'Tis the Season to Be Tempted (5 page)

Her mom’s voice drifted in from the living room to her right, followed by her father’s and then her brother’s, and Evie’s heart wilted a little more. She needed strength. She needed courage.

At the very least, she needed a cup of strong coffee.

Hoping to postpone the moment of truth, of admitting she needed help, Evie headed down the marble corridor. She pushed through the swinging doors of the kitchen, only to come to a grinding halt.

Because there, talking on his cell phone next to the coffee pot, stood Wes.

Wes.

Her heart expanded with joy and contracted in fear, all at the same time. Elated to see him again. Petrified of how she’d come to feel about him in such a short time. He caught her eye, his gaze firm on hers as he brought his conversation to a close and hung up.

Five heartbeats passed as they stared at each other, the silence filled with the sound of the coffee streaming into the carafe. She took in the well-muscled chest beneath his blue T-shirt, the lean hips encased in jeans, and the dark, boyishly ruffled hair. But mostly she admired the sinful, hazel eyes. Good God, the thick lashes really gave him a sensually sated look.

Or maybe that was just courtesy of last night.

Goose bumps skittered across her skin, spreading to all corners of her body, setting each cell humming at the memory. Every touch, every fiercely passionate look on his face, and every sigh she’d let out in response, settled into her brain as if to stay forever.

“I thought you had to work today,” she said, feeling as if she’d just sprinted the whole way here.

His brow bunched as he slipped his phone into his jeans pocket. “Maybe I called in sick.”

The absurdity of his statement brought a wry twist to her mouth. “It’s your company,” she said. “You’re the boss.”

His eyes crinkled, his amusement growing deeper. “Just don’t tell my secretary that.”

Several more seconds passed as she barely suppressed the urge to throw herself in his arms and bury her face against that hard chest. To let those strong arms both shelter her and encourage her to move forward. And she couldn’t take the waiting anymore.

“Why are you here, Wes?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he said simply.

She bit her lower lip, the wonderful words rolling through her. Not exactly what she’d expect from the man who’d listed her family as the main reason he shouldn’t sleep with her.

Evie swallowed hard. “At my parents’ house?”

His expression was one of a man who’d grappled with an issue and come to a conclusion. Hip propped against the kitchen counter, he crossed his arms, the well-formed biceps reminding her of his strength when he’d lifted her onto the bar.

He was everything she needed and more.

Focus, Evie. Focus.

“Ever since my father’s embezzlement…,” he said. The words came out slow, thoughtful. “I’ve spent a lot of time worrying about what the rest of the world thinks.”

Evie studied him, the news surprising. She’d always thought of him as this amazing tower of strength. But maybe, in a way, that was a weakness, too.

“Is being perfect getting old?” she asked.

He let out a scoff. “It’s getting boring.”

There was a two-second pause before he went on.

“This morning I decided being here is more important than worrying about how your family will react.” Beautiful eyes steadily held hers, his face calm, and he lifted one of those broad shoulders that surely had marks from her fingernails. His voice grew softer. “Because you’re stronger than they give you credit for, Evie. Stronger than
Dan
gives you credit for. The reckless teen has grown into an incredibly brave woman,” he said. She held her breath, stunned, and he went on. “I thought you deserved to have someone who knows that by your side during your initial homecoming.”

Tears pricked her eyes, the surge of gratefulness so strong her knees almost collapsed. He’d set aside his worries about her brother’s reaction to come and support her. He’d stayed to watch over her when her fear had driven her to drink too much. But that was the side of Wes she knew well. The Wes who always did the right thing. It didn’t mean things had changed much.

“What took you so long to get here?” he asked.

“I drove around for a while,” she said. “I needed to think.”

No need to share about what. Her family. Her brother.

Last night…

“I’ve been doing some thinking, too,” he said. “About us. About our future.”

Hope sliced through her, scaring her with just how much she wanted there to be an “us.” Sympathetic support from a friend was one thing. Considering something more was something else. But she knew better than to get attached to that dream. Her whole childhood had prepared her for this moment. Because ultimately, she wouldn’t fit with his life. She couldn’t bear being set up for expectations she could never fulfill. Just like with her family. And she couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Wes.

“There is no future for us,” she said.

“There could be.”

Her heart tripped, and the painful landing triggered a swift, quiet inhalation. For several seconds she dreamed of exactly that. Of saying yes and being free to be with Wes. To talk to him. To burrow into his arms when things got too tough.

Free to touch him whenever she wanted.

“Wes, you’re not thinking straight,” she said, hoping to keep it together long enough to send him away. “You’re just suffering from the lingering effects of my seduction technique.”

His faint grin was positively breathtaking. “That’s true,” he said. “But I’ve also come to the conclusion that I’d like to give us a try.”

Eyes wide, she blinked, her gaze stuck on the honesty in his expression. “Give us a try…” Her voice trailed off for a moment before she was capable of going on, the truth bitter on her lips. “You don’t want me as your girlfriend.”

“Yes, I do,” he said.

The joy and longing were too much, and fear gripped Evie. She couldn’t continue to be the problem that needed to be solved.

“No, you don’t,” she said, her voice full of worry and doubt. And her protest was a strong one. “I’m too opinionated.”

“I love your opinions.”

“I don’t have a job.”

“You’ll find one,” he said confidently. “And Dan wants to lend you a hand.”

Evie grimaced. “I don’t want to be that loser who constantly needs to be rescued.”

“You’ve accomplished a hell of a lot since you left home. You turned an unknown band into a success. Don’t be too proud to accept help from the ones who love you, Evie,” he said in a low voice. “It doesn’t mean you’re a loser. It makes you human.”

But deep down she knew that wasn’t the main reason she was afraid. What if she tried and
still
failed? She hadn’t even attempted with her family, but she realized now that was just a self-defense mechanism. Because failing at something you hadn’t given any real effort to didn’t hurt near as much as the alternative. What if she tried to fit into his world and screwed up so badly he walked away? The thought sat heavy on her chest, making breathing difficult.

So did the possibilities.

Her heart strained to cage the hope wildly building in her chest. “I will never be that perfect CEO accessory.”

Wes tipped his head, his brow furrowing with curiosity. “What are you talking about?”

“You know the type,” she said, beginning to feel desperate, not caring her excuses were lame. “The perfect hostess to your clients. I don’t want to feel obligated to wear the right clothes, or make that banal polite conversation that goes with the territory.”

“Well, I sure as hell hope not.” Wes’s gaze burned into hers as he advanced. “Because that isn’t the woman I’m interested in.”

The look in his eyes as he drew closer sent her body into a tizzy, begging for her to give in. If he touched her she was a goner. She’d never be able to resist the man who could so easily melt her into a puddle of “yes, please” faster than you could say “kitchen utensils.”

She began to back up. “I’ll chase away every business client you have with my opinions and my ‘shut the hell up’ T-shirt. I can’t be the kind of woman my mother and sisters are. I don’t want to be.”

“I don’t want you to be, either,” he said.

Dear God he sounded so calm. How could she argue with the man?

“Wes, my life is a mess,” she said, her voice growing desperate as she dragged her hand through her hair. “I’ve come home after ten years away.” She pointed in the direction of the living room where her family sat, waiting for the arrival of their prodigal daughter. “They don’t know who I am. Hell,” she said, her retreating footsteps faltering a bit. But her voice grew stronger as the truth came out with more feeling than she’d planned—all the fears building for the past year or more came rushing out with such intense feeling it almost hurt. Tears pricked her lids. “
I
don’t know who I am anymore.”

Understanding flickered through Wes’s eyes, but he kept coming, slowly heading in her direction. Alarm bells clanged in her head as she continued to back up.

“And there are bound to be major bumps along the way to finding out,” she pressed on, scrambling to make her case before she ran out of room for retreat, and then her hips hit a kitchen cabinet.

Too late.

He stepped close enough to touch, and she fought her need for this man as he came to a stop in front of her. So near she could smell his woodsy cologne and see the beautiful little flecks of green and brown in his gaze.

“I want you in my life, Evie Lee Burling.
Whoever
you are.” The gorgeously fringed eyes and his words melted the last of her resolve. “I’m just asking to come along for the ride.”

Her resistance and doubt and fear crumpled like a soggy house of cards and she closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his hard chest. Blowing out a relieved breath, he pulled her flush against him. Evie inhaled his scent and let the familiar sensation steal through her veins.

The sensation of coming home.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the feel of his body against hers, the strong arms that made her feel protected.

“What were you going to do if I’d said no?” she asked, smiling up at Wes.

The faint grin that crept up his face curled her toes. “Pull out the spatula.”

Evie laughed. “You are such a tease, Harvard,” she said, snuggling closer to his chest and letting out a blissful sigh. “This is going to be the best year ever.”

Acknowledgments

To Heidi Rice, Amy Andrews, and Kate Hardy. I was a fan of you all long before I became a colleague. Working with the three of you has been a real privilege.

About the Author

The summer she turned eleven, Aimee left the children’s section of the library, entered an aisle full of romance novels, and pulled out a book. That story sparked a love affair with the genre that has never faded.

Armed with a fantastic part-time job as a physician in the Alaskan bush (imagine a combination of
Northern Exposure
and
E.R.
, minus the beautiful mountains and George Clooney), she enjoys being home in the gorgeous Black Hills of South Dakota, riding her dirt bike with her three wonderful kids and beyond-patient husband. But every morning she gets to play God and flirt vicariously through her characters.

Her motto? Life is too short to do anything less than what you absolutely love. She counts herself lucky to have two jobs she adores.

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