The Sweetest Temptation (The Whisper Lake Series Book 2)

by Anna Argent

  Was that what Saxon was doing? He had asked her out to dinner.

  She'd turned him down and that's when he'd gone cold.

  "I think you may be right, Aunt Beth," Gemma said, her heart pounding. "And if that's the case, then I have to end it. I can't keep leading him on."

  "You're not even willing to give him a chance?"

  "For what? A long-distance relationship with a woman too busy to even take weekends off? In what universe would that ever work?"

  Aunt Beth lowered her gaze to the table. "Whisper Lake isn't so bad. I know your career is important to you, but—"

  "No buts. My career is everything. Without it, I'm just a girl who let her parents down by not doing more with my life."

  "You haven't let them down, honey."

  "You know I have. They always wanted me to follow in their footsteps. Do great things. Solve world hunger, cure cancer. Something that would make them proud." Tears stung her eyes despite the fact that this was an old wound. "If I can work my way up to the top of my field, maybe even gain a bit of celebrity in local circles…they'll have to be proud of me for what I've accomplished."

  Aunt Beth took Gemma's hands in her own, cradling them the way she had when they were much, much smaller. Her voice was gentle and cracked with age. "Sweetheart, if they aren't proud of you for the smart, kind, selfless, hardworking woman you've become, then no amount of success in any job will ever please them. Do you really want to give up what makes you happy for the hope of something your parents are unable to give?"

  Gemma's tears fell then, hot and fast. She wiped them away, sniffed and stood. When her back was finally turned, giving her a sliver of privacy, she was able to speak. Her voice was weak and wavering—small, like that of a child. "I'm afraid that without their approval, Aunt Beth, I'll never truly be happy. What choice do I have but to seek it?"

  ***

  Beth waited until Gemma had left to run errands before she made the call.

  Alistair Grace, the aging patriarch of the Grace family, answered on the second ring.

  "Beth Fortier," he greeted warmly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

  "It's the kids, Alistair. Gemma and Saxon. I'm afraid they're making a mess of things and I think we should put our noses right in the middle of it."

  Alistair didn't even hesitate. "I'm in. Tell me everything."

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Saxon's Grandad rarely asked for help, so when Alistair called and asked Saxon to come by on his lunch break and fix his kitchen sink, he rearranged his day to make it happen.

  He walked in through the front door of the sprawling ranch style house as he'd been doing since he was old enough to toddle eagerly up the paved sidewalk.

  The smell of lavender and roses hit him first, bringing with it memories of countless family gatherings, laughter and hugs. It was Grandmother's scent, and even though she'd been gone a few years now, her spirit still lingered here, as bright and potent as the woman had been in life.

  Framed pictures of the Grace grandchildren covered the walls, along with hand painted plates and sprays of silk flowers. Delicate doilies and handmade afghans added a feminine flourish to the large, sturdy leather and wood furniture Grandad preferred. The hearth was set with kindling, ready for the touch of flame to bring it to life.

  Grandma had loved a roaring fire in all but the hottest of weather, and Grandad had provided. Even now, the whole house had an air of anticipation about it, like she would walk back through the door at any moment, returning to the arms of her beloved husband.

  It was sad, but beautiful—a pause in a love story that would never truly end.

  Saxon found his granddad on the back porch, where he spent much of his free time enjoying nature from the comforts of home. The screened-in room overlooked a large pond where Saxon had caught frogs and sailed plastic boats as a child. The space was furnished with outdoor furniture boasting thick cushions covered in vibrant floral prints. The old wooden swing swayed on its chains, creaking slightly in the breeze. A long picnic table big enough to seat twenty filled one side of the covered porch, which ran the whole length of the house. His family would fill those seats several times this summer for birthdays and holidays, stuffing themselves with barbequed ribs and Flora's famous potato salad.

  Today's lunch was simpler fare—two glasses of sweet tea and two steaming pot pies that Grandad had bought in the freezer section of the grocery store.

  He heard Saxon open the sliders and turned to greet him with a grin and a hug. "I fixed you some lunch. Sit down and have a bite to eat with an old man."

  Saxon eyed the perfectly golden pies, wondering why it was they never turned out like that when he baked them. He always followed the directions, but always ended up with a charred crust and a clump of icy gravy in the middle.

  Disgusting.

  "I am hungry," Saxon admitted. "But I don't have a lot of time to fix the sink."

  Grandad waved a hand in dismissal. "It'll wait. A man can't work on an empty stomach. Sit. Eat. I don't see you as much as I'd like."

  "I could move in with you and you'd still say that."

  Grandad grinned. His Grace green eyes twinkled. "True, but when you get to be my age, you really start to understand what's important in life. A meal with my grandson is at the top of the list."

  Saxon sat and indulged his granddad, glad for both the company and the food. "Dad said you two went fishing. Catch anything good?"

  He shook his head and shivered at the memory. "Lake's still too cold. I'll be able to stay on the water longer when the weather warms up." He broke the crust on his pie, letting the pale gravy well onto the plate. "It was good of you to take on more responsibilities so your dad could go out with me more."

  "He works too hard. It's time to play a little—let the kids pick up the slack."

  "He'll never retire completely."

  "That's okay. It's good for him to keep busy. But I don't want him working sixty-hour weeks anymore, either."

  "Now, if we can get your mother to take a vacation, those two could go on that Alaskan cruise they've been planning since before you were born." Grandad's gaze grew sad and distant. "They should enjoy each other while they can. Time flies too fast to put off the good things."

  "We kids are all chipping in to buy them a cruise for Christmas. Once we book it, they'll have no choice but to go." He held a finger to his lips. "Shh. It's a secret."

  Grandad nodded. "Good plan. Let me know if you need me to add some money to the bucket."

  "I think we've got it covered, but if not, I'll let you know."

  "Good. Now, before you have to run off, tell me about Gemma."

  The abrupt change in topics rattled Saxon. "What about her?"

  "Do you have feelings for her, or is she a fling?"

  Saxon's mouth opened. A strange gurgling sound came out in his shock.

  Grandad let out a belly laugh so loud it vibrated the tea in their glasses. "You should see the look on your face, son. It's like you think I was never once your age or raised three boys just like you."

  "How do you even know about Gemma?"

  "Her aunt called me. Said you two were…involved."

  The idea that Grandad and Aunt Beth had talked about his private life with Gemma gave him the creeps. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but it's really none of your business."

  "You think that only because you've never had children of your own. Once you do, you'll understand that every word that comes out of my mouth is because I love you. Same goes for Beth Fortier and her Gemma."

  Saxon shoved a giant bite of food into his mouth to give him time to think. He needed to extract himself from this conversation before it got any more uncomfortable.

  Then again, Grandad always knew what to do, what to say. Saxon could use a little of that right now.

  He swallowed his food, put his discomfort aside, and said what he needed to say. "I want a relationship. She wants a fling. I like her enough to take what she's willing
to offer."

  "Hoping for more," Grandad finished the unsaid thought.

  "Well, yeah. I mean, she's sexy and sweet and talented. She cares about Aunt Beth enough to risk her job coming here to take care of her. She's even trying to reopen the bakery so that her aunt will have a reason to recover and stay active."

  "She sounds like a keeper."

  Saxon shook his head. "I fell for her too fast. That was my mistake. She's not interested in a relationship."

  "It's never a mistake to fall in love."

  "I'm not in love," he said. "Just…really deep like."

  Grandad sipped his tea, but it looked more like he was trying to hide his grin with the glass than quench his thirst. "Okay. It's never a mistake to fall in deep like. Your mistake is not addressing the real problem."

  "Which is…?"

  "Gemma is damaged goods."

  Anger flared hot and bright under Saxon's skin. "That's a mean thing to say. You don't even know her."

  "I didn't say it to be cruel. I said it because it's true, and because you have to understand where she's coming from if you want to bridge a path between you."

  Saxon took a deep breath and expelled his anger in a rush of air. He owed it to his grandad to give him a chance to explain. "I'm listening."

  "Gemma is used to being let down. When you live with that, sometimes it's easier to have low expectations. When people disappoint you, it doesn't hurt quite so bad."

  Saxon sat up straight, every fiber of his being tuned in and paying attention. "What do you mean, let down? By whom? What did Aunt Beth tell you?"

  Wisdom shone in Grandad's green eyes—eyes Saxon saw in the mirror every day. "You have known from the second you were born that you were loved, wanted. You may not have always agreed with your parents or gotten along with your siblings, but you never once had to worry that your presence was some kind of hardship they had to bear." He let out a long breath. "Gemma wasn't so lucky."

  "She told me a little about how she grew up, but it's hard to imagine. I guess we Grace kids are lucky."

  "The luckiest. It's really intrusive of me to be telling you about Gemma's damage, but I can't stand to think of you losing even a day with a woman who might be the one for you. I'd give anything for even ten more seconds with your grandmother." His eyes filled with tears that refused to fall.

  Saxon held the older man's hand. They all missed Grandma, but no one so much as Grandad.

  Saxon didn't yet know if Gemma was the one for him—the way his grandmother had been for his grandad—but there was a chance. The way he felt about her when she was around…the way he missed her when she was away…there was something between them, and he had to know what it was.

  "Tell me everything," Saxon demanded, his tone much harder than he'd ever used with his granddad before. "I need to know."

  "No," Grandad said. "I've already put my nose in this as far as I can stand. But I will offer you this advice."

  "Okay. What is it?"

  "If you push her away, you'll lose her. She's been pushed away and ignored enough in her life. She needs someone who will hold on and never let go."

  Saxon nodded, absorbing this new information. He didn't know everything he needed to yet, but he knew that Grandad would never steer him wrong.

  "I need to go," Saxon said, standing, his lunch only half eaten. "Can I send one of the men over to fix your sink?"

  Grandad shook his head. "No need. The sink was never broken. I just knew that you would say you were too busy if I didn't need you."

  Saxon grinned. "You really are getting sneaky in your old age."

  Grandad shrugged, unapologetic. "I'm too old to waste time or mince words. Now get out there and deep like that girl the way she deserves."

  ***

  When Gemma put dinner on the table, Saxon was in the living room, chatting with Aunt Beth. He held her gnarled hand in his. Their heads were close together, their voices low and excited.

  Gemma hadn't expected him for dinner, but she was thrilled to see him. Her heart surged against her ribs as if trying to reach out and touch him. The heavy thunder of her pulse made her hands quiver on the bowl of pasta.

  He was so handsome, so solid and strong. So kind. And his smile made her toes curl in her shoes and her lips tingle for one little taste of his joy.

  She was falling for him and didn't know how to stop. She knew she couldn't continue in this free fall without losing her sanity, but she wasn't sure how to slow her descent.

  "What are you two conspiring about?" she asked.

  She thought he'd been smiling before, but when he saw her, his whole face brightened, widening his grin even further.

  He was happy to see her. Openly, unabashedly happy.

  Gemma had no idea why.

  "Just making plans for tomorrow's festivities," Aunt Beth said.

  The town's big Summer Kickoff Festival started bright and early tomorrow morning and would run until Sunday evening. Two days of food, gatherings, games and celebration, because for the rest of the summer, the town belonged to the tourists.

  "I was hoping your aunt would save me a dance," he said. His gaze grew hot and pinned her in place "And you, Gemma."

  Her body quivered at the idea of being pressed against his again, even if it was in public.

  She missed him when he wasn't around. It was a silly, girlish thing to feel, but she couldn't seem to help herself. When Saxon was nearby, her world was brighter, colors more vivid, sounds sweeter.

  Even in the frenetic haze of her work today—baking mountains of treats for the festival—she still felt the lack of his presence as keenly as if she'd been missing an arm.

  She had to get over it. Over him. Aunt Beth's recovery was going well. Gemma would leave in another week or two. Maybe three. She didn't know how she was going to go back to St. Louis and function knowing there wasn't even a chance she'd see his face, feel his touch, taste his kiss.

  "I think she's at a loss for words," Aunt Beth said. "But you can count me in for a dance, so long as you don't mind my walker getting in the way."

  Saxon leaned over and kissed the top of her fluffy white hair. "You're not going to need the walker out on the dance floor." He looked right in Gemma's eyes. "I'd never let you fall."

  Somehow, it seemed like that last part was meant for Gemma more than her aunt.

  She cleared her throat to dislodge the lump forming there.

  "Will you join us for dinner?" Aunt Beth asked.

  "You weren't expecting me. I don't want to take food out of your mouths."

  "Nonsense. Gemma always makes way too much, don't you, honey?"

  She wanted to be near him. She knew every second they spent together was going to make leaving harder, but he was like a drug she couldn't quit. "There's plenty," she told him. "Spaghetti and meatballs."

  Saxon moaned in cartoony delight. "My favorite."

  Aunt Beth pushed to her feet, moving easier than she had been only a week before. She was getting stronger.

  "What did you set aside for dessert?" Aunt Beth asked. "You've been baking for the town for two days. There's got to be a little something left for us."

  "Don't worry," Gemma said indulgently. "I know what a sweet tooth you have. I picked out a whole box of treats just for you. There are more in the freezer for when I'm gone, too."

  "You're such a sweet girl, isn't she, Saxon?"

  His green gaze snared hers, filled with shared intimacies and the promise for more. "The sweetest."

  They filed into the dining room and shared a meal filled with good food and pleasant conversation. Gemma was dying to ask him if there was any progress on the bakery, but didn't want to risk spilling any information that would upset Aunt Beth.

  After they finished eating, her aunt claimed she needed to go straight to bed so she'd be fresh for the big weekend. Gemma knew she was making herself scarce to give Saxon and her time alone.

  Gemma wasn't sure if being alone with Saxon was a good thing or a dangerous thing,
but she knew that she was going to enjoy every second of it.

  He helped her wash the dishes and tidy the kitchen. She loaded some leftovers in plastic containers to send home with him.

  She hated the idea of him going hungry, or worse, eating food even a dog would turn down.

  Gemma had just finished washing her hands when he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His head bent until his mouth was right next to her ear. She felt the warm sweep of his breath over her skin, and the heated contours of muscles at her back.

  So strong. So solid.

  She needed him inside her again. Needed to feel his mouth close over her nipples and his fingers fist in the back of her hair as he took her.

  She shivered despite herself, unable to keep so much potent quivering need inside.

  He kissed the side of her neck, making a million bubbles of desire pop along her skin. She let out a quiet sigh of longing and leaned harder against his sturdy frame.

  He whispered against her ear, tickling the delicate shell of flesh as she spoke. "Go to the festival with me tomorrow. Be my date."

  Gemma tensed. She hadn't expected him to ask her out. She'd thought he'd invite her over to his place, or maybe even bend her over the sink, lift her skirt and take her right here.

  Heaven knew she was wet and ready.

  Saxon Grace, potent male package, no foreplay necessary.

  The question—so innocent compared to her expectations—surprised her. "What?"

  His fingers splayed across her stomach, spanning from the top of her panties all the way to her bra. Heat shimmered into her, relaxing muscles she hadn't realized were tense.

  "Come with me tomorrow," he said. "I want the town to see you on my arm. I want the world to know you're mine."

  Was she his? That certainly hadn't been her intention, but as her mind raced to make sense of his invitation, she realized that there wasn't another man in the world she would rather be with than him.