Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  Nick grabbed his sleeve to stop him, and Linc turned to find him halfway across the bar. “Dude. Wait.” Growling, he decided to listen to one more sentence and then he was going home.

  “She doesn’t want me, either. So what’s the fucking point?” He sounded like a pouty four-year-old, so he clamped his mouth shut before more shit could spew out of his face. A spectral arm wrapped itself around Linc, hands moving toward his crotch, and the scent of lavender water told him exactly who it was. Nick’s ghost, Margot. “Dude, can you call off the lady of the night, here?” Nick only laughed at him, which pissed off Linc more. He shrugged out of the arms of the woman everyone speculated was an old saloon girl, hitting on men still to this day.

  “Have you talked to her, or have you been your usual, outgoing self?” Nick’s sarcasm shone in the way his lips were twisted. Fucktard.

  “I’ve been doing stuff out of that book she gave me because women like that shit. But I just overheard her tell Kristie she didn’t want to ask me out. So why bother? I’m done.” The feel of the arms was gone, but the scent lingered, and Linc idly wondered what advice Margot would give if she could. Then he dismissed the thought. He had enough meddling ghosts with Harold.

  The corners of Nick’s mouth twitched and Linc let out a warning from the back of his throat. Thankfully, Nick kept his smile to himself. “Okay, I’m not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole, but maybe she doesn’t want to ask you out because she doesn’t think you’re interested. I bet you’ve been over there, doing whatever, and not letting her get to know you. She doesn’t need to know you’re an ex-con right off the bat. Just give her something. Chicks like to know all about feelings and shit. Have you told her anything that gives you the feels?”

  Linc bristled at the ex-con comment but could see he was right, to a point. “The feels?”

  Nick shrugged. “Chicks want to know what makes guys feel. Good, bad, horny, everything. They’re into that shit. Give her something. Tell her you like kittens.”

  “Everybody likes kittens, dipshit.”

  “Not everybody. Just open up a dialogue with her. Give her something to go with, you know? Then go above and beyond and let her know what an upstanding douche you are.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vanessa was still mortified with Samantha’s comment about Linc needing a good woman in his life, trying to formulate a response to it, when Kristie started talking.

  “Why don’t you ask him out?” Kristie was still giving her a weird look.

  “I don’t want to…” under her breath she muttered, “I can’t read him for shit. He’s bi-polar.”

  Sam burst out in a side-splitting belly laugh. “Oh my God… That’s classic!” Doubled over, she held her belly, as if that would stop the laughter, and Vanessa could just stare at her.

  “What?“ Tiffany was standing in the corner, double-fisting wine and cheesecake. “I think he’s just shy. He acts like nobody will give him the time of day.” She grinned wickedly. “We all would, but apparently we’re not on the table. He won’t look at Sam’s friends.”

  Sam’s face straightened from the laughing fit and she turned to Vanessa. “I think you would be so good for him.”

  “Okay. Sometimes I think he wants me, then other times I think he doesn’t even want to be around me.” The futility in her voice was not lost on Vanessa. She sounded so weak and she hated that. She didn’t even like him; she just wanted to have sex with him, right? She hardly knew the man, except he was tender when he wanted to be, and nurturing, and thoughtful, and intelligent. Aw, hell. She liked him. “And then there’s the whole employee/employer thing. If we hook up, and it doesn’t work out, then it’ll be weird and I’ll have to find someone else to fix up my house.”

  “Speaking from experience,” Melanie started, amid a chorus of groans that made Vanessa giggle, but she ignored the others and continued. “Employers and employees and romance don’t go well together. At least not after eight years of it. Jeez… I really need to quit my job. Then maybe I can have a relationship with my husband again.” She drowned the last few words in her glass of wine as she sipped deeply.

  Wren stepped over to Melanie and rubbed her back in a reassuring gesture. “That’s what you get for marrying the boss, Mel. What else did you expect?”

  Melanie’s shoulders slumped. “Nooners,” she said, defeated.

  Vanessa giggled, and Samantha’s attention turned back to her. “What has he done? Like, to make you think he wants you sometimes?”

  “Ah, jeez. He flaunts his body, working without a shirt. But I think that’s just because I don’t have air conditioning yet. My house gets hotter than a mother.” She grabbed at a piece of pastry Kristie had brought over and proceeded to tell them about her helping with the sheetrock.

  Vanessa hadn’t even gotten to the part where he kept smelling her hair when Samantha broke in. “Okay, stop right there. He doesn’t need help with sheetrock. Ever. And Linc is the biggest prude about professionalism I’ve ever seen. He wouldn’t take his shirt off unless he was trying to get a rise out of you.” Samantha put a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. “Do this, Vanessa. He wants to ask you out, but he’s chicken. He’s sending you some serious signals, in his own way. I promise.”

  Tiffany asked, “What do you have to lose? Dude’s hotter than a firecracker. I’d do him in a heartbeat.” She waggled her eyebrows, and metal twinkled under the kitchen lights.

  “My handyman, that’s what,” Vanessa murmured.

  Kristie, who had been uncharacteristically silent through most of the exchange, said, “He was here.”

  Vanessa’s head snapped around to her. “What?”

  She actually looked sheepish, which was not a good look on Kristie. “That’s why I brought him up. He was standing behind you, eavesdropping.”

  Vanessa turned to look behind her into the doorway that led to the living room. “What did he hear?”

  Shrugging, Kristie said, “I’m not sure. He left when you said you couldn’t ask him out. It was a while back.”

  Samantha reached over and took her glass of wine out of her hand. “That was mean. You’re cut off.”

  “That’s my first glass!”

  Vanessa wasn’t interested in the women’s antics. “What do I do now? He thinks I don’t like him! He’s going to go back to being broody, and I can’t handle that! What if he starts putting his shirt back on?” She was only half kidding about that part.

  Simultaneous answers of “Ask him out,” mixed with “Make him sweat,” and “He’ll ask you eventually,” all served to frustrate her more. She dropped her head, shaking it lightly.

  Desperate for a change in subject, she lifted her head and asked, “Does anybody know the sheriff in town? Linc said he has puppies, and I want one.”

  “Dude, that’ll get Linc all sorts of hot and bothered,” Samantha groaned.

  Wren giggled while Melanie rolled her eyes. Kristie filled Vanessa in on whatever was going on around her, probably because she felt bad for playing with her while Linc was listening in. “Sheriff Tate Hughes gets Sam hot and bothered, too, but in a completely different way.” She winked at Vanessa while she nudged Samantha’s shoulder, and Vanessa saw the blonde was blushing furiously. “They have a bit of high school history, and Linc caught them bumping uglies. He beat the shit out of Tate, and they haven’t really spoken much since. Of course, there’s more to the story, and a bunch of stuff I probably don’t even know, but I’m sure Samantha would be happy to call him for you.”

  “I’ll just get his number. You don’t have to call him,” Vanessa said, not really wanting to piss off Linc, but realizing he was too easy to rile up. Maybe she should call him.

  “Just watch out, he’s a relentless flirt. Do not fall for the hat-tipping trick,” Samantha muttered. “It’s all sorts of evil.”

  Wren laughed out loud. “Not everybody has a thing for cowboys like you do, Sam.”

  “We talking about Jennifer Theriot tonight,
or what? Joe’s gonna get pissed if I’m home late on a work night,” Melanie sighed over her wine.

  “Yeah, let’s get to it.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Linc was worn out after working on Vanessa’s house, and Cindy wasn’t on his list of things to do. Now, if he could just get her to grasp that fact.

  She was on his doorstep, and he was hoping to get her back in her car, headed home.

  “I told you we’re done, Cindy. You need to quit stopping by for a booty call.” Rubbing his hand up the back of his neck, trying to ease a few muscles that had cramped up since she got there, he continued, finding the guts to try to end this. Out of all the women in town, Cindy was really the only one to give him the time of day when it came to sex. And good Lord, he’d tried. Not with all the women in town, just enough to know not many would have him.

  Certainly not the one he wanted.

  What Cindy and Linc used to have was like lite beer. Cheap, readily available, and not the least bit fulfilling. And he was done with it.

  “Aw, come on, Linc. Don’t be that way.” She was standing on the steps of his trailer, still trying to get in, when his phone rang. Since it was on the counter in the kitchen, he had to go in and get it, and that’s when she slithered her way inside his home.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Linc. It’s Vanessa.”

  Speaking of women he’d never have a chance with… “Hey,” he croaked. She always left him tongue-tied, and the phone was apparently no different.

  “I just… wanted to see what was up?”

  Cindy had come inside and was rubbing on him like a whore on prom night. He was trying to listen to Vanessa and extract himself at the same time, when Cindy giggled like a damn hyena in his face.

  “Oh… You have company. I’m sorry.”

  “Wait!” he wasn’t trying to sound desperate, but it was totally how he came off. “She’s leaving.” He really wanted to talk to her, to get the guts to find out why she would never ask him out, but had no idea what to say with Cindy here rubbing his chest. He let out a hiss of frustration at the damn woman who couldn’t get a clue.

  “Yeah. I’ll just let you… get back to that.” Click.

  Fuck.

  “Cindy. Get the hell out.” Linc sighed as he said it, hoping to soften the blow, but the truth was, he couldn’t stand to look at her one more second. Linc knew she’d done it on purpose.

  She pouted, but did what she was told, and he didn’t feel the least bit guilty. Granted, they’d used each other for sex, but he was done with that. Even if he couldn’t get any from anyone else, he was finished with the town slut. It wasn’t fair to be with her, anyway, because all he could think about was Vanessa.

  Five minutes later, like a total pussy, he was stalking her on Facebook.

  There were all sorts of pictures with her and her friends in Victoria. She’d been in a serious relationship for a while, and the guy looked like a world class douchebag. She looked like a fun-loving girl, though—trips to the beach, barbecues, and her friends were all over her page. Lately, her posts had been about the progress on her house. She’d even mentioned Linc a couple of times, and pride swelled in his chest at the posts.

  “Linc’s a freaking master. Got my downstairs almost totally wired!!! Eeep! Now I can actually use my flat iron in the bathroom instead of the living room!”

  He checked out common friends and saw that Samantha’s little book group were all friends with her. Then Linc saw she was friends with that author, Vanessa Lovelace. Hmmm. He clicked on her profile. What would a chick who wrote that stuff look like?

  A warmth in his groin grew at the memory of the scenes in that book. Holy hell, that was some pretty hot stuff. Vanessa Lovelace didn’t have any pictures of herself, only half-naked guys. He didn’t scroll through, not wanting to see that shit. Clicking back to Vanessa’s profile, he impulsively sent her a friend request, and then slammed his laptop shut. He didn’t want to know if she wasn’t going to accept it or not.

  When his phone rang again, his heart was still pounding. Some part of Linc was afraid it would be Vanessa ready to rip him a new one for insinuating they were friends on Facebook, but a bigger part of him realized how stupid that was. He let out a breath when Samantha’s name showed up on the screen.

  “Hey,” he answered warily, wondering what she needed.

  “Hey, I wanted to let you know we’re going to The Pint tonight. Can you come?” She sounded her usually chipper self, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was a fake. But she wasn’t faking it;his sister’s always ridiculously happy. It’s a bit sickening.

  “I’m really wiped out, Sam,” he hedged. “Who’s we?”

  “Me and Vanessa. If I can get Kristie and Tiff and Wren there, I’m gonna. Melanie already said she can’t.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Be there, brother. Y’all need to hang out together when you’re not all serious and shit.”

  “Does she know you’re inviting me?” He remembered what she’d told Vanessa. Sam was trying to pimp Linc out, and he appreciated the thought, but honestly, he was perfectly capable of fucking things up all by himself.

  “Um…” Her hesitation told him it was a set-up, plain and simple.

  “That’s all I need. I’m probably not going to make it, Sam. I really am tired. I sheetrocked her ceiling today.” He ran his hand up the back of his neck, distracted.

  “Yeah, I heard about that. That’s why I’m inviting you. You like her.” Her taunting tone grated on Linc’s nerves. It was her sing-songy kid sister voice. And he was getting sick to death of people telling him he liked her. He knew he liked her. Everybody was acting like they were in fucking elementary school. He felt like he needed to check a box or something.

  “She already called. Besides, I’ve already been to The Pint tonight.”

  “Aw shit… Is Cindy over there?” Okay, so Sam’s not happy one hundred percent of the time. She could get mad, too. And Cindy usually did it.

  “No. Not anymore.” He had a hard time lying to his sister, much to his own detriment.

  “Well, never fucking mind then. Get your sleep.” Click. Okay, Linc had about had it with being hung up on tonight.

  Stripping off his clothes, Linc headed toward his bedroom. Bed. That’s what he needed. A good night’s sleep. The smell of cherry-scented pipe tobacco wafted into his room. Weird. Harold was almost exclusively a kitchen ghost.

  But as he laid down, all he could think of was Vanessa at The Pint, Nick hitting on her to piss Linc off, and her dancing with all the guys who saw her and thought she was fresh meat, ripe for the picking. The odd scent of roses and gun oil pervaded his nostrils. Now, even Harold was trying to get him to hook up with her. He sighed into the darkness.

  Fuck.

  “Alright, fine. I’ll go,” he muttered to Harold, or no one in particular.

  He jumped in the shower and got dressed. Linc may be a total pussy, but he wasn’t about to let Vanessa get pawed all damn night.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Twenty minutes later, after agreeing to go with Samantha, Vanessa found herself at the local watering hole, which she’d expected to be a total honky-tonk dive, but was pleasantly surprised.

  It actually looked sort of classy, in a laid-back sort of way. It was dimly lit, with black and white photos of celebrities and landmarks lining the wall. A large, mahogany bar lined one wall, and a small dance floor took up most of the central space, but there were a couple of pool tables and dart boards crowded in the small area in the back as well.

  It looked like its name. It was a pub. Vanessa immediately loved it. It gave off a hip, eclectic vibe, and she was drawn in.

  And then she was surrounded by guys. Not bad for a couple minutes’ worth of work. Too bad she wasn’t all that interested.

  She supposed Sam knew most of these guys because she’d grown up here. Samantha pointed out Tate Hughes, the sheriff who sat at the bar, watching everyone, and Nick, the ba
r owner. Kristie’s fiancé and his brother were there. The fiancé was hot, the brother, not so much. Um, hello. Hair plugs? Just. No. Then there was another guy, Gus, who stank to high heaven, and Oscar, who appeared to be the village idiot. A creepy chill slithered up her spine when she spotted the unmistakable hooked nose and fedora of the warden in the corner, but he just watched everybody silently, and Vanessa told herself he was harmless. It wasn’t a huge crowd, but when Kristie, Wren, and Tiffany got there, it seemed like the swarm of revelers doubled.

  Or maybe that’s because Linc snuck in after them and perched himself on a barstool in a corner opposite the warden, not talking, just watching, brooding, and breathing all the air.

  Kristie planted a huge smack on Shane’s lips before dragging him onto the dance floor, and Tiffany held on to Sam’s arm, looking more than a little out of place with her blue hair and nose piercing. She kept cutting her eyes to Nick, and Vanessa took note of it, filing that away for later. Wren threw her arms around Vanessa in greeting and pulled her in for a hug.

  Gus’s eyes narrowed on Wren, and he watched as Wren grabbed a beer from Kristie and took a long pull. Then Nick whispered something in his ear, passed him something she couldn’t see, and he stalked to the other side of the bar and climbed some stairs. Vanessa’s writer-brain was curious, and she wanted to ask what it was all about.

  The next thing she knew, Nick was passing her a shot and kissing her hand with a smirk. He was god-awful good looking, although not a hot as Linc, who was scowling at him from the corner. They must not really be friends. Then the pool champ passed her a beer, and she was whisked onto the dance floor by Chaz, Shane’s hair-plugged older brother.

  Turned out, Chaz was actually sort of nice. Vanessa found out his family was one of the founding families in Mystic, so she told him about her diary find. She actually hadn’t read much since the little brother, Jamie, died, but she wanted to. He seemed mildly interested and was about to ask her something when someone cut in to dance.