Twelve Days of Temptation

  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.

  ***

  Brock kept checking his prepaid phone for a text from Kate, but one never came. The employee he’d asked to drop off his gifts each day was pretty sure she hadn’t seen him leaving them. Brock was paying the young man well to be discrete, and had promised to pay him double at the end of the game if she never caught him. The young man had looked on the verge of asking several questions when Brock had approached him about running a few covert errands for some extra cash, but he’d kept them to himself as soon as Brock doubled the offer. Money had a way of silencing questions.

  He was closing his office when his sister and her best friend came in. Linda was his twin by birth, his friend by choice. She was exceptionally short and joked that God had given her a personality twice her size to make up for it. She dealt with his vendors, and they loved her. All her sweet talk softened her directness. Vendors paid on time because they didn’t want to be on her bad side, but they sent her baskets of goodies around the holidays because they also loved her smile.

  Her friend Dawn, with her dark brown hair and eyes, looked like a taller version of Linda. Most people assumed they were sisters. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with.

  Diving right in without the pleasantries of a greeting, Linda said, “Brock, I’m going to hell.”

  Brock hugged his sister and laughed. “And this is news?”

  Linda smiled broadly and smacked his arm. “Seriously, I discovered today I’m not nice and neither is Dawn.”

  Dawn shrugged, but she was also smiling. “I said she was too skinny. You’re the one who called her a bitch.”

  “You practically called her ugly,” Linda volleyed.

  “I said she was bordering on it.”

  Linda dismissed the difference with a wave of her hand. “Whatever, I said she was still pretty, just bitchy. I didn’t know she could hear us.”

  With a sinking feeling he knew who they were referring to, Brock asked, “Who did you two offend?”

  Linda made a circular motion with a finger. “It was three of us. Kim was there.” Linda shook both hands with comic anger in the air. “Oh, my God, it was so awkward. You know Untouchable Kate?”

  “You mean Kate Hale?” Brock asked, feeling the correction was necessary.

  “Yes, her. Okay, so she was at the supermarket, and we were picking up supplies for the office holiday party, and she heard us talking about her.”

  Dawn’s eyes were wide at the memory. “You should have seen how upset she was. She told us off.”

  “Good for her,” Brock said, folding his arms over his chest. “Sounds like you three deserved it.”

  Linda scrunched up her face and said, “I know. We did. I feel awful. I never would have said anything if I thought she could hear me.”

  Brock raised one eyebrow. “How about, you never should have said anything at all?”

  Linda referenced herself and her friend with a waving finger. “Human over here. Not like you, Mr. Perfect.”

  Dawn made a pained face. “The thing is—we feel really bad. When she said she’d lost her mother and her husband in the same year, she looked like she was going to cry. Is there a bouquet for when you’ve accidently been a complete ass to someone?”

  “I’m sure an apology would suffice,” Brock suggested.

  “Like in a text?” Linda asked, looking to Dawn for confirmation.

  “Don’t text her,” Brock said quickly, then stopped himself from saying more.

  Linda nodded. “Brock is right. We should go see her and take her a plate of cookies or something.”

  Dawn looked skeptical. “Is that going to look like we’re trying to fatten her up?”

  Shaking her head, Linda said, “No, it’s almost Christmas. Everyone gives out cookies this time of year.” When Dawn still didn’t look convinced, Linda added, “If you feel funny about visiting her, we could leave a note and cookies on her doorstep. You know, like a peace offering.”

  “No,” Brock said emphatically.

  Linda and Dawn stopped and gave him a strange look. Linda said, “Wow, still bitter over your old crush on her?”

  Brock couldn’t meet his sister’s eye when he said, “No, I just think leaving something on her doorstep is not a good way to apologize to someone.”

  “Fine, that settles it. Dawn, we’ll bake cookies this week and go see her.”

  Battling between wanting his sister to stay the hell away from Kate and wanting Kate to not feel so alone, Brock finally gave in and said, “If you do, ask her to go to lunch with you. I have the feeling she could use some friends right now. Even if they are as crazy as you two.”

  “Do you want to come with us, Brock?” Dawn asked.

  “No. I don’t want be her friend.”

  ***

  That night, Brock paced the rooms of his one-bedroom apartment. He’d never needed much space and worked too much to care about where he lived. His place was clean. It was conveniently located near work and family. That had always been good enough for him.

  Except now it felt small and suffocating.

  He picked up the phone he’d purchased to communicate with Kate and decided he was done waiting for her to contact him.

  Did you like my package, Kate? As soon as he hit send, he reread his message and groaned at the double entendre. Is it any wonder she hasn’t answered me?

  Surprisingly, I did. It wasn’t at all what I expected.

  That’s good,isn’t it? You didn’t text me for instructions when you received it.

  It really wasn’t that confusing. I’ve taken baths before. I figured it out.

  The conversation wasn’t going at all the way he’d imagined it. Did you think of me while you were hot and wet?

  I don’t know anything about you, so . . . no. I didn’t want to ruin the moment by imagining an old man or some teenage boy jerking off to the idea of me in a tub.

  I’m not either of those.

  I don’t know that. Maybe if you told me who you were . . .

  Not going to happen. Tell me about the bath. Did you think about anyone while you were soaping yourself? Did it make you so hot you had to stroke yourself until you came?

  Honestly? No and no. But it was nice. The candles are my favorite scent.

  Brock sank onto his couch and groaned. Nice? Seriously? The phone beside him beeped with an incoming message.

  The music was beautiful, too.

  So much for the articles that said a romantic bath always put women in the mood for sex. There was no way in hell he was going to blow his one chance with Kate. He tossed the phone onto the other side of the couch and reached for his laptop. As it booted up, he cracked his knuckles and rolled up his sleeves.

  He searched for popular female fantasies and studied them with determination. He scoured the Internet for what women were reading. His friends were wrong. It wasn’t one spicy book that women were talking about, it was the whole genre that was
popular. The heat level of some of the romances made his eyebrows meet his hairline a few times. But he downloaded a few of them and read them like he was cramming for a college exam.

  Kate Hale, prepare yourself.

  This elf is going Alpha.

  Chapter Five

  Kate lingered around her house the next day waiting for her doorbell to ring. This time she wasn’t even trying to pretend she wasn’t waiting. The day before, the package had arrived early, but today lunchtime came without a delivery.

  When Kate returned from making herself lunch in the kitchen, either the doorbell hadn’t rung or she hadn’t heard it because there on her porch was her next gift. It was wrapped as the first two had been and was larger than the day before’s. Kate hurriedly carried it to her kitchen table.

  She tore it open without hesitation. Inside were several smaller boxes. She opened the first and found a pair of jeans. She laughed and sent a text.

  Jeans?

  Is that all you’ve opened so far?

  Yes. But why would you send me jeans? I’m totally confused.

  I like them. They’ll make your ass look amazing. And you’ll wear them tonight.

  I will?

  You will. Open the rest of the boxes, Kate.

  The next contained a bottle that looked like perfume. She read its label. Pheremones. The description said they enhanced a woman’s attractiveness.

  So, you don’t like how I dress, and you think I need help attracting men? Thanks. I’m not feeling naughty; I’m feeling insulted.

  The problem, Kate, is you’re overthinking things. It holds you back. The jeans are because I like jeans. The pheromones are because you need confidence. So, tonight, you’ll go to a bar and meet someone.