Page 27 of A Tempting Seduction

Gah!

Two years ago, this email would have worked. I would have cried reading it, would have convinced myself that maybe he really had changed, that maybe true love could overcome anything.

I hated that I used to be so gullible and needy. To think I would have bought into all of their trash. I hated that.

Cool your jets. I took ten deep breaths, smelling the coffee and hints of vanilla and chicory. It calmed me. I wasn’t that same person. I’d grown. I knew better. Now, I could see Lance’s drivel for what it was. A calculated performance from a man who was used to getting everything he wanted and was still pissed about the one thing that had slipped through his fingers. Not because he loved me, but because he was incapable of accepting rejection.

He and Fiona’s ex were probably related somehow.

Plus, the timing wasn't coincidental either. He'd sent this after winning his election, when he was feeling powerful and confident. This was Lance's victory lap, his attempt to collect the one prize that had escaped him.

I was tempted to respond. Dang tempted. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, imagining all the things I could say. I could tell him exactly what I thought of his “moment of weakness” and his pathetic attempts at manipulation.

But responding would be a mistake. It would give him information about where I was, what I was doing, how I was feeling. It would tell him I was still paying attention to his life, still invested enough to get angry.

Most importantly, it would mean I hadn't really moved on.

I closed the email without responding and logged out of the account. I cleared the browser history, deleted the cookies, and shut down the VPN.

No traces left behind.

At the counter, I ordered one of their specialty coffees this time. A chili chocolate mocha off their menu, to go. I thought about everything I'd just read and felt a grin spread across my face. I was over it. Over them. Over all of it. And dang, it felt good.

Marcus handed me the cup and hurried back to help another customer. I took a sip and actually laughed out loud.

Java Jolt kicked this coffee's rear.

Chapter Seven

The construction trailer was starting to feel warm. Thank goodness for the air conditioning unit that was working overtime to keep the blueprints from curling at the edges. I spread the latest revisions across the folding table and anchored the corners with coffee mugs while Walker perched on a stack of supply catalogs, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Renzo Drakos stood at the head of the table, his finger tracing property lines on the site plan. The man had the kind of focused intensity that came from years of turning architectural dreams into concrete reality. He was dang good at his job.

“The mixed-use residential development will span fifty-seven acres on the eastern outskirts of Jasper Creek,” Renzo said, his voice carrying the confidence of someone who knew his business inside and out.

“Fifty-seven acres.” Walker whistled low. “Harvey wasn't kidding when he said this was big.”

Renzo nodded and pointed to different sections of the blueprint. “We've got three distinct housing tiers. The luxury homes will sit on the ridge, taking advantage of the mountain views. One to two acres per lot, custom everything. The price will be what the customer wants to pay. Each home will be different. We’ll set the clients up with one of the three architects we’ve approved. We’ve already had three of the lots sold, and two sets of drawings with structural engineers. Things are ramping up quick. As soon as the stamped drawings come in, you’ll be one of the first to see them.”

“Mid-tier housing goes here.” Renzo's finger moved to the center section of the development. “Quarter-acre lots, three- and four-bedroom floor plans, designed for growing families.”

“That's where the real market is,” Walker said. “Young professionals, families moving out from Knoxville who want small-town living but don't want to sacrifice modern amenities.”

“Exactly.” Renzo's eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Plus, we’ve got a price point that is fifteen percent under what is currently being sold in Gatlinburg.”

I looked up fast. “How are you doing that?”

“Two ways. Harvey’s been sitting on the land for fifteen years, so he got it cheap compared to the prices now. Next, is because of the people we’ve chosen to work with. We didn’t choose the lowest bids, but we chose reasonable ones by reputable people. That’s keeping costs down.”

I looked Renzo in the eye. “It sounds to me like you might not be making as much profit as you usually would when I look at these prices.”

“You’d be right. Harvey and I wanted to work close to home. What’s more, we wanted to build something that we could be proud of. Something that the people of Jasper Creek could be proud of.”

“I hear that,” I whispered. Walker nodded.

“But here's what makes this project really special,” Renzo said.

He turned to a different section of the plans, where smaller structures were clustered near the main road. The drawings showed modest homes, efficiently designed but still attractive.