The Sweetest Temptation (The Whisper Lake Series Book 2)

by Anna Argent

  "It won't happen again," was all Gemma could think to say. "Besides, it's all over now. The bakery should be ready to open in a few more days. I'll work there until you're able to do so yourself, or until we can find someone else to fill in for you. Temporarily, of course."

  "For your information, I'm getting stronger every day. I even made it to the bathroom with only a cane this week. My physical therapist thinks I'll be off the walker in a few more days if I keep working."

  "I don't want you to take any chances."

  "Life is all about taking chances, sweetheart. Once you stop doing that, you might as well be dead." After uttering that statement, Aunt Beth got a distant look in her eyes, like she'd just solved some great puzzle. "I need to make a phone call. Try to get some rest, Gemma. You look exhausted."

  Aunt Beth was right, but Gemma was more than that.

  She was devastated.

  ***

  Beth dialed Cyrus and held her breath while the phone rang.

  She didn't usually call this late, so when he answered, it was with a hint of panic in his voice. "Are you okay, Beth?"

  "No," she said. "I mean, I'm safe—not hurt or anything—but I'm far from okay."

  He let out a relieved sigh. "Tell me what's going on."

  "I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of feeling guilty. I'm tired of not taking chances."

  "I don't understand, sweetheart. You're going to have to spell it out for me."

  "I loved Walter. When I lost him, I didn't think I'd survive. Honestly, I hoped I wouldn't."

  Cotton's voice was low and soft, comforting. "I understand. There's no shame in that. No guilt."

  "The guilt came later. With you. With us." She took a deep breath and let the words free in a rush. "I love you, Cotton, and it feels like I'm cheating on Walter somehow. I know that's ridiculous, but I don't know how to get over it."

  "I understand," he said again, quietly, and she knew he did. He wasn't just saying the words. He felt them. He'd lived them.

  "But I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't want you to be alone, either. I love you." Saying those three words aloud was addicting. She couldn't seem to say them enough, and was certain she was going to start babbling like a child at any moment, uttering confessions of love filled with tears and giggles.

  "I love you, too, Beth. I have for a long time."

  "But I was afraid."

  "You needed time," he corrected.

  "Neither of us has much of that left."

  His voice was low, soft. "And yet it's a lifetime if we want it to be."

  "I do," she said, her tone fierce. "I want that more than I want to walk strong and tall again."

  He chuckled, and his deep voice tickled her ear. "I didn't think you wanted anything more than to get rid of that damn walker."

  "That should tell you something," she said, and then, after a pause to gather her courage. "I'm done being afraid. I'm going to start taking chances again. Starting with you. If you'll have me."

  "Beth Fortier, I love you, and I'll have you any way I can get you."

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Saxon's crew worked long, sweaty hours to finish the job.

  He barely saw Gemma, and when he did, they only spoke as much as necessary for him to stay on task.

  He missed her so much he ached. At night, his whole body would burn with the need to feel her skin on his. It was more than sexual, though it was definitely that. No matter how hard he worked or how exhausted he was at the end of the day, he would lay in his bed and stare at the dark ceiling, replaying every moment he'd spent with her and wish for just a few more.

  I'd give anything for even ten more seconds with your grandmother.

  That's how his grandad felt, and now Saxon understood—at least as well as a man could without the decades of union his grandparents had shared.

  Saxon didn't know how he was going to get over Gemma, but he knew that he would. There was no other choice. Neither one of them could give up their work. Geography was not on their side.

  Maybe his younger brother Nate would take over the construction firm.

  As soon as the stray idea entered Saxon's head, he discarded it. Nate had his own business ventures, and had been very vocal in stating that he was happy doing what he was doing without Dad looking over his shoulder all the time. He'd never once expressed an interest in taking over the company, and Saxon loved his brother too much to steer Nate away from his dreams.

  Saxon spent all night trying to find a solution, and the only ones he could find couldn't stand up to scrutiny in the light of day. As the sun rose and his bedroom brightened, he knew he was right back where he'd been when he'd laid his head on the pillow—with Gemma firmly out of reach.

  His work was nearly done, but Aunt Beth's was just starting.

  She surveyed the repairs on the bakery with a mixture of joy and relief.

  Gemma was with her, as beautiful as ever though her eyes were haunted with shadows of fatigue and her hair lacked its usual glossy bounce.

  Saxon wondered if she'd been having as much trouble sleeping as he had. Part of him hoped that he wasn't alone in his misery, while the rest of him only wanted to see her happy.

  Love was such a fickle creature.

  As soon as Aunt Beth signed off on the repairs, he moved on to the next job, leaving a team of women to clean, organize and start baking.

  Two days after that, the Rise and Shine Bakery opened, complete with a brief ribbon-cutting ceremony in which Aunt Beth wielded a giant pair of gold scissors too big for her frail hands. Gemma smiled, though it didn't touch her brown sugar colored eyes.

  She caught his gaze briefly, then looked away, blinking rapidly.

  Saxon knew how she felt. Sad. Empty. Aching for the impossible.

  A week after that, Gemma's car disappeared from Aunt Beth's driveway and didn't return.

  She'd gone back to her job, back to her life.

  Saxon hoped she'd find a sense of peace and contentment he'd been unable to find himself.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Gemma was miserable.

  She threw herself into her work, hoping that staying busy would help ease her heartache.

  It didn't.

  At the end of every shift, she'd fall into bed, but no matter how exhausted she was, sleep kept slipping through her fingers. And when she did sleep, she dreamed of Saxon, his hand outstretched toward her, but always out of reach.

  She thought about calling him, but what was the point? Their separation was too new for her to do anything but cause more pain. Reopen the wound. Maybe one day they could be friends, but for now, cold turkey was the only real option.

  Eventually she'd get over him, she just wished she knew how long eventually would take. Living like this—trudging through each day, wishing it would be over faster so she didn't have to endure the emptiness in her chest—was going to kill her. Already, her work was suffering, lacking the usual creativity and dramatic flair that had earned her a position as executive chef.

  If she kept up like this, she was going to be fired. And then what?

  Her parents would enjoy another round of I-told-you-so and she would have to step down several rungs on her career ladder to prove herself all over again. Her parents would be all over her to go back to school and get a "real" education. They'd tell her how she was wasting her time as a chef, and she'd tell them that she loved her work and was happy.

  Only now when she said it, it would be a lie.

  She hadn't been happy since she'd left Whisper Lake, and she was afraid that no job would ever fill the void Saxon had left.

  At least things were going well for Aunt Beth. Gemma called her every day before leaving for work, and she seemed so happy. So fulfilled.

  In need of something to lift her spirits, Gemma dialed her aunt on her way to work as she braved the thickening traffic leading toward downtown St. Louis.

  "Hello, sweetheart," Aunt Beth's cheerful voice chimed through the speakers.

&n
bsp; "How are you feeling?" she asked.

  "Wonderful! I'm getting around without the cane most of the time now. Nothing like falling in love to dull life's pains."

  Gemma smiled, letting her aunt's joy lift her spirits. "How is Cotton?"

  "Absolutely perfect. He's helping me at the bakery now, so we can spend more time together." Aunt Beth lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "He's no use in the kitchen, but the customers love him almost as much as I do. We had a line out the door last weekend."

  "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you."

  "I owe it all to you, honey. I can't thank you enough for all your hard work in putting this place back together. I'd say it's as good as new, but it's even better. Those lazy Susans you had Saxon install are a lifesaver."

  At the mention of his name, Gemma's heart gave a hard, painful squeeze. Her throat tightened, and she was struck mute for a moment.

  "Have you spoken to him?" Aunt Beth asked, sounding subdued for the first time.

  "No. I thought it was best to cut things off completely. He must feel the same, because he's made no move to reach out to me, either." And because she couldn't keep herself from asking, "How is he?"

  "Skinny. Exhausted. He installed my picture window yesterday and I barely recognized him. He's usually so…happy."

  Gemma didn't think it was possible, but her heart broke a little more as a few remaining slivers fell away. Tears welled in her eyes, and she had to blink fast to clear them so she could see to drive.

  She tried to speak. Couldn't. Cleared her throat and tried again. The words were hoarse and faint. "I miss him, too."

  "Oh, honey. I hate that you're suffering. I wish you two could work things out somehow."

  "It's impossible. We both have lives, jobs. We can't just let go of everything we've worked so hard to earn for a fling."

  Silence filled the line for so long that Gemma thought she'd lost the connection. "Was it just a fling? Or was it more? I've known you all your life, Gemma. I've seen what infatuation looks like on you. This was…different. Deeper. Wasn't it?"

  Gemma couldn't admit that to herself and still hope to retain her sanity. "It doesn't matter. It's over."

  Aunt Beth's voice was sad now, filled with missed opportunities and broken dreams. "Love is the only thing that matters in this world. When you've lived as long as I have, you are wise enough to know that. I only hope that you listen to me before it's too late."

  "I hear you, but sometimes life gets in the way of doing what we want."

  "And what do you want?"

  "To own my own restaurant, to make a name for myself so that my parents can finally be proud."

  Aunt Beth sighed. "Your mother was born with her head up her ass. I've talked to her until my lips were blue and she still won't look up from her research long enough to see what a wonderful woman you've become. Your father is even worse. It would break my heart for you to give up the important things in life to please people who will never see your true worth—not the way I do. Not the way Saxon does."

  Something deep in Gemma's chest shifted, broke, reshaped itself. The pain was brutal, but when it faded, she knew the truth: She could be the most famous chef on the planet with TV shows, cookbooks, and lines of fans a mile long. Her parents still wouldn't be proud. They would never see the value in the line of work she'd chosen, and she could never be happy doing what would please them. She was busting her ass for a fantasy—one that would never happen.

  It was time for her to start living her life for herself, not for them. The days of trying to appease them were over.

  The moment she accepted that truth, everything changed. It was like a switch had been flipped and a whole new world of possibilities was suddenly revealed.

  She floored the accelerator, excited to go to work for the first time since her return home.

  Gemma had a business proposition to make to her boss.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Saxon was awake and walking around the town square at three in the morning, unable to sleep. That was the only reason he saw the flames.

  He squinted into the dark, unsure of what he was seeing at first. Then, when he processed what the flickering orange light was, he broke into a sprint. His phone was in his hand, dialing his cousin Lucas, who was home from college and back to work as a volunteer firefighter.

  "You're up early," Lucas greeted, his voice clear and alert. "What's up?"

  "There's a fire at the Rise and Shine."

  "We're on it." The words were barely out of Lucas's mouth before the siren sounded at the firehouse a few blocks away.

  Saxon hung up. To his left he saw a blur of motion dart away from the bakery. Away from the fire.

  Arson.

  The word raged through his mind, and on the heels of that was the memory of the ax scars in the roof of the bakery.

  He was torn between running to help put out the flames and following whoever had set them. In the end, there was no contest. His cousin and the men would handle the fire as they were trained to do. All Saxon could do was get in the way.

  He sprinted after the dark figure, catching a glimpse of pale hands and the edge of a face under the streetlights. He couldn't make out who it was, but he was closing the distance fast.

  No one fucked with Aunt Beth and got away with it.

  Saxon had a fleeting thought that he should call law enforcement, but he didn't want to waste the energy or the breath. He was on the trail of his prey, and for the first time since Gemma had left, he felt alive.

  The arsonist rounded a corner, skidding on the concrete for a second. That delay was all he needed to close the distance and pounce.

  He launched himself at the hooded figure, realizing too late that the person was much smaller than he'd imagined.

  They landed hard on the ground. A red plastic gas can spun across the pavement behind the town hall. His bulk drove the air out of the woman with a harsh squeal.

  A woman?

  The odd notion took a second to settle in his head as he scrambled to take control over her flailing arms and legs.

  "Get off of me!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fury.

  Saxon lifted himself up just enough to turn her over.

  Wanda Jessup's face was twisted with rage, as she spat a series of sharp curses aimed at both him and his parents.

  Sirens screamed nearby. He could see the faint wash of flashing red and blue lights catch on the low hanging clouds.

  "Over here," he shouted, hoping someone could hear him above the noise.

  It didn't take long for the people living nearby to start shambling out of their homes to see what was happening. Saxon called to Mrs. Olive Peony, who was the first one on the scene. She was in her mid-sixties, and even at this hour, was in full makeup complete with fake eyelashes. Tight zebra striped leggings peeked out from under a T-shirt that read, Fuck off. I'm sleeping.

  "Call the sheriff," he told her.

  "What are you doing on top of Wanda Jessup?" Mrs. Peony asked, cocking one bony hip.

  "She set the fire."

  "Get off of me!" Wanda screamed, thrashing and clawing at him with every ounce of her strength. She was more than just mad, she was out of control. Deranged.

  Mrs. Peony pulled out a phone covered in crystals and dialed. "Get Conlan down to the square. He's got an arsonist to arrest."

  More people appeared, and finally a couple of men came over to help Saxon hold Wanda down before she hurt herself. She was still fighting like a woman possessed, biting and spitting now that her arms and legs were pinned.

  Saxon had never seen anything like it before in his life. Wanda had always been so calm and subdued.

  "Don't let go of her," came a soft voice behind Saxon.

  He turned his head to see Lulu standing there, pale and shaking.

  "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

  Lulu swallowed. Tears filled her eyes. "She's off her meds again. She doesn't know what she's doing."

  By that time,
Conlan rolled up in his official SUV, took one look at the scene, then radioed in for an ambulance.

  "I want all of you to back up," he ordered. "I know you won't go back to bed, but you can at least give the woman some breathing room."

  Conlan knelt beside Wanda. When he spoke, it was to Saxon. "How long has she been like this?"

  "I saw her running from the fire. I didn't know who it was, but I chased her. Caught her." He nodded his head across the street. "She had a gas can. It flew that way."

  Conlan eyed the men. "You all okay holding onto her until the EMTs get here?"

  Everyone nodded.

  "Be as gentle with her as you can, but don't let her hurt herself."

  Conlan donned a pair of gloves and collected the evidence.

  Lulu knelt beside her mother. Tears streamed down her pretty face. "It's okay, mama. We're going to get you help."

  Wanda shrieked and jerked toward her daughter, teeth bare and snapping.

  Lulu let out a sob and inched away.

  Edmond Jessup shoved his way through the crowd, eyes wild and terrified. The second he saw his wife on the ground being held down by three grown men, he seemed to sag in relief, as if this outcome was far better than what he'd expected.

  He bent over his round belly and stroked his wife's hair. When she tried to bite him, he simply dodged and kept on petting. "You're okay now, Wanda. No one's going to hurt you."

  An insane light glowed in Wanda's wide eyes. "Fucking bitch stole my business. Stole my customers. Stole my life! I made her pay. She'll burn. Burn! Burn!"

  Edmond glanced at Saxon. "Was anyone hurt in the fire?"

  "Aunt Beth doesn't go in until four. I think the building was empty."

  He let out a tight nod. "That's good. When Wanda is back on her meds, she'll be glad no one was hurt."

  "I want her to die!" Wanda shouted. "I'll poison her pies again. Use more poison this time. Kill everyone who eats her food!"

  Lulu hugged herself. Edmond rose and pulled his daughter under his thick arm. "It's going to be okay, honey. We'll get her help and she'll be good as new."