Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

by Blue Saffire

  I can hear the rustle of bedsheets. “Who is this?”

  Ouch.

  “Uh, LeBron frickin’ James. Who do you think?”

  “Luca?” The sleepy tone is replaced with a smart-ass one.

  “Close, except I’m better looking and not a douchebag.”

  “Hmm.” Another rustle of sheets. “Brody?”

  I narrow my eyes and flip the bird at Brody’s back, even though he hasn’t technically done anything.

  “You know, you could be a bit nicer to me, considering the reason for my call.”

  That shuts her up.

  I take a gulp from the water bottle Brody forced on me and wipe my mouth.

  “Cat got your tongue?” I’m surprised at how calm I feel.

  “N—no. I’m just a little shocked, to be honest.”

  I deserve that, no doubt about it.

  A door closes on her end. “Does this mean what I think it means? Are you coming home?” The hope in her voice threatens to undo me.

  I take another breath and run my finger along the plastic label on the bottle before setting it on the hood of the car. “I’m thinkin’ on it.”

  Her voice is almost breathy when she responds. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” My eyes follow Brody’s steps as he comes back to the boathouse for more equipment.

  “It will mean the world to Ginny. To everyone.”

  Dammit. I wish she hadn’t said that. I feel the pressure of expectations caving in on me and I groan.

  “Denny?” There’s that hopefulness again, but it’s tinged with disappointment this time.

  “It’s just… a lot.” I grip the back of my neck and close my eyes. “I need a couple days. You go on home.”

  “No!” she practically shouts and then hurries on, “Come with us. We’re leaving today and it will give you time to visit with everyone for a couple days before the surgery.”

  “Eh. I’ve got stuff to do around here.” I don’t tell her that I have today and tomorrow off, but I am scheduled to work Thursday through Monday, so it’s not really a lie.

  She sighs and, despite my inner turmoil, I can’t help but imagine the shape of her lips. “You still seem to be laboring under the misconception that I’m an idiot, Denny Brooks. If I leave without you, you’ll never show!”

  I want to object but I know she’s probably right. But there’s no way I can just jump in a car and leave with her. I need time. I’ve been training my brain to go on autopilot for four years; I can’t just flip the switch in a matter of hours.

  The pressure of disappointing so many people is too much to absorb, but the clear evidence that I’m disappointing Rosie shoots right through my walls and pierces my heart. How the hell does she do that?

  Brody treks back to the truck with a paddle and a tackle box and my words are carrying over the line before I can stop them. “Then don’t leave.”

  I picture those arched eyebrows of hers drawing together. “What does that mean?”

  “You still know how to bait a hook?”

  Rosie must have been on the debate team in high school because, by the time we’re done negotiating, I’ve agreed not only to go home for the surgery (deep breaths, Brooks) but to let Gwen tag along on what was supposed to be a cozy little fishing trip for two.

  However, I’ve won an argument or two in my day as well, so I threw an overnight stay under the stars in as a condition of my cooperation. I think it’s more than fair.

  I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I think the river has answers. And I know for a fact it has powers—how else could it carve through stone to form canyons and push its way ever forward? So what better place to prepare myself for the coming storm, and what better company than a woman who could probably make me agree to just about anything for a taste of her? Not that I’m making that part of the bargain, but I plan on doing my damn best to get her to share a sleeping bag with me—even if it’s only to see her eyes light with fire as she shuts me down.

  “Okay, I think we’re all set.” Brody adjusts his ballcap as he approaches our trio.

  Rosie’s mouth pops open in an O and I can almost hear the wheels turning in her brain. “Wait. You’re joining us?”

  See, what Rosie has clearly forgotten is that I play hardball. If Gwen’s coming to chaperone, I’m providing a distraction for said chaperone—one that comes in the form of a six-foot-two former college ballplayer who thinks he knows how to flirt.

  Brody smiles, taking no offense. “I got two tandem kayaks all rigged up.” He throws out a double thumbs up that makes me mentally shake my head in embarrassment for him.

  Gwen, who hasn’t seemed all that jazzed to go on a fishing trip, suddenly brightens. Can I call ‘em or what?

  “Great! But I have to admit I’ve never been fishing before,” she says, tucking her blond bob behind her ears.

  Brody holds out an arm like he’s offering to escort her to the damn prom. “Then you’re riding with me. I can teach you everything I know.”

  I watch Gwen grin and feel a smug smile curve my lips until I turn to Rosie and remember to hide it. I’m too late.

  “God, I never learn, do I?”

  She shakes her head and stalks by me to the waiting truck, ponytail swinging. But that’s okay, because she’s wearing another pair of cutoffs and these have stars stitched into the back pockets, right over the cheeks of her sweet ass.

  I’m gonna make the most of the next twenty-four hours if it kills me.

  Brody drives us to a calmer section of the river where we can drift on the slow current and try our luck at catching dinner. While Brody packed the truck and loaded the kayaks, I borrowed his car to run back and grab a shower and any gear I needed. By the time I got back, Gwen and Rosie were pulling into the gravel lot along with the crew who was scheduled to work the rafting tours today.

  Gwen and Rosie spend the drive alternately texting on their phones and chatting with Brody while I’m content to enjoy the view and the cadence of Rosie’s voice. It’s a touch deeper than I remember from way back, almost like it’s the tiniest bit hoarse from not enough practice. It suits her, just like her new look and her new confidence.

  She’s a completely different person than the last time I saw her at sixteen, yet she’s somehow still the same. I suspect it’s due to her heart being just as big as it always was. This thought makes me choke out a small laugh since pretty much all she’s done since our reunion is give me shit. Not exactly the best reflection of a giving soul, but I haven’t forgotten what brought her here in the first place. Brody shoots me a puzzled look but I shake my head and turn back to the window to watch the forest fly by.

  “Okay, now give it a firm pull to set the hook.”

  Gwen jerks the rod up a bit too forcefully, but it seems to have worked regardless. “I got him!”

  “Awesome! Now reel him in nice and steady.” Rosie smiles as she instructs her friend.

  I look over and scowl at Brody in the back of my kayak.

  I should have anticipated Rosie conniving her way out of riding with me. A covert conversation must have been conducted on the ride over because, by the time Brody and I got the gear unloaded, Gwen and Rosie had chucked a tent, a cooler, and fishing gear in one of the kayaks and taken off. Brody and I stood gaping on the river’s edge as they wiggled their fingers in mocking waves at us and laughed their asses off.

  Rosie even clapped her hands together in what I assume was an imitation of me, yelling, “Better start paddling, ladies!”

  As far as I’m concerned, she may have won this battle, but I’m still winning the war. Brody and I have the cooler with the drinks and fishing is thirsty work.

  To that end, I make my voice loud enough to carry. “Hey, man, can you pass me a water?”

  Brody cranks his reel while holding the rod in his other hand, completely oblivious to my game. “The cooler’s right there. Can’t you get one yourself?”

  I scowl again and lower my voice. “Haven’t you ever played wingman?�
�� I throw a subtle chin to the girls’ kayak and watch as comprehension dawns on Brody’s face. He’s lucky he’s got decent looks or I’d be worried for him.

  “Oh! You mean the ice-cold water from the cooler?!” he bellows, proving that his choice to pursue river guiding over acting was a sound one.

  Brody tosses me a water and I don’t miss Rosie’s sidelong glance. That’s right. You’re gonna have to come closer if you want something to drink, Sunshine.

  But Rosie’s not biting. Yet.

  “That’s it. Now pull back slowly and keep reeling him in.” Rosie continues to instruct Gwen who’s got her tongue trapped between her teeth as she pulls on the rod. A nice large-mouth bass jumps out of the water about ten feet from their kayak and Gwen yelps, making Rosie laugh and me forget all about our war. The sound is nothing short of magical as it echoes off the rock face behind us.

  A minute later, Rosie is holding up the fish for us to admire, her smile bright and Gwen’s triumphant.

  “Woohoo!” Brody yells. “Looks like lunch!” To which Gwen frowns, dropping her eyes to the bass in Rosie’s grip.

  It flips its tail and her brow furrows. “What? We can’t eat him! I already named him!”

  Rosie throws back her head and laughs again before casually tossing the fish in the river while Brody and I watch in disbelief as our meal swims away.

  “Bye, Rocky!” Gwen waves at the water, sending Rosie into another fit of laughter.

  It seems the score is zero to two. I’ve got some catching up to do.

  6

  It’s ultimately nature—or, more accurately, the call of it—that offers me my chance to get Rosie alone. We pull out of the river at a low spot to take what Gwen declares a “water break,” but she quickly disappears behind some trees. It’s going on lunchtime, so I decide to put out some sandwiches I threw together when I went home earlier and take the opportunity to go for a swim. The fishing’s been a tad slow, especially with Gwen and Rosie throwing all theirs back in the river, but between Brody and me we should have enough for dinner later.

  I’m lounging on my back in the river when I catch sight of Rosie carefully picking her way over a few large rocks to take a dip herself. My heart gets its second dead stop of the day at the sight of her in a black and red one-piece swimsuit. This woman is about to make me the youngest guy I know to have a cardiologist on speed dial.

  The front of the suit dips low while the shiny black material cups her full breasts and ties behind her neck. Red lacing crisscrosses over her cleavage to keep the suit in place, but it’s more of a tease than anything. More lacing runs down the sides along her lush hips, leading to those long, tanned legs I can’t get enough of. She’s nothing short of stunning and I don’t even pretend I’m not gawking.

  When she notices me staring, she stops in her tracks. “What?” Her tone suggests she expects me to tell her a bear is standing behind her.

  “You’re beautiful.” The words spill from my mouth and are nothing but the God’s honest truth.

  She blushes and it reminds me of when she was younger, but it’s the only thing that’s still childlike about her.

  “Oh.”

  It seems I’ve accomplished the impossible and made Miss Rosina Carmichael speechless. That notion tugs a corner of my mouth upward and my look sends her jumping in the river—probably to cool her face.

  I waste no time swimming in her direction.

  She breaks through the water’s surface a few feet from me and pulls in a gasp at the cool temperatures before running a hand over her face to clear the water from her eyes. She startles at my nearness when they open.

  “Jesus, Denny. You scared the hell out of me.” She squeezes the water from her long ponytail and I glance down to see her tightened nipples beneath the thin material of her suit. Granted, it’s probably more to do with the cold, but I like to imagine I’m the cause.

  When she sees where my eyes are focused, she looks down and gasps again before splashing me. “Pervert!”

  I sputter and laugh at the same time. “Have you seen yourself in that suit?” I take a quick glance to the bank to make sure Brody’s not getting an eyeful, but he’s busy cleaning the fish for tonight’s dinner and Gwen is working on a sandwich.

  Rosie doesn’t answer and, instead, ducks her head back under and swims across to the far side. An old tree has fallen into the river, creating a dam of sorts and allowing an almost still area of water to form.

  “Don’t get your foot caught!” She knows river safety and this is a slow area anyway, but the idea of her being trapped terrifies me nonetheless. My strokes bring me quickly to her side, but she’s just floating on her back with her eyes closed and one hand resting on a branch to keep her in place. I’m unsure if she’s aware of the spectacular view her position offers, but I’m not about to tell her—or complain. Frankly, I’m grateful for the water temperature as it’s helping to keep my dick somewhat under control.

  “I’m still trying to figure out your full motivation for this little trip.” She surprises me by speaking without appearing to move a muscle. “I mean, I see it for the stall tactic it is, and I’ve been around men enough to know that you’ve set yourself some kind of challenge where I’m concerned.”

  I move closer until I’m looking down at her face. She opens her eyes, but she’s not startled this time. Droplets of water cling to her lashes and pool in the indentation above her upper lip. I want to use my tongue to gather it to my mouth.

  My eyes shift to hers and she holds my gaze. “But you have no right to play with me, Denny.”

  Her words make my breath catch. I mean, sure, we’ve both engaged in a bit of healthy competition over the last day, but I wouldn’t play with her feelings in any way that might actually hurt her. I’m unsure what to say. The fact that she feels compelled to say this makes me think I’ve already done some serious damage in the past. But it was just a stupid crush. Wasn’t it?

  Rosie flicks her tongue to her upper lip and the water is gone. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  I want to tell her I’ve most definitely noticed that, but she continues before I can stick my foot in my mouth.

  “And I’m over you. I have been for a long time.”

  Her words are a gut punch. I hadn’t thought ahead any further than today, but the idea of living in a world where I have no place in Rosie Carmichael’s heart suddenly sounds like my own personal hell.

  “Rosie.” It’s all I can say.

  “So don’t think anything is happening between us today or any other day, Denny. I’m here to bring you home, and I won’t sell my soul to do it.”

  She flips over to her stomach and swims away, leaving me staring at the fallen tree and the fading ripples of water she left in her wake.

  Gwen sighs and sets her fork down. “This could have been Nemo.”

  I grin over my mouthful of delicious fried fish. Brody has outdone himself, and even Gwen couldn’t resist eating the freshly-caught dinner, despite her declaration not to eat anything with a name.

  “Nemo wasn’t a trout. He was a clownfish.” Brody tries to reassure her, but I think he’s missing the point.

  Gwen musters up a smile for him and I figure it’s only a matter of time before those two sneak away to explore nature’s wonders on their own.

  I glance at Rosie who’s sitting on a nearby rock, wrapped in my flannel shirt. It took ages to get her to accept my offer, but the cooling temperatures finally won out. Seeing her in my clothes makes my dick awaken yet again. My thoughts wander to her in my bed, wearing one of my t-shirts and nothing else. I repress a groan. This girl is leading me around by the cock without even trying.

  I was afraid the serious nature of her announcement in the river earlier would put an end to any lightheartedness of the day, but as soon as we packed things up to resume kayaking, she was smiling and laughing again. She even agreed to ride with me for the duration, but I suspect it had more to do with allowing Gwen to hang out with Brody. I’d take
what I could get, though.

  It dawned on me that if I were going home, I had a shit-ton to catch up on—even if Lynn and Mama were likely to be the only ones to acknowledge me.

  “So, Rosie, what are you studying?” I lift another bite of fish to my mouth.

  Gwen giggles. “Did you just ask her what her major is?”

  Brody guffaws and I see Rosie trying to suppress a grin as well.

  Smooth as silk, Brooks. Nicely done.

  “Shut up. It’s a legitimate question.” My defense is lame at best and everybody knows it, but Rosie takes pity on me.

  “Biology.”

  “Seriously?” Damn, that’s some genuinely complicated shit.

  She shrugs. “I’ve always been good at science and I need a major that will get me a good job.”

  I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean anything by it, but I can’t help thinking she might be referencing my choice of majoring in Environmental Education only to graduate and become a river guide. The pay may not be great, but the lifestyle can’t be beat.

  I really shouldn’t be surprised that she’s ambitious. She’s never been one to give up on something she wants, that’s for sure. But she did give up on me, didn’t she? Never mind that I told her to. I set my plate aside, no longer hungry.

  “Then maybe you can stop using all your free time doing your mending and sewing,” Gwen chimes in. She rolls her eyes when I turn to her. “She never has any time to go out or do anything fun. Every time I call her, she’s always at that damn sewing machine, slaving away for extra money.”

  My back goes straight at that. There’s nothing wrong with working your way through school, but the way Gwen’s describing it, Rosie is missing out on the college experience entirely.

  “Hey,” Rosie cuts in, hugging my shirt around her. “It pays better than working food service, and besides, I like all that damn sewing.” She grins at her friend.

  “Nobody likes sewing that much. And I know for a fact that your mom told you to stop sending money home.”