Chasing Temptation (9 page)

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Must be one of those newfangled things those kids are using.”

“I asked for that.” She shook her head again. “Come on, Nate. You've got some learning to do.”

His steps matched hers. “I'm starting to respect your underhanded ways, so start from the top. How did you convince the church lady to add my name to the list? ”

She winced. “You bring out the evil in me.” She shrugged. “I just made you a part of the community.”

“That's dark. Really dark.”

She stole a glance at him. Hands in his pockets, Nate should have stuck out like a sore thumb in the suit. Yet he fit. With all the odd characters she had met in this town, he fit with his own brand of her hometown.

“Might as well get you up to speed, because by the time we're through, Valley City will have its claws in you.”

“I'm not staying once I'm done.”

A pang went through her. Lynne waved away his comment, though she knew it was the truth. Her store was a pit stop in his grand schemes. He wouldn't care about the history or meaning.

Or the people he'd leave behind.

She cleared her throat and hoped the emotions wouldn't show in her voice. “It's going to take a few hours to bake those cookies. Let's call a truce. I won't mention you losing and you won't pout about it.”

He shook his head as he laughed. “Truce.”

“Okay, over there.” She pointed to the shop next to the Grannies storefront. “That store sells hardware tools, but in the back is where they have a massive amount of porn.”

He stopped. “How do you know this? And why?”

“It's the worst kept secret in town. It's the rite of passage for the local teen boys to sneak back there. Archie acts like it doesn't exist. So does his wife.”

His laughter filled the empty streets again. “No, why are you telling me?”

His laughter had filled her too. She shrugged. “I'm giving you the tour of Valley City you won't get elsewhere.”

They turned the corner of Main and N Street. A park took up the right side of the block.

The sound of kids laughing made Lynne smile. “Anyway, this is where the weird becomes picture perfect. The next few blocks are houses with picket fences. The 2.5 kids, soccer moms, and dads bringing home the bacon.”

“You want that.”

It wasn't a question so she didn't answer, but it reminded her of the home she’d left. A two-parent home with upper-middle-class income should have been the perfect upbringing. People rarely understood perfection took its toll. Knowing she would never live up to that image of perfection took a bigger one.

No, Lynne wasn’t capable of being perfect or even pretending she could be. So, she let out a silent breath and stopped in front of the grocery store.

Facing him, she spread her hands out. “Brace yourself for the attack on your personal life.”

He reached for the door before she could and held it open for her. She passed him and waved to Annabel behind the cash register. The woman’s eyes widened. Lynne winked at her.

“Flour and stuff is this way.” She pointed to the third aisle.

“You're serious about making cookies from scratch. Can't we use cookie dough?”

She shuddered. “Ready-made cookie dough? Have you ever tasted a cookie that’s not store bought?”

“I have.”

Lynne's inner people-watcher sat up, but she ignored it. They had called a truce. She wasn't going to dig for information. “And yet you still prefer ready-made cookie dough?”

“It'll be easier,” he pointed out.

Her mind refused to move past the fact someone had made him cookies from scratch, but she forced herself to say, “My way will be tastier, and there might be leftovers.”

He grabbed a stray basket and paused for a moment. “You're dying to ask me a question.”

She pffted and waved her hand at him. “I'm wondering where the cookie cutters are.”

“Liar.”

“Stooping to insults now.” She sighed in false disappointment.

She waited a moment, but he didn't open up the floodgates of information. She sighed again, and then perked up. They had hours of alone time ahead. She'd get him chatting whether he wanted to or not.

“Nope,” he said.

“What?” She spread out her hands. “I didn't say anything.”

He leaned forward and placed his finger under her chin. “As I told you before, your face tells me everything I need to know.”

She wanted to move in closer. She wanted him to keep right on touching her for no other reason than that he could. Nate slid his hand down her neck and she had to swallow the moan wanting to escape.

“Lead the way,” he murmured.

Ah, yes, that's why they couldn't have sex. The truce changed nothing. Biting her tongue got easier. The less she knew the better because already she was on a one-way trip to disaster.

*****

Thirty minutes later, when the key was in the lock, Nate finally thought about how the rental looked. He should have taken Sylvia's offer of curtains.

No.

Wait a minute.

He wasn't trying to impress Lynne. She had signed him up to bake. She was the competition, not a woman he planned to date in the future.

Her tongue wet and hot and sliding along his
.

He forced the memory out of his mind, bent down to pick up the grocery bags, and stepped inside only to wince at the room. The place hadn't appeared so bare when he first moved in. A sofa and a TV were the basic essentials for any deal. He definitely hadn't expected anyone other than Sylvia to see it.

The feel of her pulse beating erratically against his fingertips.

The next few hours were going to be long if his mind kept straying. He focused on the fact the rental was at least clean. He sniffed the air. Nothing smelled. The air still held the scent of new paint and carpet.

The taste of scotch tangled with her warm breath.

“I think there are some aprons on a hook in the kitchen,” he said and then gritted his teeth.

“Please tell me you don't pay up the wazoo for this place. Bobby knows better.”

Her observation threw him. “You know who I rent from?”

“Hon.” Her tone was sweet. “Did you learn anything from our tour? Nothing in this town is a secret or sacred. Get used to it. I'm surprised Chelsea hasn't flashed you yet.”

“Who is she and why would she?”

“Single. Desperate. You have a pulse.”

Lynne locked her hands behind her, and Nate could see the mental inventory of the rental going on behind her gaze. He really should have taken Sylvia up on her offer to decorate.

She slid her gaze back to him. “Where are the aprons?”

At least he wasn't the only one struggling. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to have her in his home—er, rental. “Let me show you.”

Nate led her to the kitchen where he placed the bags on the counter and tried not to think of how her bare flesh would look on the granite. He handed her an apron and within seconds she had tied it on.

“You've done this a lot,” he noted.

“Remember. Martha Stewart,” Lynne said over her shoulder as she opened and closed the lower cabinets.

“I wish I could help you find whatever you’re looking for. I don't cook; I microwave.”

“That's the bachelor's battle cry. A-ha.” She pulled out a mixing bowl and a baking sheet. She handed him the bowl. “I didn't see a mixer under there, so I'll let you be manly and mix. I'll stand here and look pretty for a while.”

“Fair enough.” He noticed she wasn't wearing shoes. A clear color that sparkled with pink graced her toenails. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling, saying a silent prayer for strength to keep him from jumping on her.

He let out a breath, then said, “Tell me what to put together.”

“Your face tells me all I need to know.” She took two steps toward him and brushed her lips over his before saying, “Just for the record.”

He considered pushing her back, getting things on an even keel. Then her tongue touched his, and he figured it was for the best if they got the kiss out of the way.

He walked forward until her back was against the counter. She worked her hands under his jacket and started to push it down his shoulders.

She murmured against his lips, “You have very nice shoulders.”

He nipped at her mouth until she apparently gave up on speaking coherently. “This. Kissing.”

She moaned and pushed him back. “Another moment of that and there won't be cookies.”

He dipped his head for another taste. Her hands went up to his face, almost branding him from the heat.

Nate stepped back. “You're right.”

She laid her head on his chest. He ran his hand along her neck to feel her heartbeat. It matched his own.

Lynne asked, her voice breathless, “Do you think we can concentrate now?”

“I hope so.”

She lifted her head. “We'll start with flour, eggs and sugar. We'll see how far we can get before we have to do that again.”

“If I didn't know my own background, I'd be worried at how pragmatic you are.”

“That's what I've been telling you, buddy. You don’t know me. Enough talk. Let's bake.”

Jeremy hung up the phone and snuggled against Sylvia. “Our bosses have been spotted making have-sex-with-me eyes at each other.”

She hushed him, not wanting this moment to end. He'd made her pasta instead of pressuring her to go out again. When she had started to feel drowsy, he took her to his bed and cuddled.

Jeremy lived on the very outskirts of town. No nosy neighbors to note his every move. She could spend the night without worry. His home seemed to be the only place where she felt vulnerable and that was just fine.

“Thought-provoking conversation ruins a good pasta afterglow.”

“The proper comeback should have been: 'Talking about another woman after pasta is bad for my ego.’ You've got so much to learn, Grasshopper.”

What he’d said finally sank in. She lifted her head from his chest. “Wait. What?”

“Your boss has the hots for my boss. And my boss is failing horribly at not showing her attraction.”

She raised a brow in disbelief. “Who's your source? And are you sure he's talking about Nathan Craine?”

“I protect my sources, but it's a she. Trust me it's him. She said the guy who always looks like he's dressed for a corporate takeover. They were spotted at the grocery store. Wagers are coming in. Some are risky, saying they'll do the deed tonight. I give it another three weeks before Lynne breaks. She's shown some incredible restraint so far. Normally that woman doesn't know the word patience when it comes to her sex life.”

“Nathan could write a book on proper business etiquette. Something else must be going on. I'm know he finds her attractive, but this is Nathan we're talking about.”

Jeremy snorted. “Nate and Lynne sitting in the tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

“So immature.” Sylvia laughed as she placed her head back on his chest. “Interesting, but there's nothing to the rumors.”

Jeremy fell silent for a moment. “Why is that interesting?”

She squinted. “My boss is...I can't find the word. Businesslike is an understatement.”

Jeremy tensed under her hands, and not in a good way. “Good thing or bad thing for my boss?”

“I don't know yet, but if it's true—and that's a big if...” she trailed off, thinking of their own relationship, or lack of one because of the circumstances. She shook her head. There wasn't any point to getting her hopes up. No matter what, Nathan would see this relationship as a betrayal.

“I don't like the sound of that.”

He shouldn't. The last time Nathan had tangled himself over a woman it didn't end well. If Nathan thought for one moment Lynne knew about the relationship between Jeremy and herself, he'd lose his mind. From what she’d witnessed, closing this deal meant everything to him. Nothing and no one, not even his own feelings, would stand in the way.

“Let's talk about something else. This is making my brain hurt.”

Jeremy chuckled. “I was thinking of going fishing. Do you want to go?”

There it was—the elephant in the room. Her heart twisted. He wanted more, and it was something they both couldn't have.

Sylvia lifted her head and kissed him, knowing it would distract him. She could hate herself later, but for now, she still had Jeremy.

Lynne made direct eye contact with Jeremy for the fifth time, and he looked away as if not wanting to get caught. She had on him callback duty, putting clothes back on the rack where they should go. She sighed. Of course the downside to living in a small town was getting caught.

They—Nate and she—had been spotted. Their presence together had been reported. She wondered if small towns had been the true inspiration for the Internet. The hotline had to be on fire. The next time she saw Annabel, the woman would pay.

Her time with Nate had only solidified her resolve to avoid intimacy with with him. She'd probably spontaneously combust the next time he stood near. She didn't need everyone speculating about the where to's and what for's. She had to set the record straight.

“Nothing happened,” she said.

“I didn't ask.” He shook his head.

“You wanted to.”

“You've been putting a lot of words in my mouth lately.”

Lynne pumped the brakes on her defensive response, because she had. “Then what did you hear?”

“You were making come-hump-me eyes with the enemy camp.”

“Aren't you the one to talk?” She pointed out.

“You may be right there, but at least I'm not in denial. I accept that I have the hots for the enemy.”

“The hots?” She snorted with laughter. “When did this conversation digress to junior high?”

Jeremy shrugged. “When you secretly started writing your name on pieces of paper as Lynne Craine.” He tilted his head to side and a smile crept out. “Has a nice ring, doesn't it?”

She bit back the next comment when a customer came in. A tourist, passing through town. She did her best to not growl when the woman asked if there were any stores for men. If only she were more petty.

“You can check out next door.” Lynne gestured to her right to indicate the direction.