Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection

by Blue Saffire

  The women have found an old Nerf ball wedged between some rocks and they’re tossing it back and forth while I load the last of the things into the kayaks. The plan is to go to the swimming hole and then come back to grab the kayaks and head downstream to the boathouse. We’re all wearing our swimsuits and Brody can’t seem to keep his eyes off all the exposed skin Gwen’s bikini affords. The dude has it bad, but I can’t really talk.

  When I look back at the girls, I see Rosie wading in the water, heading to the middle of the river where the water flows to either side of a group of large rocks. I’m watching her body move, as usual, so I almost get hit in the head when Gwen yells, “Catch, Denny!” I turn just in time to snatch the ball from the air. I toss is back and look to Rosie again. She has her hair down this morning and it cascades down her back in a dark flow of silk, making me imagine how it would look spread across my pillow.

  Shit. I need to stop my thoughts before I get hard again. But I’m coming to realize I don’t want to say goodbye to Rosie. Not today, not after my mama’s surgery, not anytime in the foreseeable future.

  Maybe it’s time to suck it up and go home for good. Rosie and I can get something going for real and I can work at one of the outfitters nearby. Then I can try making up for all the lost time and start rebuilding my life again. Maybe Rosie is right and I’m stronger than I think.

  “Yo! Romeo!” Gwen shouts and I turn again to catch her perfect spiral. Not bad at all, but I could do without the nickname.

  “Hey, Denny!” Rosie shouts from the river. She’s made her way up onto one of the boulders protruding from the water. A corner of my mouth tick up when she waves, sending me that wide grin, her long dark hair flying around her in the breeze.

  She’s a goddess.

  “I’m open!” She mimics a fake to the left and then throws both hands up.

  And a complete nut.

  I’m fairly certain we’re about to lose the ball to the current, but I throw it anyway. Rosie shifts her weight and leans forward to catch it, almost losing her balance and falling into the river before she rights herself. My heart skips a beat and I feel my mouth turn down. She’s not wearing a vest.

  I forget the kayak and the game of catch as I straighten. “That’s enough! Get down before you fall, Rosie!”

  “I’m fine!” She tosses the ball from one hand to the other as if to prove it to me. Then she extends her arm back to toss it to Gwen, who’s farther back than me. “Gwen! Catch!” She hurls the ball into the air, but the force of her movement sends her left shoe slipping forward. I watch in horror as the next moment plays out in what feels like slow motion.

  People always say that, and I never believed it was true that time could slow down, but it does.

  Rosie’s foot slips out from beneath her and she’s falling backward off the highest boulder. I see both shoes in the air and then nothing. She’s gone.

  “Rosie!” I shout and I’m in the water, swimming like Jaws himself is chasing me. I’m the human embodiment of terror, urgency, and speed.

  I can hear Gwen yelling for Brody but my only focus is getting to Rosie. I hurl myself onto the rocks and scrabble to the other side, praying with everything in me that I’ll find her on her back laughing at herself. But I don’t. The current runs past the boulder there and the water is several feet deep.

  “Denny! There!” I hear Brody shout and I look to see him pointing several yards downstream. He’s in his kayak paddling like mad in that direction. I’ll never beat him there and I’m so thankful for his presence of mind to take the kayak instead of swimming like me. I dive back in and stroke downstream, my muscles burning and my breath coming in panicked waves when my mouth breaks the surface. Brody throws his paddle down and jumps in the water. I can’t see what’s going on at first but then I see her! Brody’s holding Rosie out of the water and dragging her back across to the level bank on the side we came from.

  I change direction and am torn between the need to keep my eye on Rosie and the need to swim as fast as possible to reach her.

  I see Gwen paddling the other kayak toward Brody and a brief glance shows all three of them have reached the bank. I finally get there and sprint to where they are. Gwen has a phone to her ear as she drags the kayak on land. Brody is bent over Rosie, his ear to her mouth and nose checking for breathing. I make every promise I can possibly think of to God. I’ll do anything as long as he lets Rosie be okay.

  Brody’s head comes up and his mouth is tight with worry. “She’s breathing.”

  I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and drop to my knees.

  Just then, the most beautiful sound in the world hits my ears.

  “Ow.”

  We all look down at Rosie. Her eyes are still closed but her hand is reaching for her head.

  “Don’t move,” Brody instructs.

  She opens her eyes and I crawl closer until I’m right beside her.

  “Believe me, I don’t want to,” she croaks, making Gwen let out a relieved laugh.

  “She’s awake. Oh, thank God. She’s awake. I think she hit her head.” Gwen is talking into the phone, I assume to 9-1-1.

  “I need to assess your injuries.” Brody goes right into the training we’ve all received, but I’m fucking useless. All I can do is hold Rosie’s hand and bend to press my lips to her palm. She’s going to be okay. She has to be okay.

  “Oh, tesoro mio!” Adrina bursts through the ER room door and immediately floods the entire space with her personality. She only has eyes for Rosie, who’s lying in the bed with a bandage on her head and a blanket pulled up to her chest.

  An endless flow of Italian streams from Adrina’s red-lipsticked mouth, punctuated by Rosie’s occasional, “Mamma,” which Adrina completely ignores.

  I slink outside and walk back to the waiting room to give them some privacy, even though I can’t understand a single word Rosie’s mom is saying. She goes into full-on Italian mode when she’s stressed out, something I’d forgotten.

  Gwen and Brody lean into one another in hushed conversation, so I manage to sneak by without being noticed. I need fresh air and room to breathe.

  In those moments when I thought Rosie might be dead, I wanted to die with her. I knew to my bones I couldn’t suffer another death. I’d only opened myself up for a day or two and I could feel the pain begin to slice through me like a rusty knife, tearing open a ragged wound that had no chance of healing.

  The bone-deep relief at hearing her voice and watching her eyes open pushed my desperation aside, only leaving room for getting Rosie to safety and ensuring she didn’t have any hidden injuries. There was the gash on the back of her head, and a likely concussion, but other than that she seemed to be okay. She didn’t even object when they shaved a section of her hair to stitch her up. Just like I knew, she’s strong as steel.

  But, while Rosie’s spirit and strength carried her through the crazy rescue and transport to the hospital, as well as the treatment and head shaving, whatever strength I might have found conversely faded.

  I’ve been sitting in the ER room as they wheel her in and out for x-rays, stitches, and whatever the hell else. My encouraging smile hasn’t wavered in her presence since we arrived and I demanded to be allowed in with her. But, just like right now, when I’m alone the smile fades and reality seeps in.

  This is exactly why I left home. If you don’t know what’s going on, if you don’t see the faces of the people you love, you can insert a distance that keeps you from worrying—that keeps you safe from a broken fucking heart.

  I can’t ever fully erase the memory of my mother’s eyes when she told us Dad had passed. It was unfathomable. He’d gone in for routine surgery and never come out. He was the cornerstone of our family, and without him, it wouldn’t work. It couldn’t.

  The glass double doors part and my steps pick up speed. I need to get out of here. I need to put distance between Rosie and me, and I need to do it fast. I quickly form a plan. I’ll call an Uber and pack my shit w
hen I get home. I can be on the road within a couple hours and on my way to… wherever the fuck I can be alone. All I need is a river and the sun above.

  Who wants to live their life constantly worrying and waiting for the other shoe to drop? Not me, that’s for damn sure.

  “It’s reassuring to know you haven’t changed.”

  The words stop me so abruptly I almost fall on my face.

  There’s no need to turn to know exactly what I’ll see. What is it with the women from my past sneaking up on me?

  “My God, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Denny.”

  My chest squeezes when I try to breathe normally. Thank goodness I’m at a hospital in case it’s the real thing this time. I try for another breath, but it’s more of a wheeze. I close my eyes and concentrate on oxygen. In. Out. In. Out. It’s getting easier.

  I blink my eyes open and there she is, standing right in front of me. Well, sort of. She’s got one foot on the ground, the other leg bent as she supports herself with crutches. Her hair is lighter and shorter than the last time I saw her, but her face is exactly the same.

  My vision blurs, and for a second I think I’m passing out again, but I realize it’s tears. I’m twenty-six fucking years old and the sight of my mama is making me cry like some little kid.

  “Oh, baby.” Her hand comes up to my cheek and one of her crutches drops to the ground.

  I wipe my eyes with a thumb and forefinger and bend to get her crutch, glancing around for a place to sit. “Come on, Mama.” I stand again and lead her to a bench she must have been sitting on while she waited for me to run. Just like she knew I would.

  I get her settled, and her wince of pain doesn’t escape me.

  “What are you doing here?” I take a seat next to her on the wood surface.

  “Stopping you from making a big mistake.”

  Well, she’s always been a bit blunt, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t respond because I know I don’t have to.

  My cell phone rings in my pocket and I ignore it.

  Mama nods. “That’ll be Lynn, I expect.”

  I pull the phone out and, sure enough, Lynn’s number lights the screen. I press accept and lift it to my ear.

  “Please tell me Mama’s there.”

  I look over at my mother again. “Sitting right next to me, in fact.”

  “That sneaky little… let me talk to her.”

  I extend the phone to Mama but she shakes her head. “Tell her I’ll call her later.”

  “Mama says—”

  “I heard her,” Lynn cuts me off. “She said she was going to dinner with Mrs. Nguyen and then never came home!”

  A reluctant smile pulls at my lips. “Well, then I’d say Mrs. Nguyen has officially been stood up.”

  “Very funny.” I try to picture Lynn’s face, but all I can see is the one belonging to a thirteen-year-old. “Fine, you talk to her, but tell her to pick up her phone when I call her next time!”

  Lynn hangs up and I look at Mama.

  “What in the world has happened to Lynn? She’s a regular sassafrass.”

  Mama rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to tell me. She’s comin’ into her own, that’s all, though.”

  “If you say so.” I shove my phone back in my pocket, not wanting to return to the original topic but knowing I can’t just get up and walk away—for countless reasons.

  “So, Denny.” She grabs my hand in one of hers and uses her other to pat it, just like she’s done since I was a kid. “I reckon four years is enough time, don’t you?”

  Shit. I can’t do this with her.

  She gives my hand another pat. “I gave it to you because I know you needed some time. We all grieve differently, and I honestly wasn’t all that surprised, to tell you the truth. You’ve always felt things… deeper than your brothers and sister.” I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you all loved your dad equally, but the heart is a truly complicated thing.”

  I shift in my seat, simultaneously taking in her words and trying to push them away. She’s giving me way too much credit.

  And I have an Uber to catch.

  “Baby, look at me.”

  My muscles obey without my permission. My own eyes stare back at me and I swallow thickly.

  She squeezes my hand with surprising strength. “I promise you—and I’ll swear on anything you want me to—it’s worth it.”

  My nose stings and the tears prick my eyes again.

  “I wouldn’t trade one single minute I spent with your dad to avoid the pain of losing him.”

  I swallow again. “I just…” But I don’t know what comes after that.

  “You can’t run away from your own heart. It’s like trying to escape your shadow. The only time it works is when you’re living in darkness.” Her voice is full of both conviction and warmth. I’ve missed her so damn much.

  She holds my hand in both of hers as I breathe through the returning tightness in my chest until my lungs finally loosen their death grip.

  Mama’s brow furrows and she sends me a small smile. “And, besides, I need somebody on my side with this whole Ben Wheeler business. Your sister is determined to turn my hair gray.”

  I choke out a half-laugh/half-sob. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to somebody about that.”

  She sighs lightly, still with the smile. “So, what’ll it be? Darkness or coming back into the fold?” Her thumb rubs over the back of my hand and I drop my eyes, watching the movement for a few beats.

  “I’ve always been a fan of light,” I finally say. Light and the wide-open spaces. I’ve never been a darkness kind of guy.

  And I just happen to know exactly where I can find the sun.

  The last time Rosie Carmichael tried to kiss me, she didn’t even have a chance.

  Because I was one step ahead of her and my lips were already on hers.

  She claimed the concussion made her head light, but I know better.

  * * *

  THE END

  If you enjoyed Full-On-Clinger, check out Sylvie Stewart’s The Way You Are, part of the Carolina Connections Series of hot romantic comedies!

  www.sylviestewartauthor.com

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  About the Author

  USA Today bestselling author Sylvie Stewart is addicted to Romantic Comedy and Contemporary Romance, and she’s not looking for a cure. She hails from the great state of North Carolina, so it’s no surprise that most of her books are set in the Tar Heel state. She’s a wife to a hilarious dude and mommy to ten-year-old twin boys who tend to take after their father in every way. Sylvie often wonders if they’re actually hers, but then she remembers being a human incubator for a gazillion months. Ah, good times.

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  Sylvie began publishing when her kids started elementary school, and she loves sharing her stories with readers and hopefully making them laugh and swoon a bit along the way. If she’s not in her comfy green writing chair, she’s probably camping or kayaking with her family or having a glass of wine while binge-watching Hulu. Or she’s been kidnapped—so what are you doing just sitting there?!!

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  **Winner of the 2017 National Indie Excellence Award for Romantic Comedy

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  **Winner of the 2017 Readers’ Favorite Silver Medal for Romantic Comedy

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  www.sylviestewartauthor.com

  Interview with the Dom

  Rylee Swan

  Interview with the Dom © copyright 2018 Rylee Swann

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  Interview with the Dom

  He insists on just one condition to this interview... but will I survive the heat when we come together?

  * * *

  When the respected newspaper I work for changes owners and becomes nothing but a gossip rag, I quit. Bad idea. Three months later, I'm still looking for a job, watching my savings dwindle down into nothing.

  * * *

  Then a miracle happens... Glam magazine needs a journalist for their World column. I couldn't be more perfect. Except that their idea of news is vastly different from mine. Instead of writing award winning editorials about world hunger and sex trafficking, I'm assigned to interview Master X, the handsome owner of a sex club.

  * * *

  The Dom agrees to the interview... on one condition. He won't answer my questions about his lifestyle. He wants to show me instead.

  1

  Caroline

  “Fine… I quit.”

  Oh my god. Did that just come out of my mouth?

  Shit. It did, and from the look in my boss’s eyes, I’m not sure who’s more surprised, me or him.