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Love So Tempting

Page 3

by Marquita Valentine


  She was right, but damn it... he didn’t want her to be. He wanted her to be his.

  “Tristan Lawson,” a woman purred. “Is this a bad time? And oh my dear God. Is that you, Lemon McCoy?”

  Lemon’s hazel eyes widened, fear infusing them. “You’re still with Whitney?” she whispered so softly that he had to strain to hear her.

  “Not really.” They were on again, off again, and today, they were supposed to be on again because she wanted him to go to some stupid engagement party in Holland Springs.

  Only he’d forgotten because of Lemon. Son of a bitch, he looked like the world’s biggest asshole. Forget looked, he was the world’s biggest asshole.

  “I swear, you look like you’ve been screwed seven ways from Sunday. Not something this town sees every day from the likes of little Miss Proper,” Whitney said with a faux sympathetic tsk. “Sure hope this doesn’t get around.”

  Tristan stepped in front of Lemon. “There’s nothing to get around because nothing happened. She stopped by to give me the town’s proposal on the old library.” That wasn’t a lie. Last night she had stopped by with the proposal. Only he asked her inside, and they... not now. Concentrate. He had to protect Lemon from rumors. “And in case you don’t remember the last eighteen years, the two of us can’t stand each other.”

  Lemon brushed past them both, murmuring an, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

  Lemon kept going, not stopping even after she heard Tristan shouting her name, as tears poured down her cheeks. There was no way she’d go back to him, especially with Whitney Pritchard standing there.

  Whitney hated her. Why, Lemon could never figure out, but Whitney sure had her figured out. During their freshman year, Lemon had made the mistake of admitting her feelings for Tristan and Whitney went after him, ending up as his date at his junior prom.

  And here Whitney was again, right after Lemon had spent the night with Tristan.

  “How could you be so foolish?” she whispered to herself as she unlocked her car and got inside. “You knew better.”

  But that was her. Too sweet. Too soft. Too trusting. Wasn’t that what her sisters had fussed at her for being? Hadn’t she let Mark run the show and then leave her for another woman? That was more than her mother could bear. A man never left a McCoy woman, at least not without her instigating it—a McCoy woman always left him.

  It was a rule. A legacy... maybe even a superpower.

  But for her, it was hard. Her heart and mind didn’t work like that. She didn’t want to lead a bunch of men on. She wanted to be loved by one man.

  Only the man she had always wanted had never wanted her.

  Until last night.

  Pressing the tips of her fingers to her eyelids, she took a deep breath. She could get through this, and if worst came to worst, she would call Skylar and confess everything to her while they ate brownies and strawberry shortcake.

  Thank God for Skylar because her sisters wouldn’t understand. They would laugh and tell her to find a new man to get under to get over the old one.

  Well, maybe Cherry wouldn’t say that now since she was with Kyle, but the old Cherry would have. Apple most definitely still felt that way about the entire male population.

  Heart thumping in her chest, she wiped off her cheeks and headed home. “Nothing but a memory,” she whispered aloud. After a long shower, she would never think of the night she spent with Tristan again.

  *

  Eight weeks later

  Lemon dressed in her most conservative outfit. Her stomach churned in anticipation, and she fought to keep her breakfast down.

  “You can do this,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Glancing at the mirror, she finished applying makeup and fixing her hair. With a little nod, she tipped up her chin and made her way downstairs

  “Where you off to, sugar?” her mother asked as she walked into the foyer, carrying a basket filled with freshly cut flowers.

  Lemon fought down the blush that threatened to betray her. “I have a meeting in town at the library.” At least she wasn’t lying about her location.

  “You poor dear. Do you have to deal with him?”

  “In a matter of speaking. I won’t be back until later tonight, after Nailed & Polished closes.”

  Her mother smiled at her. “I’m so proud of all you have accomplished. Have I told you that lately?” She tucked a stray curl behind Lemon’s ear. “You are my pride and joy.”

  Lemon smiled wanly at the compliment. “Thank you.”

  “I have a feeling that today will be some kind of wonderful for you.” Her mother’s brown eyes twinkled. “A little birdy told me that a doctor was in your future.”

  Lemon almost choked on her own saliva. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, have I given too much away?” Her mother shook her head, a secret smile playing at her lips. “Be sure to be home Monday evening. We’re having dinner at the Club.”

  “Yes ma’am.” That could only mean one thing. Her ex was back in Jessamine, and it was either because he regretted breaking up with her, or because her parents had convinced him to rethink his hasty decision to join an international doctor’s organization with the woman he’d left Lemon for.

  In either case, she didn’t want to be reacquainted with Mark.

  “I need to go.”

  Giving her one last pat on the arm, her mother finally left her alone. Lemon power-walked to the garage and got inside her car, driving straight to the library. Parking near the entrance, she got out and forced herself to slowly walk inside.

  A lady never ran.

  Surreptitiously glancing around, she found Tristan seated in a huge chair with a child on each knee. More children sat on the floor in front of him, their little face turned up in rapt attention as he read to them.

  Her heart flipped in her chest at the sight. His sexy face was animated, his vibrant blue eyes startling in color as the morning light shone down on him.

  Their gazes met, and Tristan signaled for one of the librarians to come take his place. The little ones groaned.

  He held up his hands. “I know, I know. But don’t worry; Ms. Zykerria is a great storyteller. I bet you won’t even miss me.”

  Zykerria smiled, her dimples flashing as she pushed back her long braids. The wooden beads in them softly hit against one another. “Where were we? Ah, yes. Leo needed help getting a thorn out of his paw.”

  Tristan walked toward her, and her knees started to shake. Blood rushed from her face. She leaned against a table, and then sat down altogether when dark spots appeared in front of her.

  “I thought we agreed to lunch,” he said in a terse whisper.

  Lemon waited for the moment to pass before she looked up at him. “I couldn’t wait that long.”

  “I live to serve you.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop serving you? That would be my upmost honor, Ms. McCoy.” He stepped closer to her, so close that she had to tip back her head. “Please tell this humble servant what brings you here?”

  She licked her lips. His eyes followed the movement. “I...” She glanced around the library. No one was near them, and the children were too involved with the story to pay them any attention.

  “Yes?” Tristan’s lips flattened after she remained silent. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I haven’t seen you in two months, Lemon. For you to text me... I thought something was wrong.”

  Oh, there was something wrong all right. “I’ve been avoiding you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I know.”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “About the proposal? We already discussed this; I’m not using your dad’s money to renovate the old library.”

  “Will you stop talking and let me speak,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “By all means, princess.”

  Lemon sat up straighter and looked him in the eye. “I’m pregnant.”

  Chapte
r Four

  The entire building closed in on Tristan, his vision narrowing to only encompass the redhead sitting so proudly in the chair before him.

  Lemon was pregnant. Pregnant. He didn’t have to ask if it was his because Lemon would rather wear white after Labor Day than suffer another minute more in his presence than she had to... and they’d been careless.

  He only had himself to blame for that... and the bottle of wine they’d shared that night. What a predicament.

  “Tristan?” She nervously licked her lips. Her eyes darted around the room before settling on him again. “Did you hear what I said?”

  Tristan stared at her for a moment longer before grabbing her arm. He remembered to gentle his grip as he helped her to her feet. “Come with me.”

  “I don’t want to be alone with you,” she protested. “I only wanted to let you know what I needed from you.”

  Then why would she demand lunch with him if all she wanted was to let him know what she needed from him? Lemon wasn’t getting off this easy, and he still had to wrap his mind around her announcement.

  “We have a lot to discuss, and I’d rather not do it in a public space.”

  She smashed her lips together and nodded, walking with him to the right side of the building and then through a set of double doors.

  “I can see why this place needs a facelift,” she murmured as they passed by an older section of the building. Concrete walls with peeling paint were barely concealed by rows of shelves filled with books that were no longer in circulation. “Why do you still have all of those books?”

  He couldn’t bear to part with a single one. To him, they all had value. But he wasn’t sure if she would understand that. Hell, he didn’t understand it at times. He wasn’t a hoarder, but to simply dispose of books that no other library or organization would take seemed more than a little wasteful.

  “We don’t have the money to dispose of them properly,” he said. It wasn’t a lie. The library desperately needed money.

  “You would have plenty of money if you would agree to take my father up on his offer,” she pointed out.

  “Then your father would have a say in our programs and what books we purchase,” Tristan reminded her. “He’s not the most open-minded when it comes to literature.”

  “While you’re very biased against my family.”

  As they entered his office, he lightly kicked the door closed behind them instead of letting go of her. Frankly, he didn’t know if she’d bolt, and he didn’t relish the thought of chasing after her.

  “Please have a seat,” he said, finally relinquishing his hold on her arm.

  For once, Lemon did exactly as he asked her to do and sat, crossing her shapely legs and staring up at him with pretty eyes that were rimmed in lavender. She was exhausted, he realized.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  She shook her head, and then briefly closed her eyes. “Yes. I need a solution to my problem.”

  “The baby?”

  Again, she shook her head. “No, I’m keeping the baby.”

  Relief flowed through him, and the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding left his body in a long exhale. “I’ll support you and...the baby however you want.” Actually, he had his own ideas about what that would look like, but a shotgun wedding was out of the question. The McCoys wouldn’t stand for that kind of talk about one of their daughters.

  “That’s good to know.” Her chest rose and fell beneath her conservative dress. She touched the pearl necklace at her throat before twisting it around her finger. “But I was hoping...I need more.”

  “You want a dollar amount?” he asked, leaning against his desk and crossing his arms.

  “I want a husband.”

  Jealousy surged, white hot in its intensity. “I’m not going to help you with that,” he said flatly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you, Tristan? It’s only your baby, too. “ Abruptly, she stood. “I don’t know why I thought you’d agree to marry me.”

  “Wait,” he shouted, and she froze. “You want me to marry you?”

  “Unfortunately—yes.”

  “Me—Tristan Lawson.”

  “Who else would I marry?”

  He almost shrugged. “Lemon, you have to admit that this is a bit unorthodox.”

  “I know we don’t have the same opinion on things,” she said with a grimace, “but I thought, even though we have our differences, that you would help a lady in her time of need.”

  “Help a lady...” He let his words trail off. Marry her. Marry Lemon. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined his life would come to this—a baby and marriage to the one woman who hated him.

  “Either you can help me out or not, but I’d like an answer.”

  “Yes,” he said, and her eyes widened.

  “Oh.”

  “I guess you didn’t expect me to agree, huh?”

  “When have we ever agreed on anything?” she pointed out.

  True enough. Except... “Eight weeks ago, we agreed on a lot of things.”

  Her cheeks pinkened. “I know what happened eight weeks ago,” she said tightly. “I’ll thank you for being a gentleman and not bringing it up again.”

  He chuckled, but it was humorless. “When did I ever give you the impression that I was ever a gentleman?”

  “Aren’t I the luckiest lady in Jessamine to soon have you as my husband,” she said with a sniff.

  “You sure as hell are.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Wonderful. If you’ll excuse me, I have lunch plans with Skylar.”

  “I thought we had plans for lunch.”

  “The sight of you makes me want to puke, and I need the extra calories,” she said primly. “I’ll give you a call.”

  “You do that, but don’t wait another eight weeks. I want to be involved in everything, Lemon.”

  With a nod, she stood. “Good-bye, Tristan.”

  Wasn’t he the luckiest son of a gun to walk the earth to get a third chance with her? he thought as she left his office.

  Hadn’t he been beating himself up for weeks over the way he’d allowed her to walk away from him? Sure, he had gotten rid of Whitney as soon as possible—after informing her that their on again/ off again relationship was permanently off, but that hadn’t solved his problem with Lemon.

  Hell, he hadn’t gone after her. He should have. He knew where she lived, where she worked, and where she went to church every Sunday.

  The last time they’d come anywhere close to this, he’d allowed her family to come between them. Specifically, her sister, Apple, and while Lemon might have only written to him out of pity, he was damn sure her sisters—both Apple and Cherry—had put their spin on things.

  Only he wasn’t sure how exactly. Seven years ago, he had been so puffed up on his ego and pride that he’d walked away from her.

  From that kiss.

  Things between them were still just as hot and sweet. Still just as volatile. While permanence in their relationship, no matter how tenuous, was just in reach.

  All he had to do was marry her.

  Chapter Five

  Much to Lemon’s relief, Skylar Jernigan—and soon-to-be Lawson—agreed to meet her for lunch at the last minute. It warmed Lemon’s heart that Skylar would drop everything for her.

  That was the mark of a true friend in Lemon’s opinion, and if the need ever arose, she would do the same for Skylar. Plus, she liked to think she could take a bit of credit for getting Skylar and Mason Lawson together. A little push in the right direction.

  She walked inside the diner. It was already full and thankfully, her stomach didn’t rebel at the normally yummy-to-her smell of Yates’ signature dishes in the air. Lately, nausea had been giving her fits. Hopefully, that would be over soon.

  “Lemon,” Skylar called out from a back booth.

  A genuine smile curved her lips. “There you are,” Lemon said, hurrying her steps.

  As she drew closer, she could se
e two plates already on the table. One, piled high with brownies. The second one supported a towering strawberry cake with a lot of whipped cream on top.

  “I thought you might need dessert first,” Skylar said, gesturing to the dish opposite her. “You sounded upset.”

  Lemon dropped into the seat, placing her purse beside her. “You are so sweet to do this.”

  “You happened to catch me while I was in town.”

  “It’s Saturday. You always come to town on Saturdays.” Lemon picked up her fork, speared a juicy strawberry, and brought it to her lips. She smelled it before a tentative bite, nearly wanting to cry with pure joy when it stayed down.

  “Oh my gosh, you sound just like Mason.”

  Lemon laughed. “We know you.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Skylar gave her an appraising look. “Did you want my brownie instead?”

  “No.”

  “Usually, you dig right in.”

  “I haven’t been myself lately,” Lemon admitted, but she couldn’t tell the rest to Skylar. At least, not yet. But she needed to tell someone other than Tristan.

  “So do you need me to listen or stuff my face full, because I’m down for either.”

  “Remember a month ago, when I told you I had to go to that man’s house to give him my father’s proposal for the library?”

  Skylar’s gaze turned serious. “Yes.”

  “Well, I stayed longer than was necessary.”

  “How much longer?”

  “Until the next morning.”

  Skylar dropped her fork. She leaned forward, lowering her voice as she asked, “Did you sleep with Tristan?”

  Lemon nodded.

  “Holy crud, Lemon.” She sat back in her seat. “No wonder he’s been so pissy. You dumped him, didn’t you?”

  “We were never together to dump one another.”

  “Then why are you so upset?” Skylar asked. “I mean, the two of you obviously aren’t couple material. He’s only the most beautiful man in town while you’re the reigning beauty queen. Why would God put such perfect people together? Geez, imagine the kids the two of you would have. Imagine the ovaries that would explode while he pushed a stroller. Seriously, Lemon, it’s just not right.”

 

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