Twenty Times Tempted: A Sexy Contemporary Romance Collection

by Petrova, Em

  He placed his cap on his head and brought the bill down low, levelling his gaze on hers. “For all of it. I’ve been a complete dumbass, and I want to start over.”

  “I wish we could, Linc.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever forget the coldness he’d treated her with the last time they were together. To her horror, he dropped to one knee, fishing around in his pocket, determination etched on his face.

  Vanessa panicked. “What the fuck are you doing? Please don’t propose.” She almost got down level with him to beg. If this was going to be a repeat of the scene with Ian, she wanted no part of it.

  He froze, and his features softened. “I thought that’s the only way to show you I’m going to do better.”

  She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “Don’t propose to show me you’ll do better, just do better! That’s all I want from you. I don’t want you to be anything you’re not, Linc. That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to understand from the get-go. I just want you. But you have to like you for that to happen.”

  He sank down to the grass, flipping a ring box between his hands. She sobbed at the sight. If only she could forget about everything, if he could make her forget. He reached out for her ankle and stroked it before tugging on it. His warm grasp was a little sweaty, but it was still strong, and wrapped completely around her ankle. Dammit if that didn’t make her think about sex.

  “Sit, Van.” His voice was low, questioning, so she complied. When he opened the box, her breath left her in a rush. It was the biggest flipping ruby she’d ever seen. “My great-great—Christ, I don’t know how many Greats… grandpa gave this to his bride. You know who they were?”

  She looked into his eyes, so different from the last time they’d been together, and shrugged. “Guess.”

  “How the hell should I know?” Irritation flustered her. She didn’t have a clue what he was getting at, and she just wanted it over and him to leave so she could lick the wounds she’d thought were healing. He’d just ripped them wide open again.

  “Isaack and Emily Ward.” He waited for it to dawn on her, and when it did, she nearly cried. They had made it. And they’d had a family. And the family was still here. And she was living in their house. And she was in love with their descendent. And best friends with another.

  He smirked at her and something swelled inside her chest. She tried to smother it, reminding it how hurt she was, but it was stronger than her. “Is your head spinning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mine did, too.”

  Vanessa grasped Linc’s hand in hers, turning it over and studying the working man’s hands. They were strong and capable, and they contradicted a lot of the man who owned them. At the same time, they spoke volumes. The callouses spoke of rough times. The swollen knuckles told of pain to come. He was insecure, unsure of himself, almost to a fault. Although, today, he seemed determined to make amends.

  She squeezed his palm between hers and looked up at the man who had captured her heart and then stomped all over it.

  “Linc, I’m sorry.” Vanessa just knew she couldn’t do this to herself again. He had to do more, but what? She had no clue. He had to figure out himself.

  His face fell, and her heart broke all over again.

  Gathering his legs up under him, he moved to stand. “I understand.”

  “Wait. It just can’t be this easy. I can’t give in without proof you won’t do this to me again. You broke my heart, Linc.”

  He pulled her to him roughly, crushing her to his chest. “I know. God-damn I know. And I’m so damn sorry, Van.”

  “I know you are,” she muttered against his chest. But he didn’t release her, probably because he knew she wasn’t finished. So she continued, her words squished against the solid heartbeat beneath her ear. “But I can’t forget all the shit you did. Believe me, I’ve tried. But the reminders are everywhere.”

  He squeezed her harder, as if he was trying to press her memories out of her. “What can I do?” His voice was choked, but he wasn’t releasing her, so she couldn’t see if he was crying or not.

  She pushed herself away, and he finally relented, releasing her. “I don’t know, Linc. But it can’t be this easy.”

  A tear tracked down his cheek, and he smiled a watery smile at her. “So this is it?” He waved the ring in the air, the sparkliness catching her eye. “None of this means anything?”

  He meant Isaack and Emily. “No, it does. It means it won’t be easy, Linc. I’ve got to believe you trust yourself. Like yourself. And you believe you deserve my love.”

  He gripped the back of his neck. “So we have to start over?” He looked hopeful and the emotion in his eyes ripped at her.

  “Something like that.”

  He took a deep breath, his chest swelling, and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. Exhaling, he said, “Okay. I can understand that.” He took a step toward her. “But I’m taking one thing.”

  “What?” What could he possibly take when he had every part of her she could imagine?

  Without answering her, he strode the two remaining steps between them and bent to capture her lips in his. She couldn’t take any more. She sobbed in relief at the feel of his lips moving across hers. Clutching his biceps, she went limp at his warmth, the warmth she wasn’t sure she would ever know again.

  But she had to stop it. He couldn’t just take what he wanted anymore. So she pushed him away, gently.

  “Christ, I’ve missed you.” He stopped kissing her, but his hands still stroked her hips.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Linc.” Vanessa managed a wan smile. This would be hard. She wanted to just open her arms and have him fall into them, but that would be too easy for him to break her heart.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow to figure out what Vic fucked up and start fixing it.” He grinned at her before plopping his baseball cap on his head, striding away with a wink.

  It was as if the kiss had changed him, given him a new purpose. Maybe in a way, it had.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Linc had to put roof plans on hold for an emergency search on the property neighboring Vanessa’s place. The girl was still missing, and Tate said everything pointed to foul play. Linc showed up with the rest of Mystic—as well as several other towns in the county—to search for Collette Anderson, a seventeen-year-old girl who had disappeared two months ago, the night Linc had gotten the phone call from Sam saying someone was on Vanessa’s property. And he’d nearly beaten up Tate Hughes for scaring the hell out of Vanessa.

  Nearly a hundred people were organized in a line, ready to search a grid of property outside Vanessa’s house. Linc had begged her to stay behind and watch her house. With so many strangers on her property, he was nervous, especially because it was likely the person responsible for the disappearance was here in the search. A chill went up Linc’s spine as he looked at the faces.

  His family was there, as well as Nick and most of Samantha’s friends. Victor was there too, next to Linc, and then there was the rest of the town. Mrs. Hutchison, the hairdresser lady, even the warden and his son were there. Linc’s eyes narrowed on the warden. He was definitely a creepy fucker, dressed all in black with his fedora pulled low on his face. His son stood next to him, also all dressed in black, but that seemed to be more of a teenager thing. He looked bored out of his skull. There was also a guy with him, a new face for Linc, although he didn’t really pay too much attention to the kids in town. This new guy was a punky skater type, with spiked leather around his wrists, big fat earrings—whatever they were called—and bones around his neck. Gus was here, quiet and dirty, hanging out around the edges of the crowd. Shane and Chaz were there, looking officious and better than everyone else with their khaki pants and polo shirts. Then there were several others who Linc knew but didn’t speak to—he simply nodded and offered a grim smile in acknowledgement. This wasn’t really a happy occasion. Nobody expected to find the girl healthy or alive out here in the woods.

  As they began walking, a
sober quiet fell over everyone. Linc took one last look at Vanessa’s house and saw her watching out the window with a sad look on her face. He hated to leave her there but felt better about her there than away, where anyone could get inside her home. At least with her watching out the window, people would know she was there, and hopefully would be less likely to break in and steal shit.

  Eyes peeled, Linc took careful steps, along with everyone else. They spoke in quiet murmurs, trying not to break the tranquility of the pine forest around them. Footfalls were soft on pine needles, with the occasional crunch of a twig or pine cone.

  Linc breathed deeply, inhaling the soothing fragrances around him. It was sad they were hoping to find a body out here, to put an end to the pain of the family. But the family, and apparently Tate Hughes, had lost hope of finding her alive. At least finding her body could answer some questions. So that’s what they were hoping for. Of course, Linc realized everyone’s ultimate hope was she would turn up safe and healthy, but odds of that were slim.

  “I wanted to talk to you, Linc.” Vic was next to him and spoke softly, probably unwilling to break the uneasy hush that had quieted everyone.

  “Shoot,” Linc replied. He was eager to get his thoughts out of the grim hole they were in.

  “I wanted to tell you I hope you work things out with my sister. I know you’re a good guy who’s fucked up. Most of us have fucked up some time, you know? You seem to be trying to make good on it.” Linc appreciated the words, but Vic wasn’t finished. “The way you handled Ian at Vanessa’s house was cool. I would have beat the shit out of him. You took care of things and got out. Exactly like you needed to. I respect that. I was useless, and it sort of pisses me off I couldn’t be there for her, you know? She’s my sister.”

  “Yeah, thanks, man.” Suddenly uncomfortable with the praise, Linc turned the tables. “Speaking of sisters…” His eyes kept sweeping the landscape around him as he spoke. “You got something going on with Samantha?”

  “We’re just having some fun.” Linc stopped in his tracks to glare at Vic, who held his hands up innocently. “That was her idea, man. Not mine. I’m not doing anything she doesn’t want. Swear.”

  Linc studied him. Vic’s eyes were honest, and Linc decided to trust the dude. Samantha was grown. She could make her own choices. It’s not like she was a kid and fucking some older guy, like what had happened with Tate.

  “Hurt her, and I won’t just take care of shit and walk away. I’ll beat your ass into the ground.”

  “I hear ya,” Vic groused.

  They walked along in silence, looking for things Tate had told them to look for: clothing, a purse, a girl. Linc shivered.

  About thirty minutes into the slow progression, Linc saw a piece of blue fabric. Denim.

  “I got something.”

  The word was passed down the line, and Tate came his way. When the sheriff saw the fabric, he blew a whistle in three short blasts, giving everyone the signal to meet back up at Vanessa’s house. Then he got on his phone.

  “You go on back up with the others, Linc. Thanks.” Turning his back on Linc, he was dismissed.

  He’d found Collette.

  Linc trudged back to Vanessa’s house, immensely grateful he hadn’t seen more than a scrap of fabric. But he’d seen enough to know there was a pile under the scrap that implied a body lay under the carpet of pine needles.

  A girl had died out here.

  The walk back to Vanessa’s house was quicker than the walk out, and that terrified him. The killer had been close to her. He needed her in his arms. Now.

  Bypassing the curious onlookers in Vanessa’s yard, he strode up her porch steps and knocked on her door. When she opened it, he didn’t speak. He only took her in his arms and pushed her inside, shutting and locking the door behind them.

  She held him, gripping him tightly around his neck, and the feel of her under his hands brought him a peace he couldn’t understand, but he wanted.

  “Are you okay?” she asked into his neck.

  “No. I’m not okay.”

  “So y’all found her?”

  “I found her.”

  “Oh.” They still stood there, holding each other. Vanessa seemed to understand he didn’t need anything else, so she didn’t offer.

  Eventually, he broke away but continued touching her. His hand wrapped around hers, he led her to the kitchen as he looked in her fridge for some beer. Finding one, he twisted off the lid and took a long pull from the bottle, hoping to ease the acrid bile in the back of his throat. He looked at Vanessa, imprinting her in his brain. Good. Vanessa was light. Sunshine in his winter.

  She watched him carefully. Her eyes squinted with concern. “What do you need, Linc?”

  He shrugged, realizing he still held her hand. “I honestly don’t know. But you feel good.” Tugging her back into his arms, he realized he didn’t want sex. He did, but that was a constant thing when she was around. He wanted more than that, though.

  “I love you, Vanessa.”

  She looked up at him, shock in her features.

  “I know this isn’t the right time to talk about this, but death is so… certain. And seeing that girl out there, even though I didn’t even really see her, brought home to me exactly what you mean to me.” He cradled her face in his hands, pulling it inches away from his own. “And I love you. I will do whatever it takes to be with you. Life is too fucking short to not get what you want, and I want you.”

  But before he could take her, she put a finger up to his lips. Frustrated, he let out a huff around her finger, and she giggled.

  “I’ve been waiting for you to realize that,” she whispered. “I love you, too, Linc.”

  He kissed her then, bending her over his arm as he moved her out of the kitchen. “Bedroom’s upstairs now?”

  She nodded, not breaking the kiss, and Linc scooped her into his arms as he carried her up the stairs. He had some making up to do.

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later

  Tiffany had the night off from work, but Vanessa wanted her release party to be at The Pint, so she was at work, anyway. This time, she sat in a booth like a normal customer, and Vic was serving them, which was nice. Vanessa and Linc were canoodling in the seat across from her, while Melanie texted Wren to find out why she was late. Kristie was on the dance floor with her fiancé, and Sam was dancing with the sheriff, which had everyone entertained.

  There was a chemistry there, neither of them were acting on it, but it was cute to watch.

  Sheriff Hughes had been busy with the murdered girl on Vanessa’s property. As much as everyone hated the fact the girl had been found at Vanessa’s place, Tiffany was glad her family had some sort of closure. Although, the strained look in Tate’s eyes told of sleepless nights and countless leads with no outcome. Vanessa said she had asked him to take a night off to help her celebrate, and even though he wasn’t a ‘friend’ per se, she trusted him and wanted to buy the hard-working man a beer.

  Tiffany was excited about her new choices for her career. She’d never intended to be in the service industry forever, but if she didn’t do something soon, that’s exactly where she’d be. The editing job for Vanessa had led to a few others, and she was busier than she’d ever been before. It was good. Her boys deserved it.

  Vanessa’s third book in her series seemed to be doing well, if the advanced reviews were anything to go by. She’d published it yesterday, and it had already hit the top one hundred in the charts. Things were looking good for her. Hopefully they would look good for Tiffany, too.

  Tiffany watched Kristie and Shane dance like they were bored to tears, so she watched Sam and Tate for a while. They were certainly more fun.

  Wait. Were they about to kiss?

  She nudged Melanie, and they watched, rapt, as Sam looked up into Tate’s face. His grip slid around her hips, settled snugly inside the back pockets of her jeans. They could see the tension in his forearms as he squeezed her ass.

  Melanie giggl
ed into her hand.

  “Shhh…” Tiffany warned her. Looking over to Linc, she noticed he wasn’t paying a lick of attention to his sister getting felt up on the dance floor. She didn’t know the men well, but she knew enough that Linc didn’t like Tate messing around with Sam.

  Tate’s head dipped, and Sam’s eyes closed until they were a breath apart. They had stopped moving on the dance floor and were frozen in the slowest almost-kiss Tiffany had ever seen.

  All Sam needed was to stand on tip-toes and they’d be kissing.

  Before Tiffany could yell encouragement, Tate stepped back and felt his back pocket for something, a look of disappointment crossing his face. Tiffany groaned at the weird let-down. Even though Sam was messing around with Vic, there was something deeper with the sheriff.

  Bringing his phone up to his ear, he muttered something and stuck a finger in his other ear to drown out the bar noise.

  “What happened?” Melanie whispered, just as entranced as Tiffany.

  Tate’s face had gone ghost-white and he glanced over to the table where they sat before speaking into the phone again and putting it away. He clasped Sam’s elbow and led her back over to the table, getting Kristie’s attention on the way.

  When he got to them, his face was nothing short of grim.

  This didn’t bode well. At all.

  “Ladies,” he nodded, clearly uncomfortable. Tiffany’s stomach dropped before he spoke his next words. Whatever he had to say wasn’t good, judging by the look on his face. Even Nick was paying closer attention to them now.

  “Wren was just reported missing.”

  THE END

  Anne has written her entire life and has the boxes of angstfilled journals and poetry to prove it. She's been writing for public consumption for the last five years. Currently, Anne has two completed series out—the Four Winds, and Stories of Serendipity—and two in progress—Pierce Securities, and Book B!tches. She lives in rural East Texas with her husband and children in her own private oasis, where she prides herself in her complete lack of social skills, choosing instead to live with the people inside her head.