Tempting as Sin

by Rosalind James

  “Thank you,” Rafe had answered. “Your subtle rebuke is noted.”

  “My subtle rebuke has barely begun. Six days a week for two weeks, and then we see where we are. And by the way, Jo said, ‘Lord help him’ when I gave her the six-days-a-week plan, which I do not take as a good sign. Also, please tell me they don’t make coffee in Montana by throwing a handful of Folgers into a pan of boiling water. I don’t have a good feeling.”

  “It’s a ski resort,” Rafe had said.

  “I checked it out,” Martin had answered gloomily. “Not much of one, it’s not. It’s too bad we won’t be there after the Fourth of July, because we’re missing the rodeo and the walleye fishing contest. I might have been able to handle the rodeo, but there is absolutely nothing attractive about fishing unless it’s men riding the rough waves in the killer storm and pulling in the deadliest catch, which it isn’t. Right. On to arrangements. What do you want up there, what shape is the log cabin in—sounds horrible, I’m just saying—and what do you want me to set up before you get there? Cleaning? Groceries? Meal service? Spitting lessons?”

  “If you weren’t my oldest American friend,” Rafe had said, “and if you weren’t so annoyingly efficient, I’d have sacked you so many times. No. I’m getting into character. I’m roughing it. I’m acquiring new skills. Send me the hotels for the trip and set things up with my equestrian adviser. After that, if I need you, I’ll call you.”

  Except not right now, because Jo was putting the horse’s lead into his hand and saying, “Stay on his left side and take him on over there by the saddles. Act calm. Pretend you know what you’re doing. Horses sense fear.”

  After Rafe left, Lily opened up and dealt with customers, leaving Hailey to finish the stocking. The summer was heating up, and so was business, which was fortunate. A seasonal shop getting busy with the season was always a relief.

  “Could you go tag that new Lively shipment?” she asked Hailey during a lull. “I think you’ll love the colors. In fact, we may want to change the window display. I’m thinking fun and flirty. Tap pants and camisoles and pima cotton nightgowns, and maybe bralettes, too. Summer’s no time for underwire.”

  “Sure,” Hailey said. “Right now.” She headed off, then turned back. “Unless you want to tell me how you ended up with a dog, a boy, and about the best-looking man I’ve ever seen, all since I left work on Sunday. It’s almost time for my break anyway. No pressure, but I sure am curious.”

  “It’s really nothing exciting,” Lily said, beginning to straighten the Fleur du Mal display and already thinking about the window. Cotton briefs and bra, soft fabric and a cool color, with a short black silk kimono over it all. Casually sexy, like you didn’t know you were doing it. If she added thigh-high stockings… Too much? Yes. Not casual.

  What if they were white, and the kimono was, too? Hmm. Better. She could ask Rafe. A thought that made her smile. She’d spent the last two years discouraging male interest, and yet she really, really wanted to know whether he’d think white thigh-highs with lace tops were too sexy for her pretty summer display. If she made the kimono white.

  “If you don’t want to tell me, hon,” Hailey said, “that’s OK.”

  “Oh. What?” Lily blinked.

  “He’s pretty good,” Hailey said. “I can sure see that. He’d be distracting me.”

  “Oh.” Lily remembered. “Yes. I found a stray dog, or he found me, yesterday. And an…almost stray girl, because she’s not a boy. I know, I was surprised, too. Her grandmother says she knows you, though. Ruby Johnson, unless that’s her married name. She lives out in the Juniper Mobile Home Park, and Bailey lives with her, because her mother died, I guess. Ruby’s on oxygen, so if you’ve seen her, you’d probably remember.”

  “You’re kidding,” Hailey said. “That’s not her married name. I doubt she remembers all her married names. She has a granddaughter here? I didn’t know that.”

  “She said she went to school with you,” Lily said. “Ruby, that is, although she looks too old.”

  “Hard living will do that to you. What was her daughter’s name? Kathy? Connie? Karen, that was it, not that I knew her very well. She’s passed away? What a shame. She was younger than my girls, but smart. Must have got that from her dad, because it sure wasn’t from Ruby. She’d have been sixteen or seventeen when she left home. In fact, if Bailey’s dad had turned out to be Ruby’s old boyfriend, I doubt anybody would have a heart attack from shock. Just one of those families where bad things happen, and they keep on coming.”

  “Oh.” Lily felt faintly sick. “Then maybe it’s not wonderful that her grandmother has her now.”

  “Well, she’s past the days of having a lowlife man hanging around, at least,” Hailey said. “I saw her in the grocery store the other week, and she looked about a hundred years old, and let’s just say that she could use a bra fitting. You mean she’s got her grandchild full time? She didn’t look all that cared for to me. Bailey.”

  “I think her mom was in prison, too,” Lily said. “Something drug-related. Being with her grandmother is better than foster care, I guess.”

  “You’re right.” Hailey sighed. “Well, what a shame. Poor thing. Poor both of them, actually. Must have about killed Karen all by itself, not having anyplace better for Bailey to go than back to her mom, unless she was too far gone on the drugs to care. My mom wasn’t the greatest in the world, and I sure wouldn’t have wanted her raising my girls. It makes you realize. But we can’t fix the world, I guess. I’ve probably talked away my whole break, too. Let me go get that shipment.”

  After that, they got busy again, and the subject was dropped. Not that there was anything to say about it anyway. What could you do? Hailey was right. You couldn’t fix the world.

  At one o’clock that afternoon, Bailey pushed the door to the store open. She wasn’t sure she was really supposed to come inside, even though Chuck was clean now and didn’t have any fleas. Lily’s store was really fancy.

  “Hi,” Lily said, and smiled at her. Lily didn’t look like Ms. Swan—she was way skinnier, for one thing, and her hair was blonde. She was wearing a fancy dress today, too, like the rich girls in school, but she was kind of the same as Ms. Swan anyway. She smiled a lot, for one thing. Right now, she said, “I was about to eat that lunch. You’re just in time.”

  “I brought a sandwich,” Bailey said. Chuck wanted to sniff around, so she hung onto his leash tighter. She wasn’t sure if he knew about not peeing inside buildings. If he peed in here, Lily would kick him out.

  “I guess you’ll get to choose, then,” Lily said. “Your sandwich or mine, because I brought too much. There’s nothing like having a choice.”

  It turned out that Lily had a place in the alley behind her shop where you could sit. Alleys were usually smelly, because that was where they kept the garbage, but Lily’s wasn’t. She had a teeny place for the table, like a patio but with rocks instead of cement, and she had plants in pots, too, with good-smelling flowers. Also a pretty fountain with a fairy sitting on the edge that Chuck took a drink out of, which made Lily laugh instead of making her mad.

  Lily asked, “Chicken or ham?” and waggled two wrapped-up sandwiches.

  Bailey said, “Umm…” She was pretty tired of peanut butter, and the sandwich had gotten kind of squashed in her backpack, but she wasn’t sure she should take Lily’s. People didn’t bring whole extra lunches just so somebody else could eat them. “I don’t care, I guess. Do you only eat brown bread?”

  “You can have chicken,” Lily said, handing her one of the sandwiches. “I always feel a tiny bit like a cannibal when I eat it, even though I don’t eat my girls. Mostly, though, that’s because not cleaning and plucking a chicken is worth about a hundred dollars to me. And, yes, I only eat whole-wheat bread. I make it in a bread machine. It’s healthy, and it’s cheap.”

  Bailey said, “Oh,” took a bite of sandwich, and started to rip off a corner for Chuck, who’d jumped to his feet as soon as Lily had passed the sand
wich over, and was staring at Bailey’s hand, his whole body shaking.

  “We need to stop feeding Chuck extras,” Lily said. “Chuck. Down.” Chuck looked worried, but Lily stared at him, and he flopped down and sighed.

  “He’s hungry, though,” Bailey said. “He’s drooling again. I always share with him.”

  “If he weighed a hundred fifty pounds and was as fat as a barrel,” Lily said, “he’d drool if you were holding a chicken sandwich. He’s had breakfast and lunch, he’ll have dinner tonight, and he needs to develop better habits.”

  “You’re kind of like Ms. Swan,” Bailey said. “You sound like you’re nice, but really, you’re strict.”

  Lily laughed. “Maybe so. That would be new for me, though. I haven’t been in charge for very long.”

  “Grownups are always in charge.” Plus, Lily had a store and a house, and she didn’t even have roommates. You always had roommates, because you had to pay rent. If she could pay rent by herself, she must be rich.

  “Not always,” Lily said.

  “If you were a kid,” Bailey said, “you’d see.”

  “Could be,” Lily said. “I understand your point.” That was another nice thing about Lily and Ms. Swan. They didn’t yell or hit or anything. Bailey’s second grade teacher had gotten mad all the time, but that was in Arizona. Maybe people in Montana didn’t get mad as much. Her grandma didn’t yell that much, either, as long as you were quiet.

  When Bailey had finished her sandwich, Lily said, “I have to get back to work, but you can stay a while if you like. Either leave Chuck here when you do go, or take him and bring him back later. Just do it before dinner, so I can take him home.”

  “I’ll take him,” Bailey said. “I like him. We can hang out at the park.”

  “Do you sit under a tree and read books, by any chance?” Lily asked. “You just reminded me how my sister and I used to read books all summer. Paige always read adventures. She only liked books if they were true, and I only liked them if they weren’t. That was our favorite part of summer—the library and the pool.”

  “Oh.” Bailey shrugged. “Not any more, since school’s out. I don’t have a library card. It isn’t like in Ms. Swan’s room. It’s a special card that you have to have.”

  “You should get one,” Lily said. “It’s free.”

  Bailey wasn’t sure what to say about that, either, so she didn’t say anything. Lily asked, “Why not? As long as you return your books on time, it doesn’t cost anything. And I know you love to read, with all those facts you know.”

  “You have to fill out a form, though.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s easy. You just go into the library and ask at the desk, and they’ll give you the form.”

  “I did. Except Ms. Swan gave it to me. She said that about the card, so I filled out all the things and my grandma signed it. I took it back to the library and everything, but they said she had to come in and show them her driver’s license. She doesn’t like to go places. She can’t get enough oxygen, especially if you have to go uphill. The lady said I could read in there, but Chuck can’t go inside. Maybe if he stays here sometimes, I can go there. Or now that I have a leash, I could tie him up to the bushes. Even though he might bark.”

  Lily said, “You know what? I can fix this one.” She hurried inside, and Bailey wasn’t sure if she was supposed to go with her or leave or what. She came back, though, with her purse. “Here,” she said, holding out a card. “Use this.”

  Bailey said, “Really? Cool. I could bring it back when I bring back Chuck.”

  “You could,” Lily said. “Or you could hang onto it for now in case you need to go back. I’ll be honest, I thought about filling out the form for you, putting my own name down, but it’d be lying, and I hate lying. It’s not lying for you to borrow my card, though. You’re allowed to loan them. If I need to get a goat book or something, I’ll borrow it back. Just remember to return the books by the time they say, so I don’t have to pay a library fine.”

  “Maybe I could get the books for you,” Bailey said. “Like, if you needed a goat book, I could find it. You have to look it up on the computer. Ms. Swan showed us when we did a field trip. I know how. I could see if they have dog books, too, so we could learn about Chuck.”

  “You could be my research assistant,” Lily said. “You sure could. I’ll bet they have good stories about dogs, too. You could ask the librarian.”

  “OK,” Bailey said. “I’m going there. Come on, Chuck.”

  The girl took off, standing on the pedals as usual and with Chuck’s leash wrapped around her hand in a way that wasn’t one bit safe. Lily caught the flash of sunlight from the duct tape at one corner of her backpack when she reached the street, and then the two of them were gone.

  She threw away the trash, brushed her teeth, thought, It’s a couple simple little things, a library card and a sandwich, not the parking lot of the Heartbreak Hotel, wondered if it were true, and decided there was no point worrying about it. Then she went back into the front of the store and asked Hailey, once she’d rung up her customer, “Do you feel like an iced coffee? I feel like an iced coffee.”

  “Sure,” Hailey said. “Want me to get it?”

  “No, I’ll go, unless you’d rather.”

  “Go on,” Hailey said. “You’ve been restless all day. Do you want me to close tonight?”

  “What? No. Of course not. I’ll close. I’ll just go…Iced caramel latte?”

  “I shouldn’t,” Hailey said, which was what she always said, before she said, “But yes. Please. Can I get it this time?”

  “Nope. My treat.” Lily grabbed her purse, adjusted the ruching on her dress so it was straight, and left the shop. Two women got out of a black Escalade with Washington plates and headed into the store, and Lily hesitated, then ran across the street. Five minutes.

  Running—and the sandwich—reminded her that she’d been holding her stomach in hard all day, because, first, she’d decided to wear a form-fitting dress, and, second, she hadn’t wanted to make the statement to herself that a control garment would have suggested. That is, she’d been trying to look good while pretending she didn’t care about looking good, just so she could wow a certain werewolf during the five minutes that he’d spent dropping off Chuck. Unless she forgot to hold in her stomach.

  Considering the milky crotch and the chicken manure, she should have worn the control garment. Go big or go home.

  She headed into the café and got in line, the guy in front of her turned around and looked her over, and she considered leaving again.

  Trent Maxwell. Real estate. When he and his wife had split up and she’d moved to Kalispell, Lily had lost one of her best customers. Sometimes, she wished women didn’t share quite so much when they shopped. She could have lived her whole life without knowing everything she did about Trent Maxwell.

  “Hi,” the man in question said. “Fancy meeting you here. Can I buy you a drink?” He smiled. “So to speak.”

  A coyote, not a wolf. Lily was an expert biologist. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’m good.”

  A family of tourists was at the counter ahead of them, and the mother appeared to be asking about the sourcing of the sandwich ingredients. This could take a while. Across the street, a couple got out of their car, stretched a little stiffly in the sunshine, hesitated, then headed into Sinful Desires, and Lily shifted from one foot to the other.

  “I’d like the turkey one on gluten-free bread, then,” the woman at the counter was saying. “Do you have soy-free mayonnaise?”

  “Why do I still not see you nearly enough?” Trent asked. “I thought being single meant finally getting to spend quality time with the women you had to pretend you didn’t notice when you were married. Although maybe I didn’t pretend all that well.”

  “And a cookie,” the woman was saying now. “Chocolate chip—no, oatmeal. I guess both. One oatmeal, and one chocolate chip. And a…what do you want, honey? A coffee, or what?”

  Lily though
t, Kill me now. Just kill me now. Her heels were frankly too high for work, and her feet were throbbing. Trent said, “What do you think? Wildfire, Friday night? They’ve got a new white Zinfandel that I bet you’d love. It’s a little spendy, but I’m a spendy kind of guy, and you look like a pink wine kind of girl. I promise to take care of you if you get tipsy. I’ll even promise to drive you home.”

  “I’m afraid I’m busy,” Lily said. Busy not being handcuffed. Trent took escapist fiction as operating instructions, apparently. She’d have to share this one with Hailey. They’d both liked the former Mrs. Maxwell. Lily should call her, in fact. Maybe they could have coffee the next time Lily went to Kalispell. It stunk when leaving your marriage meant leaving all the pleasant little interactions from your daily life, and that would be fun. Also, the story of the spendy pink wine and the creepy ride home, plus a caramel latte, would be worth a busy ten minutes on her own to Hailey, if Lily ever got there. The woman was paying now, though. Any minute…

  “Do you have another card to use?” the kid behind the register asked, the woman said, “Oh, darn it,” and Lily could have smacked her forehead.

  “Come on,” Trent said. “We never did get that drink we talked about.” That he’d talked about. He went on, “We could make it late, if you’re working. It’s all good. A little moonlight, a little candlelight, and a whole lot of wine? Who spoils you, Lily? You deserve it, but you always seem to be fighting it. I wish you’d let me show you how.”

  He was that one step too close. His breath smelled like peppermint, and as he spoke, he touched her arm. Lightly, but she froze anyway, then pulled her arm away and stepped back. “Trent,” she told him. “Stop talking.”