Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

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Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection Page 14

by Blue Saffire


  “Gwen!” Rosie tries to cut her off but she’s too late to shove that cat back in the bag.

  My eyes are glued to her face and her knitted brow. “Your parents in trouble?” I feel like even more of a shit-heel for not knowing one way or the other.

  “No.” Rosie gives her head a firm shake and produces a fake-ass smile for my benefit.

  “Somebody’s panties would be on fire,” Gwen begins in a sing-song tone. “If she was wearing any, that is.”

  Rosie throws her plastic fork at Gwen, who ducks, but not fast enough. The fork gets stuck in her hair but she laughs it off and proudly wears it like it’s a diamond tiara or some shit. The girl is nuts, but at least she’s entertaining.

  Rosie clearly thinks the money subject has been dropped, but there’s no damn way I’m letting it go. I get up and scrape the remains of my dinner into the trash bag before turning to Rosie and lifting my chin. “Hey, you wanna help me find some more firewood?”

  She sighs, understanding my motivation, and stands.

  It’s still light out and I’ve got the tree saw so we’ll be able to pick up some wood from fallen branches, but I’m not concerned about the fire. I’m concerned about Rosie and what the hell is going on at home. Luca never said anything, but then again, why would he when I’d made it clear I didn’t want to talk about Asheville or anyone residing there?

  I can hear Rosie’s footfalls behind me as I take us deeper into the canopy of trees. I don’t turn around when I speak. “So, are you gonna tell me what happened?”

  There’s no need to look back to know she’s scowling at me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but my dad got laid off last year. He’s been looking, but they’d have to leave Asheville for him to get anything comparable and they both refuse to leave.”

  That last part’s not surprising. There’s something about Asheville that sucks you in and makes it hard to break free. I know from experience.

  “My mom keeps pretending everything is fine, but her salary is even shittier than what my dad’s been able to pick up. I’m pretty sure they’ve blown through any retirement savings they had and they won’t sell that death trap of a house.”

  This makes me smile just a bit. The Carmichael’s house is full of what Adrina calls character—and by character she means floorboards that threaten to flip up and knock you out Looney-Tunes-style and the occasional wildlife that consider the dog door an invitation to move in.

  But the dire financial situation kills any amusement I might feel at the memories. “So you’ve been sending them money.” I glance back to see she’s got her thumbnail trapped between her teeth and the image sends me back in time. She always did that when she was thinking on something. I’d forgotten that.

  She releases her thumb and throws her arms out. “What else am I supposed to do? Luca and I are working as hard as we can, but he’s got student loans to pay off. Mine won’t come due until after I graduate, so I’m in a better position to help.”

  Fuck. I’m beginning to fully comprehend how well-deserved her greeting from yesterday was. Shithead, indeed.

  “Why didn’t you…” I trail off because there’s no way to end that question that makes any sense. Why didn’t you call me was what I was going to say, but the answer to that is already clear as this morning’s sky.

  She stops and I swear she stomps her foot like a ten-year-old. “How is this any of your business, anyway, Denny? You left.” She stalks closer and I turn around to fully face her—just in time, it seems, because she shoves me in the chest. Hard. “YOU LEFT!”

  I put my hands up and brace a foot behind me when I see a second shove coming. I won’t try to stop her. It’s well-deserved.

  “I never took you as a coward, Denny Brooks.” She’s trying to make her voice cold, but I can see the tears in her eyes and hear the tremble in her voice.

  I bring my hands in to cover hers where they lay flat against my t-shirt. My heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings and I’m sure she can feel it through my chest. I stroke the backs of her hands with my thumbs and slowly lean in until my forehead is resting against hers. She’s breathing hard.

  “You only saw what you wanted to see when you looked at me. I meant it when I said I was no good for you.” My words try to catch in my throat but I push them out.

  I continue the rhythmic movement of my thumbs against her smooth skin and inhale the scent of her. She still smells like sunshine against the river—a scent that’s hard to explain unless you live it like I do.

  Rosie sniffles. “I’m pretty sure you cited some state laws and tried to embarrass the shit out of me, but close enough.”

  I choke out a strangled laugh. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  7

  The third time Rosie Carmichael tried to kiss me was the week after my dad’s funeral.

  I’d timed my escape perfectly; Carter was back in D.C., Cash was at work, Lynn was at a friend’s house, Mama was out running errands, and who the hell knew where Miller was.

  I’d just graduated, so I was back in Asheville when the whole clusterfuck went down and our world imploded. My plan had been to work my regular summer job doing rafting tours in town until my new job as a Conservation Field Supervisor started in a couple months, but plans change. I was escaping to Colorado instead.

  The house felt so strange without my dad in it. His ugly-ass Crocs waited by the back door for him to slip his feet in them and the den still smelled like his favorite black coffee. It made no sense.

  I hefted my backpack on my shoulder and opened the door, only to find Rosina standing on the porch, thumbnail clenched between her teeth and hair pulled back in a braid. Her brow was furrowed when she looked up at me and released her thumb.

  “I saw you packing your car.”

  Dammit. Why hadn’t I considered my little watch dog?

  “Yup.” The less I said, the better.

  She followed me as I walked to my beat-up Ford and opened the back door to throw in my pack. She’d turned gangly in the last few years, her legs growing faster than the rest of her body could keep up. And she’d started making her own clothes, most of which were downright confusing with their mixed patterns and colors that threatened to burn your eyes. Today’s shirt was an oversized bright yellow abomination that reminded me of PacMan.

  “Where are you going?”

  I shut the door and leaned against it with a sigh. “I just need to get away for a while, Rosie. It’s no big deal.”

  “But.” She swallowed hard. “Your mama. Lynn.”

  Shit. I didn’t need her reminding me. I pushed off the door and scoffed. “You’re too young to understand.”

  She got up in my face, her voice stronger than I’d ever heard it. “Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m too young. I’m sixteen, Denny.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine, then. How about it’s none of your business, then?”

  Her eyes narrowed, pulling down her bushy eyebrows. “It is too my business.”

  I laughed at that, making her mouth go tight. “How do you figure?”

  Her chest expanded with a deep inhale as she looked to the side. “Because I love you, Denny Brooks.” And then she was all up in my face and rising to her toes, her pursed lips on a direct path to mine.

  I got my hand up just in time and her mouth brushed against my palm before I stepped back. “For Christ’s sake, Rosie. You’ve got to stop doing that!”

  She dropped back on her heels and her mouth twisted. Shit, she was gonna cry.

  I sighed. “I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anybody.” She sniffled as I continued, “And you only think you love me, but you’ll see I’m right.”

  This wasn’t helping so I switched tactics. “And, besides, there are laws about these things.” I figured her goody-two-shoes nature would at least respect the rule of law if nothing else. “Men want things you’re not ready to give, so don’t go chasing them. A grown man can’t date a teenager. It’s just… wrong. In so many way
s.”

  This made her blush, but she looked back up at me, tears swimming in her eyes. “Please, Denny, don’t go. Even if you don’t love me back, please stay. We can’t lose you too.”

  My skin caught fire at her words and flashes of white danced in my vision. Her final comment was a reflection of all my fears. We can’t lose you too. I was done with loss. With worry. With grief. I couldn’t take another blow. So I was leaving.

  I opened the front door of my car and climbed in on autopilot. “I’m sorry,” I said before closing it and turning my key in the ignition. I pulled out of the drive and tried not to glance at the rearview mirror, but it was out of my control. The last thing I saw of home was Rosie sinking to her knees in my driveway, her yellow shirt engulfing her whole body and her face buried in her hands.

  My forehead is still pressed to Rosie’s and her breathing has calmed, so I try to lighten the mood. “So, I assume you’re sewing skills have improved since people are actually paying for your stuff now?”

  She draws her head back and looks up at me. “I’ve always been an excellent sewer, for your information.”

  I smile. “Then maybe it’s your taste that’s improved because I remember some of the shit you used to wear.”

  Her jaw drops and she tries to pull her hands back, but I keep my grip on them. “I was just ahead of my time.” She looks down at the checked flannel shirt. “Besides, you’re one to talk when it comes to fashion.”

  “Hey, I saw that exact same pattern on some movie star the other day on TV.”

  Rosie raises a brow. “I can guaran-damn-tee you she hasn’t owned that shirt for ten years like this one. It’s sheer coincidence and nothing more.”

  She’s being playful again, which was my entire goal. “So why didn’t you go into fashion design or something?”

  Her responding laugh makes my stomach dip. “Because I didn’t want to work at McDonald's.”

  I want to object, but I can’t. “Touché.” She’s talking like a realist, but she’s supposed to still be a dreamer.

  “Are we getting some firewood or what?” When she pulls her hands back this time, I let them go. She’s either forgiven me for something or she’s chosen to set it aside.

  “Sure. I’ll even let you wield the tree saw.”

  This wins me a grin and I let her lead the way through the trees.

  By the time we get back from fetching firewood, Gwen and Brody have cleaned up and retreated to one of the tents, leaving Rosie and me to share the other one. Given the events of the afternoon, I’m no longer intent on trying anything on with her—not that I don’t want to lick her body from head to toe, but she’s made herself clear and I understand the importance of respecting that. I don’t ever want to hurt her again, if only to avoid seeing the shine of tears in her sky-blue eyes. The only playing I plan on doing is the kind where our clothes stay on.

  To that end, I unpack a deck of cards and tell Rosie to shuffle while I lay a couple new pieces of wood on the dwindling fire. We use a flat rock as our playing surface and Rosie turns on some music on her phone to drown out the hushed conversation coming from Gwen and Brody’s tent.

  “Gin?” She asks when I settle across from her.

  “You sure you wanna go there? It’s my specialty.”

  She tilts her head and throws a card down in front of me. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence. It just so happens to be mine too.”

  Her grin is naughty as she continues to deal. “Game on.”

  I win the first round by a small margin and Rosie blows me away on the second, claiming overall victory, despite my objection.

  My water bottle thuds as it lands on the rock. “That’s not how it works. When the Panthers win, it doesn’t matter if it’s by one point or forty, it still counts as a W.”

  She gathers the cards and stacks them. “That may be true, but I’m talking about rankings. Assuming an equal record, if the Panthers win a game by forty and the Falcons play a game the same day and win by one, the Panthers are definitely going to rank ahead of the Falcons.”

  “Wait. Am I the Falcons in your little scenario? ‘Cuz that’s not funny.”

  She shrugs and taps the deck on the rock to straighten the cards. “Hey, you’re the one who lives in Georgia.” She glances around meaningfully at our surroundings, knowing full well the Chattooga runs along the border of South Carolina and Georgia.

  “I live on the South Carolina side, thank you very much.” My tiny rental cabin is nestled in the woods firmly rooted in Carolina soil.

  “Fine, if you’re going to whine about it, let’s play a tie-breaker.” She moves to shuffle the cards again but I put a hand out to stop her.

  “All right, but not Gin. I have something else in mind for a tie-breaker.”

  I don’t know what possesses me. Maybe it’s nostalgia or maybe it’s just the need to get away from whatever may or may not be going on in the tent fifteen feet away. Whatever it is has me leading Rosie by the hand along a low rocky outcropping and up a set of stacked boulders to a path that starts on the raised section of ground above. We’ve both got headlights on, but it’s still a bit foolish of me to take her on this trek in the dark.

  Brody and I know this area like the backs of our hands, though, which is how we knew the best spot to stop for the night. We’d planned on surprising the girls with this little outing in the morning, but I can’t seem to wait until then.

  “Are there mountain lions out here?” Rosie asks from behind me. The path is too narrow for us to walk side-by-side.

  I glance back at her with a grin but get blinded by her headlight. “Ow.” I shield my eyes. “No, there are no mountain lions out here.”

  I hear her exhale of relief and resume walking. “But you might want to keep an eye out for black bears. Why do you think we hang all the food and garbage in a tree?”

  Her chest is plastered to my back before I even finish my question. I bust out laughing.

  She huffs and I can feel her warm breath on my skin. “Shut up.”

  We practically frog walk the rest of the way, but I don’t mind because it means the warmth of her full breasts presses against my back with each step. I’m almost disappointed when we reach our destination and come to a stop.

  “Well, here we are.”

  Rosie’s headlight illuminates the space as she looks around. “What is this?”

  I take her hand and pull her with me onto the expanse of smooth rock before us until we’re only a couple feet from the edge. “Stand still,” I command as I lean forward and point my headlight straight down into the water below.

  “Oh my God.” I can’t tell if she’s scared or just plain surprised.

  Now, normally, jumping twenty feet into a pool of water in the dark is about as smart as trying to shave your balls with a kitchen knife, but this is part of my stomping grounds. I know every rock and ripple in this swimming hole, so I can guarantee Rosie’s safety.

  “Go on, girl. Strip.” I say as I pull off my shirt.

  She tries to look appalled but ruins it by laughing. “It’s cold.”

  “Then you best get movin’.” I pull off everything but my board shorts before she’s even started on the buttons of the flannel shirt.

  She looks down to the water and then back at me again, this time adjusting her light so it doesn’t shine right in my face. “And how exactly is this a tie-breaker?”

  I waggle my brows and say, “Last one in is the loser,” before letting out a whoop and launching myself over the side.

  It takes her a minute, but Rosie finally jumps down with a screech that has me laughing. She surfaces, her headlight still glowing. Just about everything I own is waterproof, including the lights.

  “It’s frickin’ freezing!” she hollers as she wipes her face.

  “Oh, come on. You can take it.” I tread water and watch her rub her lips together. “Remember that time you tagged along with Luca and me to Sliding Rock?”

  That prompts a smile. “Yeah. My mom fo
rced you guys to take me and neither one of you talked to me the whole ride there.”

  “We were sixteen. We were jackasses.” I remember purposely ignoring her as she chatted on about some TV show the whole way. Luca and I were sure she’d chicken out once she saw the huge sixty-foot boulder with cold mountain water running like the devil down into the chilly pool below.

  “I still love that place.” Her smile grows wider and it’s dazzling.

  I laugh. “And you’re complaining about this water? It’s got to be at least twenty degrees warmer!”

  Instead of responding, she splashes me in the face. Okay, so it is a bit chilly, but my body is feeling nothing but warmth at her proximity. I wipe the water from my eyes and, quick as lightning, grab her and pretend I’m going to dunk her.

  “No! Stop!” She’s laughing and gripping onto my shoulders for purchase.

  I ease my grip and slide my hands down from her waist to her hips. My fingers flex on her skin of their own accord and she stops laughing. Water from her hair drips down either side of her face and I can feel her own fingers flex on the bare skin of my shoulders. Her eyes search my face and I have not one clue what she’s looking for.

  “Rosie.”

  She finally drops her gaze to my lips. “This doesn’t mean anything, you got that?” she asks before she brings her lips to mine.

  8

  Kissing while treading water is more difficult than it sounds, but I’m determined to master it if it takes my last breath to do so. The kiss is hot and wet, the latter having nothing at all to do with the water surrounding us. Rosie caresses my tongue with hers and lets out a little moan when I squeeze her hips in my palms.

  But I’m letting her control the kiss while I take care of keeping us above water. If I thought she would be shy about the kiss, I’m dead wrong because, before I know it, her hands are exploring my shoulders and back and she’s digging her nails in, which makes my dick hard as a rock. Then she’s slanting her mouth and wrapping her thighs around my hips. I groan and scrape my teeth along her lips as she presses her center against the length of my cock.

 

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