Instant Temptation (18 page)

Since she happened to know he was even better than good—try amazing—she wasn’t in a great mood. So when her cell buzzed for the dozenth time, she picked it up and said “I’m not talking about the time I spent with the Wilder sex god, and you can’t make me.”

There was a beat of silence, then “Hey, Beautiful.”

Oh, God. Perfect. It was Stone. The sex god’s brother. She winced and set her head to the table.

“Anything you want to tell me?” he asked.

“No.” Most definitely not.

“Okay, but for future reference, I’m the sex god in the Wilder family.”

“Good to know,” she said weakly in tune to his laugh. “Everything okay?”

“No complaints. Got a favor, though.”

How many scrapes had Stone, or any of the Wilders for that matter, helped her out of over the years?

Too many to count. “Anything.”

“Glad to hear that. You still love to kayak?”

“Yes. Why?”

“We have a group of students coming in from Cal Berkeley. They want a two-day kayak down Snake River. They’re hoping to experience some wildlife and get pictures of them doing it. Think you can go along as a co-guide and photographer?”

“TJ put you up to this, right?”

“No. Actually, it’s Emma. She’s afraid the coeds will eat me up for lunch.”

She laughed. Stone was one of the most easygoing guys she’d ever met, with an utter will of steel. He loved Emma more than his next breath. He wasn’t going to stray, ever. “I don’t have any guiding experience, Stone. You know that.”

“No, but you’re an advanced kayaker and you know the wildlife. Plus, you’re a great photographer.”

Much as she loved Stone, she didn’t really want to spend two days listening to him wax poetic on his love life with Emma. Or that, apparently, he was a sex god, at least in his own mind. Plus, she needed to put some hours in at the garage for the sake of her checkbook.

“We’re paying,” Stone said. “And trust me, it’ll be worth your while. Let me bring over the employment app and papers I’d need to hire you, and you can think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” She had to admit, the “we’re paying” had been a pretty good argument. “I’d think Emma would want to go with you on this one, and keep you safe from the scary coeds.”

“Um, yeah. About that—” He broke off suddenly, and it sounded like he covered the receiver before he came back on. “Sorry, Harley. Bad reception, gotta go. See you in a few.”

She hung up, set aside her checkbook, and did some data processing for the internship, frowning when she found that two of her red group coyotes weren’t transmitting. She ran some errands, fielded more TJ questions, and came back to find the folder of employment papers stuck in her door. She set them on her table and went back to the new data she was getting from the field camera.

Those two coyotes were still not transmitting.

It was worrisome, but after a while her mind wandered from coyotes to a certain tough, sexy guide who could rev her body with a single glance.

Hell, she was still revved. She should have just jumped him in that damn sleeping bag.

Only one thing had stopped her—the fact that she wasn’t made for casual sex, and he didn’t tend to do anything but. Not to mention that though he’d played and teased and flirted with her, and made her feel like the only woman on earth, he’d also told her to follow her instincts, even though he knew that those instincts were telling her to keep her distance.

One thing she could count on TJ Wilder for—honesty. He said what he meant and meant what he said. No lies, no subterfuge.

Hot and sexy as he was, he was not good for her. She looked at her coveralls lying over the back of her chair. Nolan was good for her. She was yearning for someone in her life, someone with a penis, and she was quite certain he had one.

But TJ had one, too.

Clearly, she was crazy. She pushed her laptop away and looked at the file of employment papers from Stone. She’d told herself she wasn’t interested in assisting in guiding a trip, or taking vacation pictures. She had plans. Research biologist plans—which unfortunately wasn’t going to earn her a damn penny. She opened the application.

It was a paying job, one that didn’t require coveralls, grease, or dirty fingernails. Just to see how it would look, she put her name on the application. And then her address. But under qualifications, she hesitated. The story of her life, having to prove herself.

But the real truth was, other than her biology degree, she wasn’t sure what her true qualifications were. Somehow she didn’t think “loves the great outdoors” was going to matter. She found herself writing two names, Nolan and TJ. Huh. Guess this wasn’t about her. Nope, juvenile as it was, she was going to make a list of their qualifications.

That should clear things up. Under Nolan’s name she wrote:

Pro—gave me a paying job

Pro—nice smile

Pro—nice body

Pro—well liked

Pro—sweet, steady, stable

Con—haven’t wanted to kiss him since I kissed TJ

Only one con, and to be fair that con was hers, not his. Under TJ’s name she wrote:

Pro—best body in Wishful, maybe the planet

Pro—gave me my first man-made orgasm all year

Pro—offers me his company, his expertise, his friendship, and would also give me the shirt off his back if I needed it

Pro—kisses like heaven

Pro—knows me, perhaps more than I’d like

Con—knows me, perhaps more than I’d like

Con—can’t stop thinking about him

Con—he’ll break my heart if I let him

Con—not sure what his intentions are

There. She stared at the list and chewed on her pencil as she studied the data. The knock at the door startled her out of her analysis. It was Nolan. He smiled warmly and held up an envelope.

“What’s that?” she asked, returning his smile. It was easy to smile at him. He was the kind of guy that inspired…comfortability. He’d moved here from San Francisco a year ago, though he still hadn’t lost the air of being “city.” He was slightly under six feet, and his rangy, runner’s body always looked good in his clothes. He wore dark jeans that had been professionally distressed, a pale blue button-down, and cool Vibram-soled shoes.

“Your paycheck,” he said, waiting patiently for her to step aside and let him in, unlike some men she knew who just barged in invited or not. That should probably be a pro for Nolan.

She took the envelope, knowing the number on it would be pathetically low, as she’d only managed to get in twenty hours. “You didn’t have to deliver it. I’m working tomorrow, I could have picked it up then.”

“I didn’t mind.” In her living room, he turned to face her, hesitated, then came close, his hands going to her arms. “Sorry about dinner the other night.”

“Me too.”

“We keep getting postponed.”

She nodded, and his body shifted a little closer, his eyes on hers. She realized he was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to.

Or she had, before Desolation.

No. Stop. Erase that. She still wanted his kiss. She wanted all of it. Passion. Heat. Love.

Nakedness.

Nolan was the perfect candidate, sweet and loving and kind. He was a long-term candidate as well, a safe one. She let her eyes drift shut and quickly darted her lips with her tongue to moisten them, because there was nothing worse than having lips get stuck together, especially during a first kiss. Briefly she tried to remember which underwear she had on, and if it was cute or sexy. Or God forbid, if it was her laundry day underwear, because—

“Harley? You okay?”

She blinked and found Nolan’s face peering into her own, a bemused smile on his lips. “Yes, why?”

“You look like you’re thinking way too hard.”

“Nope. Not thinking.” She closed her eyes. “Mind’s empty. Carry on.” She sensed his smile. To help him along, she leaned into him, lips puckered as she wondered—did he kiss good? With tongue? Without?

Or worse, with too much tongue. Her eyes flew open, and she found his lips nearly touching hers. “Oh!

Sorry! Um, would you like some water? I’m really dry, I think I need some water.”

He opened his eyes. He didn’t sigh, but he looked like he was thinking about it. “I’m fine, thanks. Harley—”

“Hang on.” She whirled into the kitchen, moved to the cupboard for a glass, and set her forehead against the wood. What was that? You can do this, she told herself. You can be attracted to someone other than TJ. You can be attracted to Nolan. You were only a few days ago.

“Harley.”

Almost yelping in surprise at the sound of him just behind her, she straightened and filled her glass at the sink. When she turned, Nolan was leaning back against the fridge, once again studying her with that slightly bemused expression.

She realized she caused that expression in men a lot.

“Better?” he asked as she drank.

“Much.”

Nodding, he came close again, his intent in his deep blue eyes.

Okay, Harley, this is your chance. A nice man. A good man. A long-term, happily-ever-after man. She let him take the glass from her, which he set in the sink. See, he’s neat, too, she told herself as he shifted closer, his eyes lit with pleasure, and then—and then the alien within her lifted her hand between them, halting his progress. “I forgot to get my mail today.”

He went still for a beat, then blinked. “And…you need to get it right now?”

Her heart was suddenly thundering. “Um…no. That would be silly.” She gripped his shirt and forcibly pulled him in. His hands went to her hips and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Nolan?”

Again he stopped, his eyes suddenly flashing with both wry humor and resignment. “Are you thirsty again?”

“No,” she whispered miserably. “Worse.”

His smile faded but he remained gentle as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Harley.”

“No, it’s not.” She closed her eyes, then felt the sweet press of his mouth on her forehead. “I’m sorry,”

she whispered.

“You can’t fake chemistry,” he said.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

He let out a soft, regretful laugh at the clichéd line, and she winced. “I mean—”

“I know.”

“God, I’m such a jerk.”

“No,” he said. “You’ve clearly got your mind on something else. Or someone else.” He paused thoughtfully at her grimace. “I heard you had a long two nights out there in Desolation.”

“Yes.”

“And that TJ Wilder was your guide.”

She grimaced again. “Not guide, exactly.”

“Ah.” He let out another low laugh, this one mirthless, as he nodded, not looking thrilled. “So it is a someone.”

Dammit. “I don’t want there to be, trust me.” But unfortunately, her head and her heart were two very different beasts, with two very different tastes. “I’m really so very sorry.”

He opened his mouth just as Skye bounded in from outside. “Hi honey, I’m home!” she yelled, shutting the door, not yet looking into the kitchen. “I heard you and TJ Wilder had a romp worthy of his last name. It’s all over town that—” She turned, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the sight of Nolan. Smile frozen, she gave him a little finger waggle. “Hi, Cute Stuff. Has Harley ever told you that I have a drinking problem? I’m coming off a three-day bender as we speak.”

“Skye,” Harley murmured.

Nolan looked like he was thinking about smiling. “It’s okay, Skye. I was dumped before you got in the front door.”

“Dumped?” Skye looked at Harley and raised a curious brow. “Interesting.”

Nolan made to leave, but Harley grabbed his hand. “Nolan—”

“It’s okay, Harley. No hard feelings.”

Well maybe he didn’t have hard feelings, but she sure as hell did. This was TJ and his magic fingers’

fault. If he hadn’t given her that orgasm, she’d have been fine. Fine.

Okay, so it wasn’t TJ’s fault, but she wanted someone to blame. She supposed she should grow up and look in the mirror. “I want you to know, Nolan, that whatever you heard isn’t true.” Well, unless he heard that she’d crawled into TJ’s sleeping bag and let him—oh, God. “Most of it anyway.”

“Harley,” he said with terrifying kindness. “It’s okay to stop talking.”

Right. Miserable, she nodded. And when the door closed behind him, she turned to Skye, who lifted her hands in surrender.

“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” Skye said. “You can’t shoot the messenger.”

“Wanna bet?”

“So you and TJ…?”

“Ohmigod. Why is everyone talking about this?”

“Because Shelly was with Annie when the two of you came back together. Shelly went to work her shift at Moody’s and told someone who told someone—hell, Harl, you know how it works.” She shrugged.

“This is what happens when you go out with the town’s hottie.”

“We didn’t go out!”

“No, even better, you went directly to the overnight portion of the program. Was it the romance novel I gave you? It was, wasn’t it?”

“Oh my God, this is out of control. TJ and I are…” What? “Nothing. We’re just friends.”

“Since when?” Without waiting for an answer, Skye headed straight for the refrigerator. “Jeez, we need food.”

“We?”

“Okay, me. I need food. Whadda ya got for dinner?”

Harley sighed, reached into her purse and looked in her wallet.

A ten and two ones.

She handed it over.

There was no fast food in Wishful, so their choices were limited to the café, the grocery store, or the gas station convenience store. They both knew there was only enough money for the latter.

“I’m going to take your truck,” Skye said. “I’m low on gas. Hot dogs? Taquitos? Burritos?”

Harley sighed. “All of it. No, wait.” All of it would require that she go for a run tomorrow. “Two hot dogs,” she decided.

“Chili? Cheese?”

“Sure. But make it one hot dog.” She sighed. “My jeans are tight.”

Skye laughed.

“It’s not funny. It means I need to go running.” She hated running. “Okay, skip the chili and the cheese, but add pickles. Pickles are low in calories, right?”

“Well yes, when compared to the actual hot dog itself,” Skye said, amused.

“You know what, add the cheese. I really need the cheese.”

“You’re going to hell in a handbasket, Harl.”