Tempting Love on Holly Lane
(Island County #5)
Karice Bolton
Copyright © 2016 Karice Bolton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any printed or electronic form, or stored in an unauthorized retrieval system, or transmitted in any form without permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, incidents, and events either are the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-10:0-9978787-0-3
ISBN-13:978-0-9978787-0-7
Edited by V. Clifton
Cover: DepositPhotos: © svl861
iStock: © Laoshi, ©id-art
Interior: B&B Formatting
Adobe Stock: ©beaubelle
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transferred in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author, including storage and sharing on any unauthorized document retrieval system.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events either are purely the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contact the Author
If you’d like to receive exclusive FREE novellas, learn about pre-orders, and be notified about new releases, sign up for Karice’s newsletter! Click here or go to Karice Bolton’s website
To contact the author, please visit her online at www.karicebolton.com or via
Instagram/Twitter/Facebook/Pinterest @KariceBolton.
You can also text KariceBooks to 313131 to receive a text from her on release days!
Dear Readers:
Thank you so much for reading Tempting Love on Holly Lane. Nick’s story is one that I’ve been looking forward to writing since Love Redone. As with all the books in the series, this book can be read as a standalone. Tempting Love has a touch—okay, maybe more than a touch—of holiday spirit and a bit of 80’s inspiration laced throughout. I loved writing every word, and I think that comes through as their story unfolds.
I really hope you enjoy Nick and Holly’s adventures and thank you for reading more about the characters of Island County. Chance’s story will be next! For those who don’t know, Chance is Jake’s brother from Forever Love on Fireweed Island.
I look forward to hearing your thoughts about Tempting Love. As always, feel free to message me, post, or leave a review so others can learn about Island County. Wishing you a wonderful holiday season and many thanks for reading Tempting Love.
Warmest wishes,
Karice
BOOKS BY KARICE BOLTON
LUKE FLETCHER SERIES
HIDDEN SINS
BURIED SINS
REDEMPTION
MIA
V MAFIA SERIES
BLAKE – FALL 2016
DEVIN – Coming Soon
JAXSON – Coming Soon
ISLAND COUNTY SERIES
FINDING LOVE IN FORGOTTEN COVE
LOVE REDONE IN HIDDEN HARBOR
TANLGED LOVE ON PELICAN POINT
FOREVER LOVE ON FIREWEED ISLAND
TEMPTING LOVE ON HOLLY LANE
A CHANCE AT LOVE ON MYSTIC BAY
BEYOND LOVE SERIES
BEYOND CONTROL
BEYOND DOUBT
BEYOND REASON
BEYOND INTENT
BEYOND CHANCE
BEYOND PROMISE
BEYOND the MISTLETOE
AFTERWORLD SERIES
Afterworld: Zombie RecruitZ
Afterworld: Zombie AlibiZ
Afterworld: Zombie UprisingZ
THE WITCH AVENUE SERIES
LONELY SOULS
ALTERED SOULS
RELEASED SOULS
SHATTERED SOULS
THE WATCHERS TRILOGY
AWAKENING
LEGIONS
CATACLYSM
TAKEN NOVELLA (A Watchers Prequel)
WHISPERS SERIES
WHISPERS IN THE WOODS: The Camp
WHISPERS ON CAMPUS: The Dorm – Coming Soon
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mia Excerpt
Contact the Author
About the Author
Chapter One
I looked around my tiny cabin and pure joy filled me to the brim. I was in the middle of nowhere with an acre of trees surrounding me. My cozy cottage—as I’d aptly named it—was a one-bedroom beauty in need of lots of work, but the bones offered amazing potential, or so the real estate agent promised me. I’d bought it from an older man who wanted to retire to Arizona so he could be closer to his daughter and her children.
I scanned the great room, which was empty and opened to a kitchen reminiscent of the seventies, complete with lime green wallpaper, where only a few boxes had been piled in the far corner along with my mp3 player placed gingerly on top.
This was the life!
No honking horns to wake me up at five in the morning or neighbors pounding on a thin wall, screaming to turn down the television.
I shimmied over to the front door to prop it open and peeked my head outside. A light dusting of snow covered the ground, but I’d somehow managed to overheat my little cabin with the wood fireplace, and I was dying even with the windows open. I couldn’t wait until the television got hooked up, but until then, I’d get to blast my music all weekend.
On that last thought, I grabbed the remote to my stereo and turned it on. I had a whole can of paint and a half-bottle of wine to get through tonight, and I was more than willing to complete both missions in a timely manner.
I took off my hoodie, poured myself glass number one, and opened the can of white paint as the theme song to Flashdance filled my little home.
My first DIY project was to paint the paneling in the great room. I twisted my blonde hair into a ponytail, tugged on my oversized tank top, and dipped the brush in the paint as Irene Cara told me to take my passion and make it happen, but before I could do that, I needed to turn up the stereo a little louder just because I could.
I’d escaped Manhattan!
A little twinge of sadness surfaced, but I quickly pushed it out of my head. Things happened for a reason, and I was meant to come to Fireweed Island to help my sister with her tea shop.
The synthesizer rattled the floor as I brushed the first stroke of white paint over the paneling, and I felt the music lift me up. It had been so long since I’d let music blast without a care in the world.
What had it been? Since college?
Once the brush ran out of paint, I took a sip of my red wine and reloaded. I kept What a Feeling on repeat and let the eighties music take me to my happy place. It wasn’t until I got halfway down the wall that I realized my little cabin was only getting hotter. The wood fireplace was really going to save on heating bills, but in the meant
ime, I had to figure out a way to cool off. I yanked my tank over my head and tossed it on the mustard-colored carpet and took a swig of my wine as the music pumped up my little space.
By the time I’d finished my second glass of wine, I’d started painting hearts on the wall and kept dancing like I was actually in Flashdance, and it never felt so good.
. . . until a sexy, masculine voice interrupted my last move.
“Excuse me. Was there a party on this street that I wasn’t invited to?” A man’s smooth voice echoed over the eighties soundtrack.
Covering the front of my bra with my free arm, I spun around in a blazing fury and held my paintbrush as a weapon between the man and myself.
But the moment I saw the guy at my door, I became nearly speechless at how good-looking he was in a rugged, cocky, so-not-my-type kind of way.
Great! I landed a nosy, albeit hot, lumberjack as a neighbor.
His gorgeous brown eyes connected with mine, and I felt a current run through my body, which was a really obnoxious reaction, considering I was standing here in a pair of ratty jeans and a bra.
“Who do you think you are, coming into my house?” I yelled over Irene Cara, waving the paintbrush at him.
“I’m technically not in your house.” He tapped the doorframe, and a piece of wood fell off.
The story of my life.
He looked down at the wood before picking it up and grinning.
“Glad you find it funny that my house is falling apart all around me.” My brow arched as I kept my elbow bent in front of me to cover up the red lace separating all of me from Mr. Sexy. “The new door I picked out is in my garage. I just haven’t had time to hang it.”
“I don’t find that funny at all.” He smirked. “But I do find a woman dancing to What a Feeling on repeat for the last three hours . . . funny.” His eyes glinted with intrigue, and I couldn’t help the flutter that erupted deep in my belly.
I grabbed the remote from the floor and turned the music down a few clicks before turning to face him again.
“It hasn’t been three hours,” I corrected, trying to hide my smile. “Can you toss me that hoodie by your foot?”
“That would require me stepping over the threshold. That okay with you?” His brow quirked and I bit my lip, nodding. “And it was three hours. I know because after the first hour, I couldn’t imagine that anyone could stomach it for one second longer.”
He shoved up the sleeve of his red plaid flannel shirt, and I couldn’t help but notice how muscular his bronzed forearm was as he bent over. His shirt molded perfectly across his wide shoulders and tight back muscles, which led to his lean, muscular legs that his jeans did a terrible job of hiding. I held in a sigh. Men certainly didn’t exist like this where I’d come from. The male species back there were more in-line with the wiry and pale variety from spending all day in skyscrapers.
He picked up the hoodie and tossed it over about a foot away from me before flashing a wry grin. He stood up and his dark hair fell over his brow.
“Nice aim, playboy.” I didn’t know if it was the wine or the new town, but I let my arm fall to my side before picking up my hoodie, and I watched the guy’s jaw nearly drop to the ground. “You’re welcome.” I winked, slid on my hoodie, and zipped it up.
“Wow. So you’re my new neighbor?” He took a step back as if I’d bite him, and who knew? Maybe I would.
This move was full of new beginnings.
“Sure am.” I bent over and reached for my glass of wine, correcting a little wobble as I stood back up and took a sip, watching him carefully. “You thirsty?”
“Nah. I’m good. I should probably head back. I have a pretty big order I’m working on.”
I kept my eyes on him and took another sip but noticed he wasn’t leaving.
“Welcome to State Road 26, neighbor.” He raked his fingers through his brown hair while trying really hard to keep his eyes on mine.
“Thank you.” I hid a smile.
He took in a deep breath and glanced at my fireplace, his eyes widening. “Shit. Your woodstove is overfired.”
“Huh?” I asked, watching him dash over to the fireplace and adjust some dial on the front of it. He stayed kneeling in front of the flames, waiting for something. “Did this come with a manual?”
“No.” My brows furrowed as I thought about where one might be. “Is everything okay?”
He stood up slowly and turned around. “You almost burned your house down, but other than that, I’d say your night’s going spectacularly well.”
“Are you serious?” A cold chill blasted through my veins as I looked at the fireplace.
“Yeah. You had the draft control on the ‘high burn’ setting, which is fine for heating up a cold room, but you want to adjust back to low or the stove will overfire.”
“What can happen then?” My pulse spiked.
“The fire burns too hot and can actually melt metal parts on the fireplace.” He bit his lip and glanced over my shoulder.
“Wow. Thank you. I can’t believe . . .” I followed his gaze to the only open box in the room and gasped.
He started laughing, and I ran to the box to block his view.
“That is a neck massager. My sister just brought it over.” I huffed and attempted to secure the flaps of the box. “I’ve been tense since the move.”
“Is that what they call them now?” He walked up behind me, and I swore I could nearly sense the testosterone rolling off him.
I couldn’t help but laugh. The truth was that it actually was a neck and shoulder massager. Working in front of a computer screen for so many years had made my shoulders and neck a tight mess, but it was shaped oddly.
“It just so happens that the shape is misleading. My chiropractor in New York recommended this brand, and it works wonders.”
“I bet it does.” His smile was infectious. “But I thought your sister brought it over.”
“I swear. It isn’t what it looks like.”
“Then why’d you run to the box so quickly?”
“Because I know what it looks like, and so far, you’ve managed to see a very different side of me. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“You mean you don’t always dance to eighties tunes in a red bra while drinking wine and painting?”
“Nope. First time.”
“I don’t know that I believe that.”
“I used to live in Manhattan in an apartment the size of the kitchen. Cranking my music is a luxury.” I sucked on my lip for a split second, and his eyes dropped to my mouth, sending electricity through my veins.
“And the dancing in a bra part?” he asked, his voice lowered.
“Well, that might not be an anomaly,” I confessed, grinning.
He sucked in a deep breath.
I liked that I caught him off-guard. It had been a long time since . . . well, since anything.
“Finding you in a bra isn’t as fun as finding Frank in one.” He chuckled, his eyes staying on mine. “True story.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “I don’t believe it. Frank? As in previous owner, Frank?”
He shrugged, a wry grin spreading across his lips.
“I don’t believe you.” I narrowed my eyes on my neighbor and stuck my hand out to distract myself from the chemistry I was feeling. “Holly Wildes.”
“Nice to meet you, Holly. I’m Nick Boren.” His smile nearly undid me as his hand left mine.
“Well, thank you for saving my house from burning down.” I cleared my throat. “But I have to get back to painting my living room.”
“Sure you do.” He nodded and glanced at the box with the neck massager.
“Do you usually spend your Friday nights spying on your neighbors?” I crossed my arms.
“Only the attractive ones.” Nick’s charm might work on the island girls, but not me. I’d been fooled one too many times by the arrogant males of Manhattan.
“Well, Frank was a silver fox,” I concluded. “I can s
ee how he kept your attention.”
Nick’s laughter filled my small cabin and my heart, which was quite disconcerting. I came to Fireweed Island to get away from people, not welcome them in, especially ones like Nick.
“He actually was,” Nick agreed, slowly making his way to the door. “You know, we’re expecting a snowstorm this weekend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Four inches isn’t exactly what I’d call a blizzard.”
His grin widened. “Maybe not in New York, but here it’s a different story. You have plenty of wood, food, water?”
“I’d say so.” My brows furrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“When a storm like this hits so early in the season, the power tends to go out, and the roads are generally not where you’d want to spend any time. I once got stuck on 405 for five hours because traffic came to a standstill once the snow started falling.”
From four inches of snow?
“I’m sure I’ll be just fine, but thank you for worrying about me.” I smiled.
“I’m not worried. I just don’t want to have to haul you and your shiny red Fiat out of a ditch somewhere.” He held up the piece of wood from my door. “I’ll come back tomorrow to fix this. Have a nice night daydreaming about becoming a stripper, Holly.”
“That isn’t what Flashdance is about,” I called after him.
Nick waved behind him as he trekked down my driveway, and it wasn’t until he was out of view that I realized I hadn’t taken a breath since he’d left.
Chapter Two
“Can you believe he thinks Flashdance is about stripping?” I looked over at my sister, Maddie, who was busy filling one of the tins with mint tea.
Maddie glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “I’m not sure that was the point he was trying to make.” She chuckled. “You were painting and gyrating in your bra.”
Tempting Love on Holly Lane (Island County Book 5) Page 1