Kimberly Meter - Tempted

“I’d say it’s probably a good idea to let the lady decide who she wants to spend time with,” Teagan said, finishing his beer. “Don’t you think? I mean, she is an adult, capable of making her own decisions and something tells me, that Harper is the kind of woman who would take offense to hearing someone talk about her like you just did.”

“You gonna tattle on me?” the man joked, but Teagan wasn’t laughing. He was pretty much done with this conversation and the only thing keeping him from punching this guy’s lights out was that he didn’t want to be put in the brig. Or whatever served as a holding cell for unruly passengers. “So you’re saying you’re not going to back off?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I called dibs.”

He called dibs. Good God, give me strength.

Teagan smirked as he rose from his seat. “Well, I’m not twelve and I don’t recognize the dibs game any longer. She’s not a piece of candy, she’s a woman. If you can’t interest her squarely on your own, then that’s not my problem. Good luck with your dibs.”

Teagan pushed past the man, leaving him to burn hot coals into his back but Teagan didn’t care. The man was an asshole.

But even so, the man had served one unexpected purpose—he’d given Teagan a much-needed splash of cold water on his overheated brain.

The purpose of this trip was to loosen up and have fun, not beat down every Tom, Dick and Harry who hoped to snag the “hot brunette with the smoking body,” and if Mr. Swagger was any indication of what chasing after Harper Riley would be like, then Teagan was out.

As if the universe was listening, a sassy redhead cast a flirty smile his way and he responded in kind.

J.T. was a vocal proponent of redheads now.

And this one wasn’t bringing gun-toting maniacs in her wake.

This trip may be salvageable, after all.

* * *

HER GAME FELT OFF. With Stuart being a no-show and then Teagan getting in her head, Harper felt tilted, which wasn’t a good sign.

She needed to be on target to snag Stuart.

Harper changed into her pajamas, removed her makeup and then crawled into bed, phone in hand.

More research.

Stuart. Buck.

She stared at the most recent picture, taken at some toilet seminar where he’d been the lead speaker, and chewed her lip as she frowned.

The Toilet King.

Harper wrinkled her nose with distaste. That was a tall order, but Harper didn’t care what other people said about her as long as the checks cleared.

Louis Vuitton bag.

Chanel dress.

Louboutin heels.

Teagan had been spot-on.

And the religious workouts—Pilates, CrossFit, Zumba, yoga—anything and everything to keep her body fit and toned.

It was exhausting.

She had no social life.

Friends were a luxury she couldn’t afford.

And God only knew she never confided in her lovers about anything, because she wasn’t the person they thought she was.

She played a part, for which she accepted payment in the form of expensive gifts and luxury vacations.

But she wouldn’t be young forever.

Sooner or later, time would catch up to her and no amount of Pilates would keep her ass from succumbing to gravity.

Harper winced at the cruelty awaiting her and that fear renewed her purpose.

That’s why Stuart was so important.

This one was going to marry her.

No more playing the mistress or girlfriend with nothing legally binding.

She couldn’t live on gifts alone.

And that meant she had to be smart.

Stuart wasn’t a stupid playboy with a trust fund.

He was a successful businessman who’d been loyal to his wife until the day she died.

Stuart held old-fashioned values and believed in hard work and fair play.

Honestly, Stuart was the kind of man Harper would have liked for a father or grandfather.

Except instead of going to Stuart for fatherly advice, she was going to seduce the man.

Harper groaned when a tiny bubble of bile rose in her throat.

What was wrong with her?

Stuart was not the worst she’d slept with.

He seemed kind, generous...and incredibly old.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t the Crypt Keeper, but compared to Teagan, Stuart was a fossil.

She closed her eyes and immediately Teagan was there.

Hard muscles covering a solid, manly frame.

Sensual lips that played with a flirty smile and begged to be kissed.

How was a guy like Teagan single, anyway?

Either the women in his circles were incredibly stupid or he had some heinous defect.

Maybe he chewed his toenails.

Maybe he picked his nose and ate his boogers.

Or maybe he had some weird sexual fetish like armpit licking or he liked to dress up like a baby and be breast-fed.

Yes, keep thinking of Teagan as a deviant, a voice encouraged, otherwise, you’re going to find yourself pressed up against him before you know it.

How long had it been since Harper had enjoyed a real relationship? Been with someone because she wanted to be, not because he was a target.

Just as she started to mourn her lack of true intimacy, the specter of the past rose to slap her.

It was hard to forget her mother’s tears. The horrible sadness that clawed the personality out of Anna Riley, and Harper was sure that the subsequent drag on her immune system had eventually led to MS.

Whereas Anna had once been sweet, kind and way too trusting, time and repeated heartache had left the woman a shell.

The disease had robbed her of everything else.

Harper had been twelve when Rex had conned her mother out of their savings, leaving them with nothing but bad credit, crippling debt and no way out.

And her mom had gotten pregnant, too.

Harper blinked furiously at the unwanted tears that threatened to fall.

Some say that things happened for a reason.

Losing Rex’s baby had been a blessing in disguise but it’d taken the final toll on Anna.

Harper’s childhood had disintegrated, leaving behind nothing but cold, hard adulthood.

And she had vowed to never let a man do to her what had been done to Anna.

If anyone was going to suffer scars, it wouldn’t be Harper from that moment forward.

She stilled for a moment to gather her focus.

That’s it, remember the pain. Remember the reason men like Teagan are bad news.

Releasing a long breath, Harper felt a renewed sense of purpose and returned to her research.

Tomorrow...Stuart Buck.

5

VANESSA THOUGHT TO escape to her room, but when she was midway, she stopped. The point of this trip was to liberate herself from her past. To stop mourning a life she didn’t miss.

Her and Dale’s relationship had been complicated, like most romantic relationships. They’d married young, and although there were too many bad times to count, there were good times, too.

A lifetime together had seamed a jagged stitch but it had bound them just the same.

One kid.

A daughter.

She’d done her due diligence as a wife and mother. Sabrina was off living her life as she should, but it’d left Vanessa alone to deal with Dale and their shortcomings.

Just as things had become unbearable, Dale had done the honorable thing and died of a heart attack.

Boom. No flash and bang. No long, drawn-out illness...just gone.

Sometimes Vanessa still thought she could smell his Old Spice cologne.

As much as Dale had been an overbearing, pigheaded jerk at times, he’d also been her best friend.

What she’d thought was going to be a grand dating adventure after he’d passed, had turned into a sad realization that she’d never truly mourned the man who’d been her constant companion for thirty years.

And somehow that young cutie at the bar had managed to activate that button that she’d been trying to hide for a year.