Page 4 of Twelve Days of Temptation (Temptation 1)
He gave her what he hoped was his sweetest smile. “Well, if you need anything, I’m not hard to find.”
Their food arrived. They stayed on safe subjects while they ate. They discussed how it was colder than normal for that time of year. They laughed about the large Rudolph the town still used in a decoration that topped a local dam. It had fallen into the river several times and was now a tattered leader of an otherwise pristine herd of reindeer pulling a large unmanned sleigh.
“Some things don’t change,” she said.
“Everything changes,” Brock said. “My dad would say that is life’s only constant—nothing stays the same.”
“I like your dad. He was always so kind to my mother. Do you still work for him?”
“No, he retired, and I took over the company.”
Kate took a final bite of her breakfast, closed her eyes for a second as she savored it, then pushed her plate back. “So now you fix up houses like your dad did? That’s nice.”
Brock made a sound deep in his chest at her word choice. He waved over the waitress and asked for the bill. Kate tried to give him money for it, but he refused her offer and paid the bill. “It’s on me.”
She tucked her money back into her wallet and said, “You didn’t have to do that.” She stood. “But thank you. And thank you for asking me to sit with you. That was really . . .”
Brock stood and pushed in his chair with more force than he meant to. “I know—nice.” They walked together out of the café and stood for a moment, awkwardly looking at each other. “You’re not alone in this town, Kate. If you need anything, just call.”
“I will,” she said as she buttoned her coat, but she said it in a tone that Brock knew meant she wouldn’t.
They parted and Brock climbed into his truck, debating the morality of moving forward with his plans for Kate. A better man would respect that she was in a period of transition in her life and leave her alone.
And that man would never fuck her.
If she wants a bad boy, I can be that man.
And what she wants will be clear tomorrow morning when I text her.
If she answers.
I’m in.
Chapter Four
Kate woke the next morning well before the sun came up. She showered and dressed in her usual pristine cotton slacks and silk blouse, even though she had no plans to go anywhere. She told herself she wasn’t waiting for anything to arrive.
She paced back and forth in her living room, periodically pulling back the curtains to check if someone was on her doorstep. No one was, and each time she checked she swore she wouldn’t do it again.
But she did.
Finally, around 8:00 a.m., she decided to make herself a cup of coffee to hopefully calm her churning stomach. This is ridiculous. What I should be doing is calling the police and having them watch my house.
Her doorbell rang, and she tripped on the rug in the hallway as she sprinted to the door. As she lay there, sprawled out and wondering if she’d broken anything, she started to laugh.
Is this how it’s going to end for me? The coroner will work with detectives to determine the cause of my death, and they’ll have no other option but to conclude that I beat myself to death running for what is most likely a nicely wrapped dildo.
She pushed herself off the floor and stretched; although slightly sore, all of her limbs were still intact. When she finally opened the door, she didn’t expect to find anyone there, and no one was.
The package was surprisingly large. Just like the gift the day before, it was covered in gold wrapping paper and a red velvet ribbon. It was over a foot tall and twice as wide. She picked it up and carried it to her kitchen table.
She took the prepaid cell phone out of her purse and laid it beside the gift box. Together they represented everything she normally wouldn’t do. More socially awkward than she cared to admit, Kate didn’t open up easily to new people. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them; it was that she never knew what to say or how to behave. She had a reputation for being unfriendly, but the truth was, she was painfully shy. Definitely not the type to trust a nameless, faceless, sexually deviant texter, no matter how many gifts he sent.
Still, was there any harm in opening the gift just to see what it was? She could always rewrap it. Of course, she wasn’t going to use whatever was in it, but putting it back outside on the porch without at least peeking at its contents? Well, who could do that?
Kate picked up the box and shook it. She’d never been good at guessing the contents of a gift, but it sounded like there were bottles inside.
Oh, what the hell.
She tore off the ribbon and paper, uncovering an expensive-looking white box emblazoned with gold letters. Judy’s Bath and Beauty. Kate removed the lid, took out the contents one item at a time, and was amazed by the thoughtfulness that had gone into the gift.
A handmade, thigh-length, white cotton robe decorated with stunning embroidery was tucked in a basket with matching bath slippers. There were three white vanilla-scented candles, a wide variety of bath soaps, and a small MP3 player with an attached speaker. She turned it on and was surprised to hear soothing piano music. Had Kate designed a gift basket for herself, she couldn’t have chosen better.
It was eerie and sweet.
She picked up the phone and took a deep breath. If she turned it on she might as well put a sign in her front yard announcing to her elf friend that she wanted more gifts. The most sensible course of action would be to place the phone inside the box, along with all of the items she’d removed, and put it out on the curb.
She turned the phone on. He hadn’t written since the day before, and Kate wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
She shook her head and put both her own cell phone and its crazy companion into her purse. She needed a few things from the supermarket and decided that getting out of the house for the day would stop her from making an impulsive and possibly dangerous decision.
She stopped by the mirror on the way out, absently checking that her hair and makeup were in place while she shrugged on her winter coat. Appearances had been important to her mother and, therefore, they had always mattered to Kate. Outward beauty, Kate had recently learned, could conceal a host of evils. Wendy had admitted to Kate that part of the thrill of sleeping with Wayne had been finally beating Kate at something. Kate had considered Wendy a friend, not someone she was competing with. Kate was still trying to understand how one person could celebrate the ill fortune of another.
Marriage vows meant nothing. Friendships concealed malicious intent.
What was left to believe in?
A short while later, Kate was choosing a carton of eggs when she heard three women talking a few feet away from her.
“I heard she’s only here until her divorce is final. As soon as the money comes in, she’s gone.”
“Eli told me that’s her natural hair color. I don’t think it could be, do you?”
Kate closed her eyes. I suppose I should be grateful they aren’t discussing my letter to Santa. Maybe my perverted elf can keep a secret.
“She’s skinny, but too skinny, you know what I mean? There’s that line where thin is beautiful, and then you cross into ‘looks sickly.’ She looked prettier when she first got here, didn’t she?”
“I think she’s still beautiful. Too bad she’s such a bitch.”
Kate dropped the carton of eggs on the floor and turned. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and walked away from the mess, not stopping until she was standing right in front of the women who were now starting at her with mouths hanging open. She forced a smile and said, “I am not a bitch. I have never and would never do anything to hurt anyone. I wish I could say the same about the three of you. I lost my mother and my husband in one year. If my appearance is not up to your standards, please have the decency to discuss it where I don’t have to hear you.” With that, Kate proudly raised her chin and walked away, leaving her full shopping cart in the middle of the
aisle. She didn’t stop until she was in her car, her hands shaking as they held the steering wheel.
Confrontation always made Kate nervous, but this time instead of feeling worse, Kate felt empowered. Ladylike or not, she’d stood up for herself—and it felt damn good.
Her stomach was growling. She impulsively drove to Molly’s Café. Only a few of the tables were occupied. She’d half hoped to run into Brock again, but upon not seeing him she told herself it was for the best. He probably had a girlfriend, and was already unpopular enough in town without stirring up that kind of trouble. Still, she chose the same table she and Brock had eaten at and ordered the chocolate pancakes again—only this time with double whipped cream. The same waitress from the day before delivered her decadent stack and joked, “I guess you really liked them. It’s good to indulge sometimes. What is life without a little fun?”
Kate thought about the gift back at her house and came to a decision. “You are absolutely right.” She savored every bite of the melted chocolate and cream, left the waitress a huge tip, and went home to take a nice long bath.
***
