Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection

by Hawkins, Jessica

  As if hearing my thoughts, Decker slides a cold beer in front of me. I lift my chin in greeting. The bartender salutes and strides off to help another customer. The place has a few perks, shitty decor be damned. I lift the bottle to my lips and take a long swig. The bitter hops hit my tongue, making me feel right at home. A bit of tension eases from my muscles. This is exactly what I needed.

  A cloud of lung-seizing perfume assaults my nostrils. I cringe against the sickly-sweet burn. A moment later, sharp fingernails dig into the flesh of my shoulder.

  “Hiya, Gray.” The scent is already suffocating me, and Trista’s nasally whine makes my ears bleed. I’m sure she means for the pitchy purr to be seductive. The breathy sound only succeeds at grating on my nerves. I pry her claws from the fierce grip she has on me.

  “It’s Grady.” I spit the words through clenched teeth. The reminder shouldn’t be necessary.

  Her responding giggle is acid in my veins. “You’re so funny. We’ve known each other long enough that I can use your nickname.”

  Something black and dirty twists inside of me. The fuck she can. Only one girl calls me that and she’s long gone. “Nah, Trista. Grady will do. Need something?”

  The question is a courtesy she doesn’t deserve, but I ask it all the same.

  She twirls a lock of her bleach-blonde hair. “Want some company?”

  A quick shake of my head. “Nope.”

  “Maybe you should think a little harder.”

  I snort at the innocent pout this chick is trying to pull off. Every man within a five-mile radius is well aware of the game she’s trying to play. Most fall victim to the tempting ploy. But I sure don’t.

  Trista’s fingers walk up my arm. “Come on, Grady. Just a drink.”

  The stool squeaks when I jerk away from her reach. “I’m all set. Go hassle some other sap.”

  “But Grady—”

  A clap to my back is a welcome interruption. “Hey, brother. What’s up?” Jace narrows his gaze at the scantily clad woman hovering by my side. “Am I intruding?”

  I let my lips pinch with the threat of a grin. “Nope. She was just saying goodbye.”

  Trista glares at my friend. Several awkward beats pass where the three of us stare at one another. Without another word, she huffs and stomps off.

  Jace eases down onto an empty seat. Smart move considering the likelihood of that shit breaking. Decker stops by long enough to pass him a cold beer. What can I say, the service is tough to beat.

  He enjoys a couple pulls and leans an elbow on the bar. “Trista?” Jace whistles. “That chick has been after your junk since high school. You’d think she’d get the message by now.”

  I snort. “Her perfume is killing brain cells. That’s gotta be it.”

  He taps his bottle against mine. “No shit. Smelling like a flower explosion isn’t sexy.”

  And that’s the truth. The most alluring scent is coconut with subtle hints of strawberry. It’s the aroma of forbidden desire. Just the memory makes my dick twitch, which in turn has me feeling like a filthy asshole. I tug at the waistband of my jeans and groan. If the guy sitting on my left knew I fantasize about his little sister, he’d likely string me up by the balls. When I glance over, Jace is studying me closer than I’m comfortable with. I almost tell him to knock it off.

  He tilts his head at me. “So, what’s up? Surprised to see you around while the sun is still out.”

  I pick at the grease under my nails. “Ran outta paint for the Drefter house. Called it an early day.”

  “Ah, gotcha. How’s the project going?”

  “Smooth, as always. These jobs are all simple restoration.”

  He nods. “And your place?”

  “That’s a challenge I can appreciate.” I smirk.

  “Glad to see something makes you smile.” The expression slips off my lips and Jace grunts. “Shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

  I scowl. “Nah, that makes me feel foolish. It’s just a house.”

  Jace grips my shoulder. “But it’s yours. Free and clear. You’re allowed to be proud of that.”

  I shake off his touch. “For now. I’m sure something will change that soon enough.”

  My mother immediately comes to mind. She’s a deeper money pit than the foreclosure I snatched up at bottom dollar. That thought turns my stomach. The brew I’d been enjoying turns sour with an unpleasant gurgle. I finish off my ruined beer and slam the empty bottle down. Decker walks over but I wave him off. It’s a one and done sort of afternoon. I stand and reach for my wallet. After settling up the tab, I turn to leave.

  “Going already?” Jace calls from behind me.

  I flick my gaze back at him. “Got shit to do.”

  My friend polishes off his drink. “Wait a second. I’ll walk out with you.”

  I push open the door with him on my heels. My bike waits for me out front along the curb.

  “Still can’t believe you bought a motorcycle.” Jace’s chuckle is full of disbelief.

  “Dude, it’s been six months. The shock value is long gone.”

  “Not to me. It’s one of those exotic fantasies for a man.”

  “That’s way too deep. It’s just a means of getting across town. This beauty is far cheaper than my truck to fill up. Maintenance is a breeze. A lot more fun to drive, too. And we both know you’re just jealous.”

  His grin borders on ridiculous. “Fuck yes, I am. But my folks would lose their shit.”

  I straddle my ride and lift the stand. “Still so concerned about what mommy and daddy dearest think?”

  Jace folds his arms. “Don’t pretend you aren’t. My mom is getting more gray hair thanks to your choice of transportation.”

  The never ceasing knot in my gut tightens. I keep my gaze on the setting horizon. “She shouldn’t worry about me.”

  “But she does,” he reminds in a tone too soft for this conversation.

  “I don’t need pity.” The accusation rips from my throat.

  Jace holds up a palm. “She cares about you, we all do. That has nothing to do with feeling bad for your stubborn ass. There’s a huge difference.”

  I grind my molars until dust collects. “Whatever. I gotta go.”

  He scoffs and shakes his head. “Yeah, yeah. Always bailing whenever the terrain gets a little tough.”

  There’s no good way for me to respond. I have nothing to say that will fix this. It’s a problem I’m more than aware of. But when life continues to shove me down, finding the strength to steer on a better route loses appeal. I slide my helmet on and crank the bike to life. The sharp rip of the engine drowns out any protest Jace might be voicing. I rev several times with extra power, my grip punishing. With a swift kick, I race off toward home.

  Main Street passes in a blur. I twist the throttle hard enough to send my bike up on one wheel. I’m being reckless, but my skin is itching for speed. To escape the sensation of being trapped. In the next second, I’m flying down the road far above the limit. This is the only way I truly feel free.

  The yellow divider guides my way. I focus on that as everything else fades to black. The vibrations beneath me are soothing and with each passing mile, tension melts away. It’s almost impossible to hear anything above the whipping wind and roaring exhaust. But I catch the blue and red flashing lights in my mirrors.

  Fuck.

  I make the effort to brake quickly, not wanting to further piss off the cop behind me. I steer my bike to the gravel shoulder and kill the engine. After tugging off my helmet, I blow out a heavy breath. This should be interesting.

  The echoing slap of boots on pavement warn me of the officer’s approach. I clench my eyes shut and search for patience that doesn’t exist.

  “Howdy, Grady. Know why I pulled you over?”

  I let my head fall. Not him. Anyone but this deputy dipshit. I glare over my shoulder at Lance Fucking Morris, also known as the biggest douchebag in Silo Springs. How he became a police officer is beyond me.

  “Not a
clue, man.”

  Lance shifts closer and stares down his pointy nose at me. I fucking hate being on lower ground. He doesn’t deserve to make me feel small. “I’m not your buddy, Grady. Be careful with who you’re offending. You’re speaking to an officer of the law and you will do so with some respect.”

  I offer him an exaggerated eye roll. “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Step off the motorcycle, sir.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Now,” he snaps.

  I pocket the key to my bike and swing off. A cocky grin curves my lips as I stand almost a foot taller than him. “Problem?”

  Lance resembles a weasel when he squints. “Turn around, hands behind your back.”

  A laugh scrapes out of me, lacking any trace of humor. “For real? You must be joking.”

  He removes a set of cuffs from his belt. “Are you resisting arrest?”

  “What the fuck am I being charged with?”

  “Don’t make this harder than necessary, Grady.”

  “This is bullshit,” I spit.

  But fighting is useless. This bully has a badge and will win in the long haul. I turn away painfully slow and offer up my crossed wrists. This isn’t my first rodeo. I highly doubt it’ll be my last.

  Cold metal pinches my skin, far tighter than required. I shoot him another glare. “Is that really fucking necessary?”

  Lance sneers. “Can’t be too careful in my line of work.”

  I tug against the harsh bonds. “You’re targeting me.”

  “Not hard to do. Like father, like son. I saw you pulling out of Howlers. Next time, try to avoid swerving.”

  Stinging heat rips up my spine. “I had one beer.”

  “Such a lightweight. No wonder you’re such a fuckup. This town doesn’t need

  you staining its good name.”

  “You’re such a shit, Morris. Worse than the punk-ass you were in high school.”

  Lance drags me toward his cruiser. “That might be the case. Big difference is I have the law to back me up.”

  “Isn’t that fucking swell. You’re a disgrace to the department.”

  He yanks open the rear passenger door and motions for me to get in. “It’ll be a pleasure to book you with disorderly conduct and verbal assault.”

  I force myself to follow orders, swooping onto the leather backseat. “Good luck getting that shit to stick.”

  “Any amount of time with you locked up is payment enough,” he says with a grin.

  “What about my bike?” It’s not my greatest concern at this moment, but a potential hassle might have him thinking twice.

  He rocks on his heels. “Not my concern. Have one of your cronies pick it up.”

  Lance shuts me inside with a reverberating slam. I can already picture the metal bars sliding closed and caging me in a microscopic cell. Bile rises, the foul flavor singeing my tongue. I scoot forward and swallow the urge to retch.

  “Hey, man. You don’t have to do this. Just let me out and we’ll go our separate ways.”

  He bangs against the bulletproof partition separating us. “Shut the fuck up, Grady. You’ve had plenty of chances.”

  The fuck I have. My luck ran dry when I was still in diapers.

  Lance is quiet as he drives us to the station. I can almost hear his brain rattling with effort. He smiles at me in the mirror. “Did you hear Sutton is coming home tomorrow?”

  Her name alone is a shot to my chest. Fuck, I almost double over. But my reaction is hidden from this asshole’s view. To him, my expression rivals a stone mask. The harsh look has granted me a reputation of being cold and unfeeling. Maybe that’s true. No one gives enough of a shit to dig deeper and see.

  Except her. But she might as well be ancient history.

  I’d leave this crooked, judgmental town if it wasn’t for my mother. She’s barely hanging on. Without me checking in, she’d waste away that much faster. Silo Springs has no hold on me beyond that. I scoff over the lie threatening to strangle me. There’s another reason, far more profound and significant. That truth prowls below the surface. My mother isn’t the only person I stay rooted in place for.

  Try as I damn might, Sutton has a hold on me. Nothing will ever come of that unyielding grip. Especially with the shitty way I treat her. But I can’t lower my guard. The bullshit indifference is my only defense to keep Sutton at arm’s length. Nothing more will ever develop between us, but I’m tethered to her all the same. She’s the only happy something in my life. Even with the distance we’ll always keep between us.

  So, I’m left in a city full of people who consider me the enemy. A worthless punk from deadbeat parents. There’s no real value to my name. I haven’t helped matters with my less than pleasant demeanor. Case in point as I sit in the bad end of a squad car.

  “Did you fall asleep? That one beer must have been strong.” Lance’s scratchy tone drags me into the present.

  My scowl reaches new lows. “I’m completely sober at this point, fuck you very much. Just not interested in chit-chatting with you.”

  He grunts. “You’re stuck back there. Make the most of it.”

  I sag against the seat and stretch my legs. “Noted.”

  “I’m going to ask her out.”

  “Who?” I close my eyes. Since Lance mentioned it, might as well try for a nap.

  “Sutton. Weren’t you listening?”

  I jolt to attention, my spine snapping ramrod straight. “And you’re taking a shot at her?” The words taste like sewage.

  “Why the hell not? She deserves an honest man. I can treat her right and provide anything she needs.”

  I fist my cuffed hands against the jab of harsh reality. He’s right, of course. This douche was raised on the proper side of the tracks. He’s from a family that happens to be stupid wealthy. The steady job is an added bonus. Still, he doesn’t need to gloat.

  A rushed breath hisses past my lips. “Good luck with that, buddy. I’m sure she met someone in college.” The idea alone is a dagger to my frozen heart. Sutton will never be mine, but she doesn’t need random assholes pawing at her. I can’t have her. No one else should either.

  Lance’s pearly whites flash in the rearview mirror reflection. “I can be patient.”

  Flames spark to life in my vision. I don’t give a shit about most things. People can do just about anything to me and it doesn’t matter. I’ve already been through worse. One bright spot remains, and he’s trying to take that away.

  Sutton Olsen is the only source of happy I’ve allowed myself. She’s an exception to most of my rules. But that’s a secret I’ll forever keep. It’s douchebags like Lance that will use my attachment to her against me.

  Involving her in this pissing contest was a very grave mistake. If this smarmy asshole attempts to lay a finger on her, he’ll find it broken. Keeping Lance Morris away from Sutton just became a top priority.

  3

  Sutton

  Happy something #124: The smell of fresh cut grass, especially in the morning.

  I step onto the porch and inhale a lungful of crisp air. That heavenly aroma rivals the rich hazelnut steaming from my mug. Streaks of morning sun filter through the luscious trees overhead. My mother’s beloved rooster crows from his roost on the barn roof. Getting reacquainted with this lifestyle will take minimal effort.

  After taking a slow sip of coffee, I continue surveying our slice of paradise. This sprawling land is a hearty dose of pure good, and a blessing for the soul. The fringes of apprehension fade with each passing moment. I stretch my arms out to the side, feeling the stress of finals and graduation and moving home vanish.

  There’s no sign of industrial smog or haze clogging the sky. The nearest glow from a stoplight is miles away. No buzz of bustling traffic can be heard. There aren’t any skyscrapers visible along the horizon. Out here, it’s just green grass and natural beauty.

  Almost on autopilot, I hop down the stairs and relax into an Adirondack chair seemingly
waiting for me. The sigh that escapes my lips can only be described as blissed-out. Acres of rolling fields span in every direction. Memories join my reverie, flickering within the rustic backdrop.

  I can see Jace throwing baseballs into the flat tire that’s still strung up on the large oak. My mom hanging wet laundry on the clothesline because nothing bought in a store smells better than pure sunshine. I squint and imagine my dad hauling a trailer, brimming with bales, toward the barn. And Grady, of course. He appears more often than anyone else. No surprise there. His presence is root-deep, like the very soil this house sits on. But one spot stands out against the others.

  Our swing still hangs from the sturdy maple branch. Goosebumps pebble along my skin when I recall the brush of his hands against me. No one pushed me higher than him, in all the ways that mattered.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  The serene melody chases those thoughts up into the clouds. I shift to face my mother while she descends the stairs. “Hi, momma.”

  “You’re awake early.”

  That earns her a laugh. “It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

  Her brow lifts. “My daughter used to sleep until noon during summer break.”

  “Well, consider that habit shattered. I can barely stay in bed past eight.”

  She sits in the chair beside me. “Never thought that’d happen. Jace was always my wake-up call. But here you are, up and out before me.”

  I smile at her. “Glad I can still surprise you.”

  My mom nods and takes a drink from her mug. “What’s on your agenda for the day?”

  “Oh, let me see. Finish unpacking. Set up my schedule for next week. Contact my clients. That sort of thing.” I shade my eyes when a blast of sunlight breaches the trees.

  She brushes some hair off my forehead. “Don’t forget to save space for relaxing and smelling the flowers. Kick your feet up, enjoy being home.”

  My mom isn’t aware that I’d been wading through syrupy nostalgia mere moments ago. My limbs are loose and there’s zero threat of strain. No troubles are finding me on this tranquil piece of lawn. Not yet, at least.