Tempting Tim: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Romance (Billingsley Book 4)

by Melissa Ellen

  My feet kept carrying me forward despite my mind telling me to turn around and go a different route. As he continued his conversation, I stopped a few feet away—close enough to overhear—and removed my earbuds as I caught my breath.

  “I said I’d deal with it, didn’t I?” he snarled into the phone. “Just make sure she stays there and keeps quiet until I get back. The last thing I need right now is her running to the tabloids and ruining shit for me,” he said, lowering his angry voice. Suddenly realizing he had an audience, his eyes flicked my direction, locking with mine. “I gotta go,” he snapped, hanging up the phone. “What the hell do you want?” He shoved his phone into his pocket.

  I shrugged, placing my hands on my hips with my fingers splayed while trying to put two and two together about what he’d just been saying on the phone. “Figured I’d come offer my congratulations,” I said, every word laced with sarcasm.

  “I know you fucked her.”

  His words grated on my nerves. Things with Conley were more than a simple fuck. And I wouldn’t deny anything to him. Not because I wanted to piss him off, though part of me did, but because I was tired of all the lies. “From the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like you were exactly keeping it in your pants, either.”

  He took a step closer, a silent threat. “If you know what’s good for you, Hudson, you’ll mind your own damn business and stay away from Conley.”

  “I’m not here to fight with you.” I held my ground, not backing down despite my words.

  “Probably for the best. We both know who always wins.”

  I ignored his jab. “She deserves better than you.”

  “And you think that’s you? You think you’re better than me? In case you forgot, I won the girl. I won the lead. I’m the one winning all the awards. Not you. You’re nothing but a has-been. You don’t have what it takes to make it in this life.”

  “Probably so, but she’s not a trophy to be won. And if you haven’t figured that out by now, then you’re even dumber than I remember.”

  Stepping in my face, he shoved at my chest. “You want to say that again?”

  Taking a step back this time, I shook my head. He wasn’t worth my time. Conley, on the other hand, was. And I wasn’t going to make things worse for her by getting in a fistfight with Bobby…no matter how badly I wanted to.

  I turned to leave.

  “That’s what I thought. Crawl back to your daddy’s shithole of a bar, like the loser you’ve always been. Just like your father.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, my body spun and my fist flew, landing square on his face. He dropped like the pesky gnat he was. Mrs. Crosby and Mrs. Taylor let out a chorus of half-gasps, half-squeals as they jumped back out of the way. They’d been walking on the sidewalk in our direction. No doubt trying to eavesdrop, knowing those two, as they pretended to be strolling around the square. Even if I hadn’t just popped Bobby in the middle of town square, as long as those two knew about it, it’d be headline news in a matter of seconds: they were the ringleaders of the gossip squad.

  “Sorry, ladies,” I said as I shook my fist out and flexed my fingers, ignoring the pain radiating from it. That shit hurt, but it also felt damn good. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time, if you know what I mean.” I gave them a foolish grin.

  “Now, Tim Hudson,” Mrs. Crosby reprimanded, “Don’t you go getting thrown into jail on his account.” She gave me a pat on the shoulder as she stepped over him and continued on. Mrs. Taylor did the same, scurrying after her friend, their heads immediately bowing together in hushed whispers.

  It was nice to know Bobby didn’t have as many fans in this town as I’d originally thought. It appeared some people were still bitter he’d turned his back on Billingsley and everyone in it when Augustine had gotten their big break. His folks had done the same, packing up and moving to California and making a big show of it when they did. It had rubbed many in our small, close-knit community the wrong way.

  “You’re gonna pay for that,” Bobby said, slowly climbing to his feet as he wiped the blood from his lip. I braced myself, ready to finish what I’d started. He lunged for me just as I ducked, but was stopped mid-throw as Roger stepped between us, holding Bobby back.

  “Whoa there, Bobby. You might want to think twice before you brawl in the middle of downtown. Did you forget where you come from?” Roger nodded toward all the pedestrians that had come to a stop around the square, their phones out and aimed at us. There were even a few pressed up against the glass windows of nearby stores and restaurants.

  With a shove, Bobby took a step back as he spat, “Get off me,” to Roger. He straightened his shirt as he looked around at the audience we’d drawn. “I don’t even know why I bothered coming back to this dump.” He stalked away, spitting blood on the cement.

  “You good, buddy?” Roger asked as we both watched him leave.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem, the last thing I wanted to do was have to put you in the county jail for the night.”

  “I appreciate you lookin’ out,” I said on a laugh, massaging my sore hand.

  “You got him pretty good. What did he say that pissed you off so bad? Was it Conley?”

  “Nah, though I wouldn’t have minded getting one more good hit in for her, too… It was my pops. And mostly for just being a prick.”

  Roger chuckled and slapped me on the back. “Maybe that punch helped to knock him down a few pegs.”

  I doubted it, but I didn’t say as much. “You mind giving me a ride?”

  “Why not? I’m feeling more like an Uber driver than a sheriff’s deputy these days. Except not a damn person ever tips me.”

  “How ‘bout a drink when you’re off the clock?” I offered.

  “I guess it’s my lucky day then, because I just clocked out.”

  “What will it be, boys?” Melanie asked as Roger and I sat down at the bar. It felt weird being on this side of it. But I was in no condition to work today, mentally or physically.

  “An ice pack for this guy’s hand and two Makers,” Roger answered.

  “What happened to your hand?” Melanie asked, looking down at the swelling knuckles.

  “He popped Bobby good. Right in the middle of downtown square,” Roger announced proudly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. Not necessarily the response you’d expect from a sheriff.

  Melanie’s expression was one of utter shock. It was definitely out of character for me. “Well, good for you,” she finally said after she recovered. “This sounds more like a celebratory drink than a heartbreak drink then.” She reached for the bottle of Woodford Reserve small batch.

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Don’t worry, Tim. This one’s on the house.” She placed the bottle and two tumblers for the top-shelf bourbon in front of us and winked.

  Roger snickered beside me.

  “Just how many drinks have you given on the house?” I asked, though I wasn’t really mad about it.

  “Don’t go getting your panties in a wad,” she quipped. “This is the first time.” She walked away, looking for a clean towel to make me an ice pack. Roger opened the bottle without reservation and poured us each a glass.

  The front door opened, and we all turned our attention to see who else had decided to start morning drinking. Wes strolled in with a shit-eating grin. “You boys better not have started without me,” he said as he walked across the room toward us. “Pour me whatever Mike Tyson here is havin’, Mel.” He jabbed a thumb my direction and took the seat on the other side of me. It was no surprise to any of us that word had traveled outside of city limits and to the Monroe farm already.

  “How did you know we were here?” I asked.

  “Took a wild guess after Devin forwarded me the YouTube video of you taking that idiot down in one shot,” he answered.

  Mel placed another tumbler on the bar and handed me the ice pack.

  “Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head. I didn’t care abo
ut the video, but I could only imagine how Conley was going to feel about it. “I need to call Conley.”

  “Probably a good idea. Head that one off as quick as possible,” Wes suggested, and Roger hummed in agreement, handing a filled glass to him.

  “Since I’m the only female in this room, can I give you a little advice?” Melanie asked.

  I gave her a stiff nod. I didn’t like everyone being in my business. But it was a little too late for that.

  “Give her time. You both need to sort your shit out first and decide what you really want.”

  I clenched my teeth at the suggestion. I didn’t need time to figure out what I wanted. I wanted Conley. Plain and simple. If that hadn’t changed in the last nineteen years, then it wasn’t about to change ever.

  Melanie held up a palm. “I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear. But trust me. She wants and needs space right now. It’s probably why she quit earlier this morning.”

  “She did what?” I growled. “Why the hell would she do that?”

  “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just ask me that. Because if you don’t know the answer to that, the faith you’d given me in men just flew right out the window.”

  I rubbed a hand over my face, releasing a frustrated breath. Then I lifted my glass, downing the whiskey. “Pour me another round,” I said, slamming the glass down on the bar. All three pairs of eyes widened, but nobody said a word about it. Roger lifted the bottle, filling my glass again as I wondered how things had gone to shit so fast.

  I knew she was mad at me, but I hadn’t assumed she’d quit her job. I was hoping to talk to her and smooth things over on her next shift, apologize for overreacting and beg for her forgiveness. If there was one good thing to come from my confrontation with Bobby, it was I realized just how much I wanted to fight for her. I wasn’t backing down to him or anyone this time. I wasn’t letting her get away, at least not without letting her know how I felt. How I’d always felt.

  I took a sip of the bourbon, reveling in the satisfying burn once again as I mulled over what Melanie was saying. I was afraid she was right. We both needed time to sort things out. Conley deserved someone who supported her the way she always supported everyone else. Someone who fought for her and put her first. She deserved better from me. And at the moment, my time and energy were still tied up in this bar. But that was about to change.

  Three weeks later…

  “Two promotions in a matter of months… Does that mean I’ll be getting the title of employee of the year?” Melanie asked, wagging her eyebrows up and down.

  “Don’t push your luck,” I warned. Even though, after everything she’d done for me, I’d make her employee of the century. She’d worked hard learning everything I’d thrown at her the last few weeks in order for her to officially become manager of the bar. At the same time, she helped me find another bartender and train them too.

  It was time.

  Time to trust others to handle things for me at Dudley’s so I could spend more time being there for the woman I wanted.

  It also meant I finally had some time to sit down and write more music and finish the song I’d started weeks ago before everything had blown up. Being able to write again was turning out to be an added benefit in more ways than one. I’d sent a few of my songs to a contact I’d made many years ago in Austin. He worked for a huge label now and loved the few I sent to him. He was already working up a contract for me to sell them to one of his artists. If things kept going the way they were, it looked like I’d be able to focus more on my music, too.

  “You got everything in order for tonight?” I asked Melanie.

  “You know I do. You’ve already triple-checked everything.” She exhaled sharply. “And here I thought we were past all this.”

  “We are. Sorry. It’s habit. But you have to admit, I’m better.”

  “Yeah, you’ve gone from looking over my shoulder at every move I make to only triple-checking it afterward. I guess that is improvement where you’re concerned.”

  I chuckled. “All right. I’ll get out of your hair. You need me—”

  “I know. Just get outta here, will ya?”

  I gave her a parting smile as I retrieved my phone from my pocket. I scrolled through my contact list to search for the name I needed and connected the call as I pushed through the back door, headed for my truck. There were two rings before the call was answered. I let out a deep breath before saying, “Hey. I need a favor.”

  21

  Conley

  It was official. Beginning in the fall, I’d be starting online classes to finish my business degree. It was a long time coming. Not that I needed the degree to start my art studio and store, but I wanted it. I wanted it for me. I was determined to finish it no matter how long it took.

  Things were finally falling into place. Bobby’s team had sent out the press release announcing our split. It surprised me they’d said it was amicable and mutual and didn’t try to profit from the cheating fiancé angle to garner him some sympathetic press. I wasn’t sure if it was my conversation with Bobby at Kathy’s, or Tim punching him in the face that finally brought him around. I didn’t care. It was done. And either way, it was a relief to have it all behind me.

  I’d spent the last three weeks figuring out what it was I truly wanted. Just for me. The only thing that excited me still was following my original plan in life. I wanted to finish college. I wanted to open an art studio. And as fate would have it, I’d found the perfect location where I’d have space to work and have a storefront to sell my art.

  “This place is amazing,” I said, slowly taking it all in. The original hardwood floors, brick walls, and decorative ceilings and moldings were a work of art all on their own. There wouldn’t need to be much work done to convert the space, since most of the original materials would just need to be refinished. “I can’t thank you two enough,” I told Lottie and Tucker as they walked with me. Devin and Hannah had tagged along too, wanting to check it out with us.

  “It’s our pleasure. Besides, it’s one less tenant we have to find to lease to,” Tucker replied.

  Tucker and Lottie had taken a leap and purchased the historic brick-and-mortar building in the downtown square of Billingsley where her clothing shop resided. The building covered nearly the entire block and had enough space for at least five tenants, depending on how they divided it up. The previous owner had done little to keep the building in good shape and leased out. Besides Lottie and Hannah’s place they owned together, there was only one other shop currently open, Mrs. William’s antiques and consignment store.

  Tucker had plans to update every square inch, including the second floor of the building that had been left unused for far too long. I was taking the space next to Lottie’s. Tucker agreed to installing a stairway that would lead to the second floor where I’d set up my art studio. It had the perfect lighting for working with large picture windows and huge skylights in the roof. I couldn’t wait for the day it was all done, and I was settled in.

  Tucker rolled out the set of plans for us to review over a piece of plywood that was straddled over two homemade sawhorses. We went through the floor plan first, going over where he’d have white gallery walls for me to hang my work before we moved on to the lighting for the space. It would take some work and cost a little money, but I was able to get a small business loan and Tucker was giving me a tenant allowance to help cover the cost. Not to mention, his construction company would do the work to help keep costs low.

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” Devin asked as soon as we were done and Tucker was rolling up the construction plans.

  “What?” I asked, hesitantly after seeing the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

  “A girls’ night is in order!”

  “I’m in!” Lottie said, with Hannah quickly adding her agreement.

  “And I’m getting out of dodge before you ladies get outta hand,” Tucker said, kissing his wife on the cheek before doing exactly that.<
br />
  I remained silent, trying to figure out an excuse not to go.

  “Girl, don’t even think about it. You’re coming out with us to celebrate everything you’ve got happening for you,” Devin insisted, able to read my mind. “You promised forever ago that you’d join us for a girls’ night. Tonight is that night. Besides, Melanie is working the bar, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “It’s not,” I lied. It was totally what I was worried about. It took skill to avoid someone in this small town, an unknown talent I apparently had. I couldn’t dodge Tim forever, but I could at least drag it out as long as possible. Going to his bar, where he practically lived, would waste all my hard work.

  “Well, then good. You’re coming. Because I need as much girl time as I can get before this baby pops.” She rubbed a hand over her barely swollen belly. “Plus, I need a night away from Wes. I love that man to death, but he’s already a helicopter dad, and it gets annoying when the baby is still in my womb.”

  “Okay. I’ll go,” I relented, even though I got the feeling this was another setup. “But only for a couple drinks,” I added. I wasn’t pressing my luck. It was a Friday night and though they were promising me he wasn’t working, I had little faith he’d stay away the entire night, even after hearing he’d hired a new bartender to help out. I knew Tim. If the bar was packed, he’d find a reason to be there.

  It’s not that I never wanted to see or talk to him again… I just wanted to make sure the time was right. I didn’t want to jump the gun, falling into another one-sided relationship. We both needed a change, a balance. I needed to know things had changed for him, too—that he was ready, the way I was. Between school and the art studio, I’d put the plan into motion to become independent and happy, a plan that only involved me and my wants. But no matter how happy I was about it all, and ready to open my heart again, things with Tim would never happen if the bar always came first for him. Which is why I continued to dodge and avoid: because I wasn’t ready to find out that might always be the case. I wasn’t ready to completely let go of the dream of there one day being an us.