Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “The Jamie Dornan clone in the corner.” The music is blasting, and we have to shout.

  “You think every hot guy looks like Jamie Dornan.”

  “I do not.” Her eyes slant, and I defend my position. “Jamie Dornan has a very standard, hot-Anglo guy look.”

  “Are you saying all hot white guys look alike?”

  “I am not saying that. It’s racist. You’re saying that.”

  “Good thing I’m white.”

  Rolling my eyes, I shake her arm. “Whatever. He’s hot as fuck. Who is he?”

  She finally looks, then she starts bouncing up and down. “Oh! That’s Remington Key! I tried to introduce you to him at church, and you couldn’t be bothered.”

  My fingers clutch her arm tighter, and I pull her to me. “Please stop jumping and screaming his name. He’s not in BTS.”

  “You with the K-pop.” Her expression turns excited. “Just think, Mr. Right was waiting for you in a bar all along. It’s like the olden days!”

  “Ma says Mr. Right is waiting in church.” I’m still not sure if she meant Jesus…

  Drew’s eyes go even rounder if that’s possible. “You met Remi in church and now at a bar—that’s got to be a sign!”

  I steal a glance over my shoulder again, and he’s reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, giving me a glimpse of his cute butt.

  “I’ll tell you what’s a sign—that ass. You did not introduce me to him. I’d remember it.” Drew starts to argue, but I cut her off. “I’m going to investigate. Stay out of trouble.”

  She yells after me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “I never follow that rule.”

  She laughs, and I shake my head.

  Come to mamma, cute butt…

  2

  Remington

  I’m alone in a bar on a Friday night.

  Okay, technically, I was invited here by Dagwood Magee to join his fantasy football league. The only problem is I’ve been so buried in getting my investment business off the ground, researching new applications, studying industry trends, the market, rising stars, I can’t remember the last time I even saw a football game.

  I don’t have a team, I only know one person here, and I’m in an ancient, smoke-scented, crowded bar with a bunch of sweaty jocks. No joke—it’s a fucking sausage fest.

  At the same time, I’d rather be here than home right now.

  After another ridiculous fight with Eleanor, my increasingly overbearing mother-in-law, about spending time with my daughter Lillie, I’ve decided something has to give.

  Hell, all I’d wanted to do was watch Guardians of the Galaxy with Lillie, but no, Eleanor insisted it was too violent for a four-year-old.

  Lillie ended up crying, and I ended up furious.

  Sitting here now, I concede Eleanor was probably right.

  Still, I just wanted a fun daddy-daughter date, something we could both enjoy. Now I feel like a heel, and I’m alone in a bar. Dammit.

  Four years ago, after Sandy died, I didn’t mind if her mother moved in and took over the childcare. Lillie was her granddaughter, and I had no idea how to be a single dad to a newborn baby. I didn’t even know if I was going to survive losing my wife…

  I’d left the Navy, invented a series of apps to organize intelligence data then locate enemy combatants based on that data, sold it, made a billion, married Sandy, we got pregnant, and when the pregnancy turned high-risk, she wanted to move here to be closer to her mother.

  I thought my life was so perfect, so planned out… then it all fell apart. I was alone, and I didn’t know how to keep moving forward. I didn’t want to keep moving forward.

  I pulled away from everybody, burying myself in work, until a year ago. My daughter was walking, talking, needing a father, and I realized I had to make a change.

  Polishing off my whiskey, I think about the past year. The haze of grief had slowly lifted, and I saw my home life was a mess.

  My mother-in-law drives me crazy, and I need to regain control of the situation.

  I’ve considered returning to Seattle, but as much as I want to strangle her sometimes, I know being that far from Lillie would kill Eleanor.

  The old jukebox starts playing “Fly Me to the Moon,” and the bar erupts into drunk males singing loudly. I signal to the bartender to bring me another drink.

  Getting drunk is not a responsible solution to any problem.

  Which is why I’ll worry about this one tomorrow.

  I push my hair off my forehead and look around the room. If I’d known it was going to be all guys…

  My throat goes dry when I see her.

  She’s standing at the bar looking at me, and it’s like everything stops.

  Dark hair flows around her shoulders in silky waves, her eyes flash, and her body… Jesus. Soft shoulders, perfect tits, narrow waist, shapely legs… Our eyes meet again, and heat filters through my pelvis.

  I smile. She blinks and gives me a shy smile in return. When she turns away, I fish out my wallet to settle my tab. I want to go over and say hi. Maybe offer to buy her a drink.

  I’m just putting my wallet in my pocket when a sassy voice catches my attention. “Hey, sailor, new in town?”

  She’s standing right in front of me, and I lower slowly to sit on the barstool. She’s even prettier up close. Her eyes are so deep, and when she smiles, she has a little dimple right below the corner of her mouth. I want to kiss it. Then I want to make my way lower, biting her chin, tracing my tongue down her neck to those perfect little tits.

  Jesus. I don’t know if it’s the whiskey or the testosterone in the air, but I’m feeling thirsty for the first time in years.

  A year ago, when my therapist released me from grief counseling, she said I should try dating again. She said I should be open to moving forward with my life. She said I was ready. I disagreed with her… I didn’t think I could feel this way about another person ever again. Now, all I feel is it’s been so long.

  Clearing my throat, I grab the reins. “Sorry. I’ve lived here about four years.”

  Her slim brow furrows, and her voice changes. “Four years? You’re kidding me. What’s your name?”

  “Remi… Remington Key. I live in Eagleside Manor.” As the words come out, I wince a little. I don’t want her to think I’m bragging about living in Oakville’s only gated community.

  “Oh, really?” her eyebrows rise, and she turns as if to leave.

  I can’t help a laugh. “What is this? Reverse discrimination?” Carefully, I reach out to touch her arm. Despite my internal conflict, I don’t want her to go.

  She stops and faces me again, narrowing her eyes. “What are you doing in the Red Cat, Remington Key? Slumming?”

  “What are you doing in the Red Cat… I don’t know your name.” Although, I swear she looks familiar.

  “Ruby Banks.” She holds out a slim, ivory hand with perfectly manicured nails.

  Gently, I take it, covering it with both of mine. She studies our connection, and her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink.

  How can I not know everyone living in Oakville? It’s a testament to how little I get out these days, I guess. If it weren’t for Eleanor’s nagging, I wouldn’t even bother with church.

  “Nice to meet you, Ruby Banks.” Right as I say the words, it clicks. “We have met before.”

  Her shoulder rises, and she slips her hand out of mine. “I don’t think so.”

  “We did. I remember it now. It was after church one morning.” I look toward the bar, and I recognize her blonde friend, a.k.a., my former therapist. “You were with Drew… Isn’t that Andrea Harris?”

  She does a funny little fast-laugh. “That wasn’t me.”

  “But… it was.” I study her face. She won’t meet my eyes, so I try to lighten my tone. Maybe I’m being too forceful? “I was the guy with the squirmy four-year-old.”

  Another wince. I know admitting I’m a single dad probably kills any chance of getting a date with he
r.

  Wait… Is that what I want?

  It doesn’t matter.

  Loud commotion breaks out on the other side of the bar, interrupting our conversation.

  It’s hard to see what’s happening as the bodies crush together. The guys form a tight circle, and voices are raised. It sounds like a fight is breaking out. I hear the crash of what sounds like a body being shoved against the opposite wall.

  An unexpected surge of protectiveness grips me. Standing, I put my arm between Ruby and the chaos. “We should leave before it gets dangerous in here. Do you need a ride?”

  Her head whips back and forth. “No, I have my car… I’ve got to find Drew.” She pushes past my arm.

  “Wait… Ruby!” I do my best not to panic as I watch her disappear in a mass of oversized guys shoving back and forth.

  I try to follow her without starting a fight of my own. Interesting how guys are so quick to let girls pass in a crowd. Not so much for other guys.

  When I finally make it to her, she’s hugging Drew, who’s holding hands with another guy I know. Grayson Cole owns the garage in town. I thought he’d left.

  I can’t tell what’s happening, but it all seems to be resolved. Gray puts his arm around Drew, and they head for the door. Ruby watches them go with her hands clasped at her chest, and I recognize something in her face.

  It’s a feeling… A longing so familiar, an emotion I remember once having. One I want again. Could Drew be right? Am I ready?

  Once again our eyes meet, and again, it’s electric, She walks straight to me, a small act, but it feels significant.

  “What happened?”

  The crowd slowly disperses while Mose the bartender holds what looks like a Louisville slugger.

  Her hand slips into the crook of my arm, and she exhales a little sigh. “Do you believe in true love, Remington?”

  “You can call me Remi. And I think so…”

  I don’t say I’ve stopped believing in one true love. At least, I hope we’re allowed more than one. Otherwise, I’m fucked.

  We go to my old spot at the bar, and she releases me, taking the stool beside mine. Blinking away the dreamy expression, she tilts her head to the side. “What do you do for a living to afford a McMansion in Eagleton Manor?”

  I signal for drinks. “It’s not a McMansion, and I’ve done a lot of things. What’s your poison?”

  “Tequila Sunrise, and don’t dodge the question.”

  I grin and place our order. “I wasn’t dodging. I left the Navy and started working in tech.”

  “Ahh…” She nods. “Military guy. We get a lot of those around here.”

  “Right, because of Charleston.”

  “What did you do in tech?”

  “I sold a program to a group of investors, who in turn sold it to the government. It made a lot of money, and now I’m an investor looking for guys like me with great ideas.”

  I think about how hard I worked in those early days, how hard I work now. I should be more involved with Lillie. I’ve acted just like my dad. Shit, these past four years, I practically turned into a clone of the man.

  The bartender puts a whiskey in front of me and a salmon-colored mixed drink in front of Ruby. She takes a long sip, and I do the same.

  “So you’re like a philanthropist?”

  “I’m an investor. I give developers money to finish their work, and when it becomes successful—if it becomes successful—I get a nice payday. Whatever money I put up, plus profit.”

  “That is some serious first-world shit right there. Some serious illuminati shit. Are you trying to control the world, Remington?”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “I wish. I feel like I can’t even control my house.”

  She nods, taking a long sip of her drink. “I hear that.”

  “And what do you do, Ruby Banks, who doesn’t remember me from church?”

  Her small nose wrinkles, and she shakes her head. “That wasn’t me. It was some other, irresponsible person. I’m a very responsible, licensed therapist. Or at least I was.”

  That explains how she knows Drew. Leaning my elbow on the bar, I’m intrigued. “What do you mean you were?”

  “I can’t afford my client list.” She copies my move, putting her elbow on the bar. “Or my lack of one. Too bad I’m not in tech or you could throw some money my way.”

  “Call me as soon as you develop an app.”

  “I’ll do it.” She grins, and I notice her studying my left hand. “You’re not married, but you have a wiggly four-year-old. How’s that?”

  “My wife died.”

  “Oh!” She pulls back quickly. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” My hands go to my lap.

  “Do you still miss her?” Her brows are pulled together, and when I look up, I see genuine concern in her eyes.

  “Yes.” Then I scratch my head. “I’ll always miss her…” But maybe it’s time to stop being alone? I don’t know. “I’m starting to think I need help.”

  She leans forward. “It just so happens I have a lot of openings in my schedule. And I mean a lot.”

  “I think my most urgent concern is my daughter, Lillie.”

  “Does she have special needs?”

  My bright-eyed little sunbeam flickers through my mind. “No, she’s just four. She goes to preschool half days and then she’s home while I’m working. She’s active and playful, and my mother-in-law doesn’t believe in listening to me—”

  “Because she’s the grandmother.” Ruby nods as if she understands completely. “Grandparents are supposed to spoil them, feed them cake for breakfast. Not make them mind.”

  “Eleanor doesn’t feed her cake, but Lillie’s schedule is erratic. She never naps, so she’s cranky in the evenings. And the Barney videos—”

  “Oh, stop! Barney is the worst.” She holds up her hand, making a horrified face.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “He’s a big purple freak with weird eyes and a creepy voice.”

  I snort in my glass. “You clearly have strong feelings about him.”

  “Why does he move his arms like that? Goody goody!” She pins her elbows at her waist and does a hilarious T. Rex flap. “If I were a kid, I’d pee my pants crying.”

  It’s all too perfect. I know in that moment, this must happen.

  “Come work for me.” The words are out so fast, I can’t stop them. I don’t want to stop them.

  Ruby freezes mid-T. Rex flap. “You’re drunk.”

  “I’m serious.” Sitting straighter, I snap into boss mode. “You’re a licensed therapist. You’re clearly qualified, and I need help.”

  “Do you know what therapists do?”

  “I know what I do. I’m a problem solver, and we have parallel problems.”

  Her arms lower slowly, and I can tell she’s curious. “What would I do for you?”

  “Be Lillie’s nanny.” Her full lips quirk down, and I keep going. “You would live at my house, drive Lillie to and from school, do educational things with her in the afternoons… help with her meals and light housekeeping, bathe her, put her to bed…”

  “You want me to be a live-in nanny?” She’s not convinced, but I’m liking this idea more by the minute.

  “I’ve got plenty of room. You’ll share the whole top floor with Lillie, and that way if she needs anything during the night, you’ll be there to help her.”

  “Why can’t you help her?”

  “I have to work.”

  Concern lines her pretty face, and I decide to sweeten the deal. “I’ll pay you five hundred dollars a day.”

  She straightens so fast, she almost falls off her stool. I swallow a laugh and jump forward to catch her. The move puts us shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, and heat surges through my waist. She smells good, like flowers in the spring… she feels even better in my arms.

  In that moment, I’m vividly aware of how long it’s been since I’ve had sex.


  Her hands grip my biceps, moving higher as she regains her balance. She blinks up, and our noses almost touch. It’s amazing… until she steps back, out of my embrace.

  “You said five hundred dollars a day.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  “I don’t care if you’re drunk.” She sticks out her hand. “When do I start?”

  I catch it in a nice, firm handshake. “How about Monday? You could move your things tomorrow evening, meet Lillie, get a feel for the place… Is that too soon?”

  “We should have a contract or something… lay some ground rules. I’ve never been a nanny before.”

  I study this beautiful girl with bright, intelligent eyes. Her lips are red and full, and she smells like new roses. Not old lady roses, nice clean and crisp ones. I want to hold her in my arms again. I want to bury my face in her hair and slide my hands from her narrow waist, over her slim hips, cupping her ass and lifting her against the wall…

  In my current state, I see no conflict in having these feelings and offering her a job. In hindsight, I probably am drunk. Still, I know my instincts are always good.

  “I’ll put a contract together, and you can look over it tomorrow. If you’re at church, you can meet Lillie and let me know.”

  “One month.” She holds up a finger, and I tilt my head to the side.

  “What about it?”

  “We’ll have a one-month trial period.” Then she nods, standing in front of the bar and picking up her small bag. “We’ll meet tomorrow, and if the contract looks good, I’ll do a one-month trial period. After that, we can decide if I stay.”

  “You sure you’ve never done this before?”

  “I’m a professional. I cover all my bases.” Her phone is out, and she taps the pink Lyft app.

  “Give me your number.”

  She starts to object, then she backs down. “I was going to make a joke, but you’re right. You’ll need to be able to reach me.”

  Even if she decides not to work for me, I want to be able to reach her. Everything about this night is different, special. I’m sure it won’t happen again… like it’s the second chance I can’t let slip away.