Chasing Temptation (7 page)

Purchasing a super showerhead and being a single woman in a small town was not a good thing to do if she wanted to quell any rumors. Needing a super showerhead after spending most of the day with Nathan at her side...an even worse thing to do. She rubbed her temple, cleared her throat and tried again.

“Ignore me.”

She turned around and headed for the back door. The old craving for nicotine hit her. She sunk her nails into her palms. It had been almost ten years since she chucked the expensive, death-ridden habit. Man, only deep-seated, in-the-bottom-of-her-gut stress made her crave.

The door shut with a clang behind her. Closing her eyes, she searched for inner peace. Lynne tried not to snicker at the phrase
center your inner chi
, but, regardless, the phrase helped her find equilibrium.

Lynne opened her eyes and looked down the back alley to her left. Rows of other buildings on both sides framed the short back street. Large trash bins cluttered most of the space. But only one thing drew her gaze. One man really.

Unsure if she was holding her breath or couldn't breathe, Lynne decided there had to be a special place in hell for
Nathan Craine
. If he wasn’t Satan himself, then he was a right-hand man.

The muscles in his shoulders flexed. Her mind could have been playing tricks on her, but a droplet of sweat rolled down his neck, down, down only to disappear beneath the waistband of his pants. It was an illusion because he wore a shirt. More or less. One of those excuses for a tank top that did little to hide his muscled physique. Nathan looked lickable. Just biteable. Lifelong embarrassment or not, she was going to buy a showerhead at the end of the day.

But she couldn't tell him that, or even show the urge on her face. So she crossed her arms and marched toward him.

She threw at him, “What do you think you're doing?”

“Taking the next step to put you out of business.” He climbed into a truck filled with boxes.

Lynne narrowed her eyes and perused farther into the truck. She knew silk garment bags when she saw them, even from ten paces.

He hopped out of the truck, forcing her to step back. She wouldn't touch him. Couldn't touch him, because the action was off-limits. It was a bad idea and a number of other things her mind couldn't think up at the moment. Thankfully his large, wide palms were cupping a box, making the point of them touching moot. Except the flex of muscle in his forearms made her mind wander and imagine him cupping her ass in the same way.

Oh, good God.

“You can help.” He smiled and went toward the back of his shop.

The suggestion came out too breezy. Was this a trick? Payback to get her to work for him? No. Nathan had come into her store on day one and told her he planned to sup on all the local virgins' blood. And, of course, buy her store. He played this game too straight for underhanded. Given she had tricked him into helping her the other day, with the icing of him seeing her tally up sales, a few boxes wouldn't hurt. She grabbed one and followed him in.

Holy crap
.

The man wasn't playing nice anymore. A few boxes her foot. The stock room that just a few days ago looked anorexic now had a nice influx of steroids. She placed the box down and faced the smirk she knew would be pulling at the corner of Nathan's mouth.

Ah, there it was.

“Well,” she bit out, “I wish you the best of luck.”
And that you find the nearest bridge to trip and fall from.

He crossed his arms. Her eyes followed the movement, watched the flex of muscle in his forearms. She quickly met his gaze again.

“Now, that's not being a good sport,” he said.

“What? I didn't say anything but best of luck.”

“That's not what your tone said.”

“My tone speaks now?”

“So does your face. You wear all your thoughts and emotions on that oval-shaped face of yours. You should watch that around me. I will use it to my advantage.”

She mimicked his stance. “You keep telling me how big and bad you are; I'm starting to think it's nothing but a bluff. I'm sure all the stores you brought over to the dark side basically wanted some bigwig to buy them.”

“True, but there were a few that put up a fight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Hit the web and search you.”

He pointed at her face. “See that there.” He moved forward and pointed to her forehead. “Was fear.”

She resisted the urge to rub her forehead because, dammit, she was afraid. He was so sure of everything. Sure she would lose. So sure she'd give in and lose hope. And if she did? If she couldn't hurdle over this obstacle, her best friend's store would mean nothing but dollar signs.

Her word would mean nothing. All her hard work, flushed down the drain once adversity showed its face. She might as well have married the man her parents chose and become a testament that individualism was a dream.

Lynne lifted her chin. “See that there.” She moved forward, pointed to his chest. “Is empty.”

He flinched. Mr. All Business flinched at the comment. She wanted to take the words back. She didn't play dirty. That was her old life and not even hers, but her father's.

Nathan's jaw flexed for a moment. “I think it's best if we come up with some rules.”

“I don't do rules. I'm sure you’ve noticed.”

“We won't get personal,” he forged on as if she hadn't spoken.

She gritted her teeth. “Last night you were the one who got personal.”

“I was drunk.”

His expression didn't even change as he said the lie. She laughed. “Is your middle name Denial?”

“I hadn't eaten.”

“I've got a bridge, Nate. I can call you Nate, right? You kissed me. You liked it.”

Lynne sucked in a breath, stepped forward until she could feel the heat, smell the sweat coming off him. The only way to make her point was to tempt herself with the one thing she craved--him.

“You want to do it again.”

Neither of them moved, especially when she saw the words had hit their mark. His gaze moved to her mouth. He was tempted to do it again. Oh, God. She wanted him to, wanted to see if it would make her toes curl. Maybe the first time was a fluke. Maybe she was riding high off winning a battle. Maybe—

The back door slammed, and they sprang apart as if they were caught doing something they weren't supposed to.

“Good morning,” a woman singsonged. “I saw the shipment. Let me put up the coffee, and I can help.” Sylvia blinked. “Oh.”

Nate rubbed a hand over his head. “Ly―Ms. Kelley decided to drop by to see what I was doing.”

“Ms. Kelley?” Lynne said. The formality grated more than it should. “Nate, I'll leave you to continue your pointless venture.”

She nodded to Sylvia and left with her dignity intact. Sadly, the only reason she didn't turn to get one last glance at Nate was that there would have been a witness.

*****

“Nate?” Sylvia asked. “You don't even let me call you that without giving me a look.”

“I don't give you a look.”

She gave him one that put a chill down his spine. It had to be one of his.

“It's unintentional,” he added.

“Probably, but I still do not call you Nate. You didn't even give her a look. I'm starting to think you don't like me as much as you do her.”

“I don't like her.”
I have urges. Big difference.

Sylvia snorted. “I'm teasing you, but all of a sudden you look nervous. You have a crush on her. It's cute.”

“I don't do crushes.”

She offered him a cup of coffee. “What color toenail polish did she have on today?”

Some sparkly blue color, and how did Sylvia know he had a thing for Lynne's toes? “I don't know.”

Sylvia stared him down. It didn't matter. He wouldn't give up the fact he knew.

“Get to work and stop wasting time grilling me.”

Nate stepped out on the stoop, finally able to take in a deep breath. Lynne had brought her scent into the stockroom. A fragrance he wanted to bury his nose in, preferably on her neck where he could lap up the taste of her.

See there...empty
.

Unable to shake the weight of her words along with the need to taste her again, he frowned. He did have a heart. Just didn't wear it on his sleeve like Lynne.

He climbed into the truck and then grabbed two boxes. Why did he care what she thought, anyway? What anyone thought. He got the job done. Yes, he put people out of work when he bought a business, but he left them with breathing room to pay their employees, and they were businesses that would have gone under sooner or later. He made them profitable and eventually put more people into the job force. He was practically performing a public service.

Climbing down from the truck, smooth calves cut into his line of vision. She stood on her stoop, her back to him. The curve of her neck tantalized him even from a distance.

In that short amount of time she'd ditched the sandals while on the low step. They swung back in forth in her hand. The short stoop was clean, but come on? She couldn't keep the damn things on for two seconds?

He sighed. For all the business sense he had, this woman seemed to be his Achilles' heel. He put the boxes down, started to close the distance and make the second mistake of this deal.

“Lynne,” his voice broke the quiet.

She didn't face him, but leaned her head to the side. “Yes?”

“I wasn't drunk.”

“I know.”

He heard the smile in her voice, but couldn't bring himself to follow suit. “It's still a mistake for us to go there. Not now.”

At his words she turned. “You're right. I know here.” Lynne pointed to her head. “And, here.” She pointed to her gut. She moved closer, until their chests were touching. “And, yet, it doesn't make me itch any less when I see you.”

Nate shouldn't have been pleased with her comment, but his lips curved. “I give you an itch? Like a rash? Or when you scratch it you hum a little?”

She placed a finger on his chest and traced a path down to his nipple. It hardened beneath the thin material.

“You should know, Nate.” She arched a brow, smug and certain, and sauntered back into her store.

He scratched where she had touched him and scowled. Yes, he did know.

A few tense days had passed but she exhaled with relief when she walked out onto the sidewalk in front of her store. Jeremy stopped ahead of her then shook his his head.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You know, I thought that guy was sharp.”

She followed his gaze and shook her head too. “What is he doing?”

Nate stood at the edge of the curb on full alert. Steam rose from a fancy Tupperware bowl. Lynne took in a breath and whatever it was, smelled good. She understood his tactic, though once again he would lose this battle.

Lynne pursed her lips. “I say forty he eats it when he tries to grab Suzie.”

“That's too easy. Look at his shoes.”

Lynne did. The shoes were shined within an inch of their life. “That is an easy one.” She sat down on the curb and tossed Jeremy the bag of popcorn.

“Oh,” she said. “I have a good one. Let's say when he falls, she uses him like a fire hydrant.”

“Deal,” Jeremy said.

Suzie trotted out of the bushes, her short legs moving fast as though late for an appointment.

Nate took one cautious step forward into the street. Suzie paused, lifted her nose in the air. It was like watching a tennis match. Lynne turned back to Nate. He took another step forward, and so did Suzie.

A car turned the corner and slowed. Her heart jack-hammered. No one was supposed to take this street, not when the call went out. The only saving grace was that no one could miss Nate.

Nate took another step, bending down with the bowl to put the food in the dog's line of sight. Suzie's little legs vibrated.

The driver slowed to a crawl—a tourist. The man behind the wheel waited a few more moments and then tried to go around both man and dog. That one decision finally made Suzie move. She bolted between Nate's legs toward the vehicle. The car stopped inches from the crazy ball of fur. Lynne shot up, a hand to her chest.

Nate tripped over his feet trying to turn around in time. He went down hard, dropping the meat and the bowl. The broth flew up, then down, spattering all over him.

“You should have kept the easy bet,” Jeremy murmured.

Lynne didn't bother to reply as worry filled her instead humor at the situation. Suzie barked at the car, wavering in her goal to get away for the first time. Before Nate could even scramble up, she climbed on top of his of back and stood there until she seemed sure the car wouldn't move.

Lynne edged forward to help but stopped when Suzie brushed her tongue against Nate's face. He reached up and she jumped off his back, picked up the roast, and disappeared into the bushes. The car sped away, leaving Nate dog-licked and soaked with broth.

Jeremy stood with his arms above his head and started to do doing the victory dance.

She dug into her pocket and handed Jeremy the money. “Get back to work, you loafer.”

“Sore loser,” he said before disappearing inside.

Lynne turned to glare at Nate, who had only sat up. Could be embarrassment or humiliation that kept him on the ground. Yes, different words, if only in degrees of, “I can't believe I just did that.” Lynne blew out an irritated breath. She didn't kick people when they were down, literally or figuratively.

Steady legs took her over to Nate, but her heart raced. Why couldn't his horns shoot out now so she could feel better about him making an ass of himself?

Horns didn't appear from his head. Only that sure sign of him being the Second Coming would have kept Lynne from joining him with a humiliation of her own. She went to him and leaned down.

*****

“I can't feel my legs,” Nate joked, but everything ached and it felt like something had cracked when he'd gone down. Otherwise he'd have gotten up much sooner.

But something did stir below Nate's waist when Lynne placed a hand on his face. Her fingers, tender but warm, forced him to look up, if only to break the contact.