Read Temptation, The Complete Serial Series 1-4 (The Temptation Serial Series) Online
Authors: Casey L. Bond
Tags: #NA contemporary romance serial
I smiled. “How old are you, Willy?”
He wagged his eyebrows. “Old enough to be your grandpa and still too young to care, sweet cheeks.”
That made me throw my head back and laugh. Willy would be one awesome property manager. He put a cap on the test tube and waved for us to follow him to a small building situated between two of the condos.
“Gotta test the chemicals in the water and make sure we have the right balance, we do.”
What was he, Gollum?
We
? Maybe he was speaking for the owner and himself. Or maybe Willy was just eccentric.
He sat the tube down and shuffled through stacks of papers, leaving wet fingerprints to soak into the paper. “Here they are!”
Sin nudged me and grinned.
I took the paper from him and signed on the line he indicated. This place was mine for the next month and it felt like the pile of bricks on my shoulders just got a little lighter.
“Don’t you want to see it—the condo, I mean?” He grinned. Ornery fella.
“Nah. I trust you.”
“Well, you need to know that there’s a couch and full kitchen and a bed, but there ain’t sheets or towels or pots or anything. There’s a shower curtain!” He raised a finger into the air in triumph.
“Sounds perfect. We have to go get our things and check out of the hotel. We’ll be back in a bit!”
“And shopping!” Sin added with a squeal.
Willy shook his head. “You didn’t stay at the Inn and Out, did ya?” Laughter bubbled up from both of us. “Oh, Lawd.”
He walked off, muttering something we couldn’t hear. But it didn’t matter, because I had a place to stay and…shopping!
***
Flo gave us the evil eye as we checked out of the hotel. True to her word, she took a clipboard and an inspection paper with us and scoured the room from top to bottom to try and find something wrong. When she didn’t find anything, I smiled and held my hand out. Reluctantly, she dropped a fifty into my hand and growled something that sounded like, ‘Have a great day’.
We went to the resale shop in town for a few things, including the items Willy mentioned: sheets, blankets, towels, a couple of pans, and plate settings. I’d settle for plastic silverware for now. He didn’t say if there was a washer and dryer, but I’d figure that out later. A stop at the Piggly Wiggly for food and anything we couldn’t get at the shop, and we were good.
Sin beat me to the driver’s seat, citing my old age as the only thing that gave her an edge. So there was nothing left to do but lean over and lick her face. She scrubbed it off and groaned and said how disgusting I was. She loved me.
On the way back to the condo, I could sense that something was off.
“You okay?”
She smiled over at me. “Yeah. It’s just, I think I finally know what to do with the portraits but I need some supplies and my Dad invited me to dinner tomorrow. He knows I’m within driving distance but doesn’t know where, exactly. Want to come with?”
“No. No, I’m good.” I hated her dad for what he’d done to her. I didn’t care about the reasons behind it. He had actually pretended to sell her to another man. Sure, it was to take the bastard down, but Sin didn’t know that and he sure as hell never told her what was going on. And Johnathon or Johnny or whatever the prick’s name was these days, well, he was awful.
“I want to stay and get settled, but you go! It’ll be fun to catch up with him.”
She nodded. “So you’re cool if I drive into the city tomorrow?”
Tomorrow? “Yeah. I’m totally great. If Willy says the chemicals are okay, I plan on swimming and sitting in the hot southern sun for a while.”
Morgan thanked me but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, or she was hiding something.
She was running from this, from us. Peter had frightened her away from men, making her believe they would use her and run. Men like him disgusted me. She deserved better, and I planned to be that for her.
Despite the danger of rush hour traffic, I found what was left of her phone.
I was monitoring all incoming and outgoing phone calls from Manny’s, Shane’s residence, and had now even tapped Mr. Sinclare’s.
Now that my web was woven, I just had to wait. The Capital was beautiful at night. And I couldn’t wait to see Morgan, Shane, and the former Senator Sinclare. They would be dining at Shay’s that night. It seemed that I, too, had a reservation for dinner at that fine establishment this evening.
Morgan and I slept like babies in the queen-sized bed that came with the furnished condo. Did I mention that it was already in the condo? Did I mention that it was the most comfortable mattress in the entire world? It was. It was like a cloud: poufy and soft and perfect. Rectangular, the way nature intended.
Even the sound of the alarm clock shrieking didn’t bother me. Morgan had to get up early to beat the infamous D.C. traffic. She showered and packed, hovering near the door repeatedly asking if I would be okay and threatening to cancel the entire trip, but I was having none of that.
“See your dad. Get your supplies. Come back and snap some pics. That’s all you need to worry about.” The furrowing of her eyebrows and the giant pouty frown on her face worried me. “I’ll be fine, Morg. Go.”
She wouldn’t listen. So I sort of pushed her and her rolling suitcase out the door. While she was busy yelling at me, I shut and locked the condo door and went back upstairs, falling into my super soft bed again. She may have had to get up at the crack of dawn, but this girl didn’t.
***
The sound of whistling woke me up. Peeking out of the opaque white curtains, I saw Willy working in the gardens surrounding the pool. He was spreading cedar mulch from a wheelbarrow, leaving a thick carpet of the wooden chunks around each plant and tree, insulating them and making everything lovely.
In a fog, I made my way outside, not even bothering to lock the back door. Making my way down the steps to the common garden/pool area, I yelled, “Wil-ly!”
He turned around and put a hand on his lower back, stretching taller, leaning on the tall wooden handle of his rake. “Hey, Brooklyn! How was your first night? Better than the Inn and Out?”
I snorted. “You better believe it. The mattresses are absolutely divine. Did you pick those out?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Boss man did.”
“Boss man? The owner?”
“Yeah. He works long shifts and then comes here to work on the condos when he’s free. The man never takes time off, and you’ll rarely see him around here, even though he’s around.”
“Sort of like a ghost,” I suggested.
He smiled. “Exactly. So, what sort of trouble are you into today?” he asked, looking me up and down.
“Stop staring at me, Willy. I’m more than half your age.”
He just grinned bigger and nodded. “I know. I know that for sure, Brooklyn.”
When I crossed my arms over my chest, the dirty old man’s eyes went straight toward the girls. Those eyeballs were like heat-seeking boobie missiles.
“I was hoping you could point me toward a salon. I need a haircut.”
Willy’s directions were pretty simple. Go back to Main Street and turn left. Walk three blocks and the Curl Up and Dye was on the right. Any of the ladies could help me there, he promised.
Morgan’s absence meant I had to get off my lazy butt and walk. But the walk wouldn’t be a long one. It would, however, be a hot one.
According to the sign at the First Bank of Swift Rapids on Main Street, the temperature was ninety-eight degrees. Add a dash of southern humidity and pavement so hot I could feel the soles of my sandals get sticky, and I was a hot mess by the time I saw the Curl Up and Dye across the street. I was about to step off the curb and jog across the mostly empty road, when a rude police officer pulled his cruiser into my path.
“Better watch yourself. Jaywalking is a crime in these parts,” he said with a smirk. Officer Stone. Oh, joy.
“Yes, sir.” As I walked toward the end of the block, he threw the cruiser in reverse, continually blocking my path. Frustrated and clenching both fists, I finally stopped and growled. “What is your problem? I’m just trying to get a haircut!”
“Haircut, huh?”
“Yes. You know, where a stylist washes your nasty, sweaty hair and then cuts it into a cute shape, blows it dry and curls it?”
He smiled. “You have a smart mouth.”
“You should see my ass,” I muttered under my breath. I happened to be wearing my favorite pair of panties; simple, black cotton with bright white lettering that said, “It Ain’t Gonna Spank Itself.”
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing. Can I please go?”
With a tip of his hat, he said, “Of course, Brooklyn Harris. Have a nice day and stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll remember not to jaywalk,” I promised.
Chuckling, he drove away, finally leaving me to cross the street in peace. I pushed the door open to the shop, jingling a tiny brass bell as I stepped inside. The stylists weren’t busy, but apparently they’d been watching the entire exchange with Officer Douchebag.
What a hot douchebag, though.
Shut up, conscience.
The three women fanned themselves with hair magazines so old, the paper pages were yellow and brittle. Two of them were older, in their fifties at least, both wearing their hair short and teased to within an inch of its life.
The third was cute, with strawberry-blonde hair and a nice figure. Too bad she wore a scowl. What was her problem?
I stepped to the counter and one of the older women moved to stand behind it. “Can I help you, honey?”
“Yeah, I need a haircut, please.”
She looked over the appointment book before her and sighed. “I’m all booked and so is Bernadette,” she said, motioning to her near-twin. “But Lynn is free.” Glancing back to the young woman who was still scowling at me, I nodded.
“If she doesn’t mind, I’d love a cut.”
Smiling didn’t help, so I stopped. If Lynn wanted to be a bitch, then so be it. I just hoped she could cut hair as well as she could give attitude. I settled toward the empty seat in front of her station and swiveled around so I could see in the mirror, presenting the back of my head to her. She returned with a cape, which she draped around me. She then proceeded to scour the back of my neck with the rough piece of the Velcro halves. My rumble of aggravation caused the slightest of smiles to form on her daintily-featured face.