Page 3 of Tempting Me

Years ago, I would have fallen under a trance at the fact his ocean-blue eyes are focused on me and only me, but I'm not a silly teenager anymore who follows my brother and his best friend around the lake all summer.

No, I'm a grown woman who knows better.

Luca’s voice lowers as he says, “You know that’s not true.”

For a split second, I swear I hear emotion in his tone. Pleading. But then he steps back and points at me.

“You know this is wrong.”

I shake my head.

“I think you can go now.”

“Shay, think about it. I know this place. If you want it remodeled to be like it was—because hell, you and I both know this place was the best when we were kids—I'm the right man for the job. Let me help you.”

It takes everything in me not to smile or agree with him.

I’ve had all those same thoughts, but none of that changes our past.

My family would sell this place in a heartbeat if I hired Luca to bring it back to life.

He might be the right man for this job, but he lost that opportunity the day he betrayed my brother, my family, andme.

“Goodbye, Luca.”

He steps back, our eyes locked as he challenges me to change my mind.

I won’t.

I watch him walk away with a growl.

It’s easy.

I’ve been doing it my whole life.

CHAPTER ONE

SHAY - PRESENT DAY

“Wait, stop! Please!” I race after Brent, my contractor, as he stalks across The Marina’s parking lot in the direction of his truck. His jeans hang low, and the faster he walks, the farther they fall. His shirt is a size too small, which is why I can see how much his jeans are sagging, ready to show me something I really,reallydon’t want to see, but who cares about that right now? I need him to stop and listen to me.

“Go! Get on the road!” he yells at one of his employees who’s just sitting in his own truck with the window rolled down and his arm hanging out.

His employee taps the side of his truck and then peels out, the tires kicking up rocks and dust.

“Brent, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t?—”

“For the last year, I've listened to you nitpick everything I do and then proceed to tell me how you think I should do it differently. Blah, blah. It’s annoying.”

“Well, I am paying you to do it how I want it, but I understand?—”

“I’m done. Fucking done, lady. You can keep the material since you already paid for it, but as far as labor, you can do that shit yourself.”

Lady.What am I, fifty? I’m only thirty.

He yanks his truck door open, and I step up to it.

“Is this really how you want to conduct business? This is completely unprofessional.”

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