Besotted: An Enemies-to-Lovers Small-town Romance (Carmel Cove Book 3)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  I wouldn’t lie to her. And I couldn’t lie to myself any longer.

  There was going to be a next time.

  And a next next time.

  And, well, a lot of fucking times after that.

  I slid back into the bed next to her and cupped her cheek. My thumb brushed over the soft skin as I tipped her head up to mine, catching her half-lidded gaze.

  Whatever I’d planned to say vanished and instead, words slipped from my lips that I had no fucking clue where they came from—which could only mean they came from a place that wanted this without a sliver of fucking doubt.

  “Maybe you should live here.”

  Like she’d seen a ghost, Eve’s eyes shot open as she stammered, “W-What?”

  “You’re not going to live above the Pub.” My fingers tightened where they rested over her hip. “You can live here.”

  “But you live here.” Her head shook slightly with a subconscious jerk of discord. “No. I’m not going to kick you out of your own place just so that I don’t have to stay above the Pub.”

  My chest rumbled with a quick harsh laugh. It wasn’t really a laugh, more of a tortured smile that found a voice. “Who said you were going to kick me out?”

  There was the silence that only came in these moments when the gauntlet was thrown. Like the break of a wave, it took a second for the power of what had crashed to dissipate over us.

  Her palm flattened on my chest and I steeled as she pushed herself up to look down at me. Her hair tumbling over her shoulder and pooling like a silken scarf on top of me.

  “A-Are you telling me to move in with you?” She breathed out, quickly adding, “Of course, I don’t mean move-in, move-in. I mean just for the short term until I find a new place. To live with you. Temporarily. It probably won’t even take me that long—”

  My neck craned up, and I smothered her words with my mouth. It was truly the only effective way I’d found of silencing her when she needed it.

  “I’m telling you that you’re staying here until you find a place,” I grumbled against her lips before my head dropped back onto the pillow.

  I didn’t know what to call it. I didn’t know that it needed to be called anything. All I knew was that it meant she’d be here and safe and not having to stress. All I knew was that it meant I wouldn’t have to let her go quite yet.

  She stared down at me and even in the darkness of the room, I wasn’t sure anyone had ever seen me so clearly.

  “Okay,” she said softly, leaning down and pressing the sweetest damn kiss to my lips. “Thank you.”

  And in one moment, what started as two nights turned into two weeks.

  Fourteen days of permanence. Fourteen days of Eve.

  But instead of revolting me, I felt calmer, knowing she would be here. The agitation that lived inside me from the moment we moved here, the stirring that insisted I needed less and less of everything except loneliness… it stilled. And waited.

  It waited for more.

  More of anything with her.

  Eve

  “You really didn’t have to do this.”

  I slid down from the front seat of Miles’ Jeep, adjusting my short khaki shorts as soon as my feet touched the ground. A small moan slipped free, my body still deliciously sore from the way we’d had sex in the shower this morning.

  “Stop saying that, Eve. Of course, I don’t have to. I want to,” he growled, impatiently. The car door slammed shut behind me. “But I can’t believe you’ve been goin’ by yourself… to places like this. Does your brother know?”

  I winced and looked down the side street we’d just parked on as I adjusted my glasses.

  Of course, I’d told my siblings that I was looking for a new apartment and that living at Mick’s old place was just temporary. But, I may have neglected to tell them I was hunting using Airbnb and other online places rather than getting a realtor involved, and that meant when I went to check out the listings, I was normally alone.

  Just me and the owner of the space.

  “Sort of,” I offered weakly. “I know almost everyone in Carmel, really, Miles, there’s nothing to be worried about.” My statement carried about as much weight as a floatie sitting in a pool as a plastic bag blew down the alley and caught around my legs.

  Maybe this wasn’t the best one to start with, I realized too late.

  Here, you couldn’t smell the ocean. Instead, stale garbage reeked from the overflowing dumpster at the dead end of the street.

  Just like any town, there were certain streets that were less taken care of than others. The sad part was that it was by careless choice. It wasn’t that my friends were billionaires. It wasn’t that Laurel’s coffee shop or Addy’s safehouse or Benny’s pub or Isla’s flower shop made them so wealthy, it was their sense of community—their sense of pride in making their little corner of Carmel as safe and as friendly as possible that shone in the surroundings. But here… there was no such pride.

  There were no fresh flowers, only a patchwork of overgrown grass next to dead weeds. The buildings were poorly kept up. I could see a few shingles loose from down here. The listing had advertised a small balcony, which now that I was standing in front of it, I could see areas where the metal was rusted and weak and, no matter what the landlord said, probably was no longer safe to bear weight.

  I turned my head and met Miles’ disbelieving gaze as he held his arm forward for me to go first.

  We walked the few feet over cracked sidewalk and broken stone slabs to the front door of the building—a front door that Miles pulled open for me so he could examine the lock on the inside.

  Of course, the lock didn’t work.

  “Do you want the list of code violations I’ve seen already or would you prefer I wait until we’ve gone through the whole place?” he muttered in my ear.

  At least from behind me, he couldn’t see the way my face scrunched. Guess this place was off the potential list—a potential list that currently had zero candidates on it at the moment because Miles kept nixing them all.

  I’d hoped the inside was much better than the outside, but from the dirty linoleum tiles that peeled up in the corners, to the dirt and dust-covered walls that were so chipped it almost started to look like it had been done on purpose. Like buying a pair of ripped jeans—this building came pre-distressed.

  Letting out a sigh, I was about to turn around and tell him that we could just go and forget about this place when the owner, Eddie, sauntered down the stairs.

  I recognized him from the slim shady glasses he had on and the way his Travolta-greased black hair was slicked away from his face. What his photo on the listing sight had failed to include was the offensive Hawaiian shirt that wasn’t even buttoned all the way paired with shorts that were questionably shorter than mine. The ensemble was topped—or bottomed—off with knee-high socks underneath flip flops.

  “You Eve…” He paused and looked down at his phone. “…Williams?” His eyes narrowed on Miles, like he was annoyed I’d brought someone—a man—with me.

  “Yes, I’d messaged about—”

  “This way,” he cut me off and turned to trudge back upstairs without any more civilities.

  I shivered as Miles gently placed his hand on my waist as we climbed the dirt-framed stairs behind him.

  At the first small landing, Miles leaned in and warned, “No fuckin’ way you’re movin’ in here, Evie.”

  I had a mind to argue with him on principle, but as my nostrils were assaulted with the scent of marijuana, the words evaporated in my mouth. Yeah, there was no way I was going to live in this place.

  I’d sooner get a tent for the top of my car.

  It only took ten minutes for Eddie to show us the cramped one-bedroom apartment on the second floor. The kitchen was still filled with moldy food and garbage from the last tenants. When Miles asked him about the lock on the front door, I walked away to look at the bedroom again and saw a cockroach scurry through the space.

  Yeah, there was no way�
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  We were out of the building and back in the Jeep not even two minutes later and Kona was licking my face clean of any lingering dirt from the visit.

  “Where do you even find a place like that?” Miles grunted as we pulled away.

  I sunk into the seat. “Online.”

  “And it looked like that?”

  I didn’t respond. I should’ve known better when there weren’t any photos attached to the ad, but the price was really good, and I was running out of time. It had been a week and the other three places I managed to stop in and see between my jobs, Miles had already shot down based on location, lack of security, and a no-pet policy.

  Yes, a no-pet policy wasn’t acceptable for the woman who had… wait for it… No. Pets.

  “No, but the price was really good, and the options are slim. I still don’t understand why the building downtown wasn’t okay?”

  The no-pet building was in a great location and had been kept up well—I had photos to prove it.

  “They don’t allow pets, Eve. You can’t live there,” he muttered roughly.

  “But I don’t have any pets…” We’d already had this discussion, but I desperately wanted him to just tell me the truth.

  No pets meant no Kona. And no Kona meant no Miles.

  Okay, not exactly. Miles could come over without the dog, but after just a week of living together, we’d fallen into an easy routine that was only strange in the fact that it was so easy. But it was a routine that involved Kona.

  And I couldn’t say I hadn’t had immediate reservations when the landlord said no pets, knowing how much my heart would hurt to not see that puppy’s goofy mug welcome in my home.

  It was only temporary, I reminded myself.

  The housing situation… and Miles.

  “The next place is on Church Street by Our Lady of Mount Carmel,” I directed him as he pulled out onto Ocean Avenue.

  Another minute later and we were parking again, and the notion that Miles wasn’t going to approve of this place either sunk like a weight in the pit of my stomach.

  He helped me down from the passenger seat again, turning to squint up at the very plain and non-descript building right in front of us.

  Even though the entrance was right on the street, a few yards down from the entrance to the town’s Catholic church, I knew from the listing that there was a courtyard in the back and that the interior was religiously kept clean.

  Yeah, Miles was going to kill me for this one.

  “What is this pl—” He broke off as the door opened and one of the older nuns from the church greeted us with a warm and kindly smile.

  “Eve?” Her smile grew and, with her habit on, I couldn’t help but think that she looked like the eight ball in a game of pool: black and white and oh-so-round. “I’m Sister Jeanne. Please, come in.”

  This time, I didn’t look back at Miles, but I could feel his curious and disapproving stare burning a giant No on my back.

  It wasn’t that Miles had anything against the nuns or the church. I knew that wasn’t the case from the stories I’d heard this week about growing up in Texas, how involved his parents had been in their church community, and how that led to his and Mick’s adoption. But, as with anything associated with the Catholic church, I had a feeling there would be rules about interactions between men and women.

  “Now, which Madison brother are you?” The nun looked over her veiled shoulder and asked.

  “Miles, ma’am.”

  Oh my.

  I should not be feeling the way I felt when that ma’am rolled over his tongue—and definitely not so close to a church.

  “Oh, yes. I know you boys came and repaired the rectory last year, but I couldn’t remember which one you were,” she chortled, rolling her way through the hall until it opened into the lush, green courtyard that I’d seen in the photos.

  There was a small fountain in the center around which sat several benches where a handful of nuns were sitting and reading on this beautiful day. The scent of the sea still made it up here and swirled with the floral aroma of the hydrangeas that colored the courtyard. There were mixes of flowers everywhere, and with the warmth from the sun, it was hard to feel anything but welcome, anything but how comfortable I could be living here for the short term.

  “Okay.” Sister Jeanne sighed and turned to us. “Miles, if you’d be so kind as to wait here in the courtyard, I can show Eve the apartment we have available. Unfortunately, the living quarters are women only.”

  I knew that was coming—and so did he. But still, as she spoke and as I followed her away from him, it became all too real that, if our relationship were to continue beyond the end of our roommate situation, he wouldn’t be welcome in my home here.

  It was only temporary.

  I swallowed down over the rock-sized lump in my throat. I didn’t want it to be temporary. I didn’t even want temporary to be temporary. I just wanted him to admit that he didn’t want me to leave, and that was why he’d turned down every place I found and insisted on coming with me today—to make sure I didn’t sign anything before he could stop me.

  I just wanted him to tell me what I’d felt growing stronger each and every day—that what we had was something worth keeping… something worth more than what his past told him he deserved.

  The door to the apartments had not one lock, but two, Sister Jeanne informed me and I ticked off the mental checkbox for security that was at the top of Miles’ list. As we walked to the end of the hall, one of the other sisters came out of her room, greeting us with a big smile and a small spaniel in her arms, introduced as Lazzy—short for Lazarus—and the vise around my chest tightened as another checkbox for pet-friendly was marked off in favor.

  Inside, the apartment was small but impeccably clean, and it smelled of lavender crowned with incense, a perfect blend for spiritual soothing. The kitchen and laundry were shared among all four rooms on the floor which wasn’t a big deal for me since I was used to sharing with the entire Blooms household as it was; and the other three rooms were currently inhabited by nuns from the church.

  As Sister Jeanne escorted me through each of the rooms, it checked off one box after another of all the reasons why this would be an ideal place for me.

  Every single box.

  Except the one that would allow Miles to share it with me, if he wanted.

  As we walked back downstairs, through the locked door, and out into the sunlit courtyard, I was once again at a crossroads—finding something that fit every requirement but lacked my only real need.

  Miles still sat on one of the benches, his head ducked down and resting on his hands propped up by his elbows on his knees. He looked like a statue, like a sorrowed saint contemplating his own failings. But he was neither, although his walls were certainly as hard as marble and he punished himself for the sins of others, he was just a man.

  My man.

  I licked my lips as my eyes scanned over him in this light. His jeans were molded to his legs and his Madison Construction tee was pulled tight over the muscles of his back. I buried my hands in my pockets, like they’d change color to reveal just how badly I wanted to touch him in some not-so-holy ways.

  His head jerked up to look at me and the only thing that bled from the molten gold of his eyes was a glimmering no.

  “Ready?” He stood as we approached.

  “So nice to see you again,” Sister Jeanne offered before turning to me and reaching for my hand. “It was lovely to meet you, Eve. I hope to hear from you soon.”

  We made our way back down the entrance hall to the front door in silence. Only once it closed, out of earshot of its holy inhabitants, seen and unseen, did Miles reach for me, pin me up against the door to the Jeep, and growl, “You’re not moving into a nunnery.”

  I gaped even as my body immediately heated. “It’s not a nunnery!” I insisted as my nipples tightened against his chest and heat pooled between my thighs. “And it has two locks, not just one. It was so clean I could’ve ea
ten off the floor. One of my neighbors has a dog that Kona could be friends with—”

  I was cut off as hard, possessive lips silenced mine.

  My moan of protest quickly shifted into one of pure pleasure as his tongue reminded me that its home was inside my mouth. The strong satin stroked every corner where any lingering protest could be hiding, and before I could control them, my arms found their way around his neck and my lower body began to rock against his.

  I swallowed his growl as he wedged me tightly against the car, the hard length of him spearing against my stomach.

  “And what about this? What about me?” he demanded with a voice that was the coarsest level of sandpaper as he kissed along my jaw. “Are you goin’ to be okay wakin’ up without me next to you?” His head dipped right next to my ear so I could feel the brush of his lips against its outer shell as he whispered, “What about wakin’ up without me inside you?”

  I whimpered as his words hit below the belt. Literally.

  I did find, now that I was a person who had sex, that I loved waking up to him sliding deep inside my body in the morning, laying there buried in my body until the ache from the fullness coated him with desire and what started out as something slow and languorous became fire and frenzy.

  This was only temporary.

  The thought was like an ice-cold bucket of water down my pants and I turned my face to his. “Are you going to be okay?”

  He pulled back slowly, his eyes never breaking from mine. He knew what I was asking. He knew that no matter where I moved, it would mean days without me. It could mean weeks without me. And so far, that was what he led me to believe he wanted. That the roommate situation was a temporary kindness, but that what we had would end when I moved out. Because forever still wasn’t in his cards.

  I could practically see the smoke as it huffed from his nose, his jaw muscles clenching and keeping time on the sides of his face.

  He didn’t say anything else, only opened the door for me and gently closed me inside.

  It wasn’t my fault he wouldn’t admit to what he wanted. Yes, it had only been a week. But I’d known, in typical female fashion, long before now that he was what I wanted