamphlet about Emery’s yoga classes, a map of the property, and the appropriate passes. “You’ll be in cottage number eleven. If you continue past the pool and follow the road to the left, you’ll pass cottages three through eight, and wrap around to the back of the property. Your cottage is the second one on the right. It’s one of my favorites. You have a view of the water and of the beautiful patio and garden designed and landscaped by one of the owners, Dean Masters. Dean’s wife, Emery, teaches the yoga classes at Summer House.”

  “How lovely,” Kerry said.

  “Thank you, Daphne. You’ve been very informative,” Michael said.

  “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll be here tomorrow, too, and my coworker Everett will be here Saturday and Sunday. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  She switched the phones to the answering service and walked outside with them. “The yoga classes are held at the inn next door.” She pointed to Summer House. “If you decide to take yoga classes,
you can sign up here with me or at their front desk.” She motioned toward the pool and said, “In the packet you’ll find the electronic key to open the gate for the pool and tennis courts. And that building at the end of the road is the recreation center. Feel free to use the games and the pool tables. If you need a full-service office, there are two in the building that are free for guests to use. We simply ask that you reserve them here first.”

  “Wow. I might never leave,” Kerry said. “Thank you so much.”

  “Enjoy your stay.” Daphne waited as they got into their car and waved as they drove away. She walked down the steps and tipped her face up to the sun, enjoying the warmth. She loved days like today, when the breeze was just strong enough to blow in through the office’s screen door. But nothing beat standing outside in the sun. She watched the Wilmots turn by Jock’s cottage and wondered what he was up to. His SUV was in the driveway, and she hoped he was writing.

  When she turned to go back inside, she noticed someone bent over farther down the driveway and went to go make sure they were okay.

  The man turned as she approached, and her heart skipped at the sight of Jock’s handsome face. Their eyes locked, and heat skated down her chest. Oh yeah, they had chemistry all right.

  “Hey, Daph.”

  “Hi.” Her eyes drifted down his bare chest, and as her gaze moved lower, the heat pooling low in her belly turned to panic at the sight of blood dripping down his knee and shin. “What happened?”

  “Hit and run.”

  “You got hit by a car?”

  “No, a bike. I was out for a run, trying to clear my head, and he came around the corner too fast. He didn’t see me.”

  “Oh my gosh! Are you hurt anywhere else? Was the biker okay?”

  “He was fine—just a few scratches—and I’m fine, really. I caught myself with my hands. Well, most of myself, anyway.”

  “That’s a lot of blood, Jock. You might need stitches.” She took his arm, tugging him toward the office. “Come with me. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Are you kidding? I know how guys are. I have a brother. You think if you slap duct tape on it, it’ll be fine. Trust me, it won’t.”

  “Hey, don’t knock duct tape,” he said as they entered the office.

  She pointed to her desk chair and said, “Sit. I’m going to get the first-aid kit.”

  She hurried into the storeroom for the first-aid kit, then went into the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. She grabbed two extras just in case, and a basin of water to rinse the cuts. When she came out, Jock was sitting with his back to her desk, his head resting on the back of the chair, eyes closed. Her fingers itched to touch his delicious-looking skin. What would it be like to run her fingers over his chest? To slide her tongue along his abs? A thrill darted through her, and she allowed her eyes to slide even lower. His black running shorts did little to hide the lust-inducing package she’d felt on her backside last night.

  Jock’s eyes opened, and a slow smile spread across his lips, jerking her back to the moment. What was wrong with her? He was bleeding and she was fantasizing about his…

  She tried to push away those thoughts as she went to him, doing her best to pretend he hadn’t caught her staring at his junk, and knelt in front of the chair to inspect his wounds. There were cuts and scrapes on his knee, a gash at the edge of his kneecap, and another beside his shinbone, which was also scraped up. Dirt and gravel were embedded in the cuts. “Oh, Jock,” she said softly. “That has to hurt.”

  “Nah. It’s just a few cuts.”

  “There’s gravel and dirt in them. I need to get it all out.” She looked up, meeting his dark eyes, and said, “I’m sorry for any pain I’m going to cause.”

  “There’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said with a wink.

  “Except an almost-three-year-old wrapped around your leg,” she teased, immediately feeling bad for doing so.

  “Low blow, blondie.”

  “Sorry. That wasn’t funny. I was just trying to take your mind off your cuts.”

  “My mind hasn’t been on my cuts since I saw you walking toward me outside.”

  There you go again, making me feel special. “You don’t have any bloodborne diseases I should know about, do you?”

  He held her gaze and said, “None. I’m clean as a whistle.”

  She pictured herself blowing his whistle and her whole body flamed.

  “What’s that blush for?” he asked.

  She glanced up, but his wolfish grin told her he already knew exactly what she was thinking, which made her entire body tingle and flame. She tried to focus on cleaning his cuts and not on the way he was watching her, but it was like working under a heat lamp. She dripped water over his cuts, patting lightly to get the surface dirt off. Even the sight of blood did nothing to tamp down the lust simmering inside her. Every time she patted his leg, the muscles twitched. He closed his eyes and rested his head back. She couldn’t help noticing that something else twitched when she touched him, too. She breathed deeply, trying to keep herself from thinking about that or peeking at it with every touch.

  Pure torture.

  When she finished cleaning away as much dirt as she was able, she poured a little alcohol on the tweezers and went to work on the gravel embedded in his cuts, saying, “The good news is that none of the cuts look deep enough for stitches. But this might hurt. I’m going to use tweezers to get out the pieces of gravel.”

  He gritted his teeth, sucking in sharp breaths and making a grunting noise every time she picked one out.

  “Too hard?” she asked.

  “No, keep going.”

  She plucked out another piece, and he gritted out, “Christ that was deep.”

  “I can stop.”

  “No, you’re good. Just keep going. Faster, if you can.”

  “How’s this?” She tried to use a lighter touch but had to dig in a little deeper for the tweezers to take purchase.

  “Holy…”

  “I thought you could handle anything,” she joked.

  “I didn’t expect you to go at me with teeth and nails.”

  “What is going on here?” Rick’s voice boomed as he plowed into the office.

  “Rick!” Daphne went up on her knees to see over the desk, panicked at the anger in his voice. Rick was scowling, standing beside Brody Brewer, their surfing instructor, who looked amused. “I was just helping Jock,” she explained. “He hurt himself.”

  “I want to hurt myself,” Brody said with a waggle of his brows.

  “That’s enough, Brewer.” Jock swiveled the chair and pushed to his feet, glowering at Brody.

  “Hey, Jock. Daph’s my girl.” Brody looked at Daphne and said, “One day I’m going to get her out on my board, right, babe?”

  Daphne was thoroughly confused by Rick’s anger and she had no idea how Jock knew Brody. Brody had been away for the last few weeks. “You two know each other?”

  “Yeah. He’s from Harborside. Levi and our cousins live there,” Jock explained. “Rick, I’m sorry to take Daphne away from her work. I had a run-in with a bike.”

  “No worries. I’m just happy you have pants on.” Rick scrubbed a hand down his face and said, “From out there it looked and sounded like something else was going on.”

  Jock shook his head, stifling a grin.

  It took Daphne a second to realize what Rick meant. “You thought I’d do that? Here? Anybody could see us through the screen door! That’s…that’s…” Exactly what I was thinking about when I was on my knees. Holy cow, she had been reading too much erotic romance.

  “I’m sorry, Daphne,” Rick said. “But you’ve got to admit, if you saw Jock’s bare shoulders and heard the things he was saying and the noises he was making, you’d wonder, too.”

  “I would not jump to that conclusion,” she insisted.

  Jock touched her arm and said, “Thanks for your help. I can finish this up at my cottage.”

  “No yo
u can’t,” she snapped, her annoyance at Rick thinking she was doing something dirty coming out at the wrong person. “Just sit down and let me finish.”

  Jock glanced at Rick, and Rick said, “I’d do what she says. She’s using her mom voice.”

  Brody chuckled.

  “C’mon, Brody, in my office.” Brody followed him into his office. Rick sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed, talking with Brody, but his eyes were trained on Daphne and Jock.

  She crouched to finish cleaning Jock’s wounds, hoping she wasn’t in trouble and frustrated that Rick would assume something like that about her.

  Jock leaned forward and ran his fingers along her jaw. “Guess I’m all yours, Daph.”

  She swallowed hard. He was dangerously charming. That seductive look in his eyes was surely meant to make her blush and tingle. Which it did. She tried to avoid looking at anything but his leg as he gritted out sounds at the poke of the tweezers. Rick was right—those were the type of sounds she knew she’d imagine coming from Jock late at night in the darkness of her bedroom.

  “Just so you know,” he said quietly, “those are not the noises I’d make if you and I were—”

  Her eyes shot up to his, silencing him and earning a sexy-as-sin grin. As much as she hated blushing, she loved their banter. Jock made it easier for her, joking and teasing her out of her disgruntled state. No man had ever flirted with her like he did, but it was more than the flirting that had her tied in knots. She had fun with Jock. She could let her guard down and tease him as much as he teased her, even dipping her toes into the sexual teasing pool, like she’d done last night—and she loved it.

  When she was finished, she sat back on her heels and said, “Are you heading home to shower?”

  Heat sparked in his eyes again. “Why? Do you make house calls?”

  “You’re impossible. As soon as you walk out that door, I’m going to google remedies for blushing so you can’t do that to me anymore.”

  “That’s just cruel and unusual punishment. I love seeing you blush.”

  He said it so sincerely, she almost felt bad for threatening to stop.