Page 7 of His Southern Temptation

Lucky froze. The thought of what Teague would do to him if he found out he’d been all over Taylor made whatever was left of his arousal disappear. Good. At least he wasn’t in danger of doing anything really stupid. Like sleeping with his best friend’s little sister. Again.

That was the old Lucky. The Lucky who was reckless, always getting into a tough scrape and having to fast-talk his way out of it. The new Lucky was going to help his parents get out of debt, walk away from the trail of death he left behind him, and settle down with a great woman who wanted the same kind of future.

He glanced down at Taylor, her expression now wary with a touch of “what the hell did I almost do?” written all over it. Good. They just needed to give each other a wide berth and they’d both emerge from this encounter no worse for the wear.

Taylor shifted under him, turning her head to give the sheriff the smile that had won her at least two Junior Miss Virginia pageants. Sheriff Burke smiled back and lowered the gun completely as if she’d cast a spell on him. God help the poor man—he had no idea what he was up against.

“Sheriff, I’m so sorry to call you for a false alarm. You might remember me, I’m Mary-Taylor Elliott.” Her grin spread even wider and she added a little batting of the eyelashes to ensure neither of them would go to jail and have to face Teague this late at night. “I’m staying here for a little while and had no idea Lucky was here as well. We scared each other half to death.”

The meaning of her words sunk in and he ground his teeth with the effort to bite back a groan.

She was staying here? In the same house? Alone. With him.

He should have let her shoot him.

Chapter Three

Taylor wanted her gun back.

Glaring at Lucky’s back as he trudged up the stairs, duffel bag slung over his shoulder and her gun peeking out of his waistband, her brain whirled with all the reasons why shooting him would make her feel better. It was bad enough she was back in this podunk, backwater excuse for a town, but now she was stuck in this house with the man who made her lose her mind. And not always in the good way. Although he did that plenty.

Knowing he’d resent her scrutiny, she took the opportunity to check him out—same broad shoulders, long, lanky legs, and delectable ass. His hair was longer than his usual military cut, now lying in unruly waves on his head, the curls catching the light. Her fingers itched to tangle in the corn-silk blond strands and pull his mouth back to hers to finish what they’d started. But in spite of the scorching kiss downstairs less than an hour ago, Lucky was determined to act as if it hadn’t happened.

Once they’d managed to get Sheriff Burke out of the house without calling Teague and waking him, Lucky had confiscated her gun. He hadn’t asked her, hadn’t consulted her on whether she wanted to be unarmed in this big old house with multiple entrances and exits. Nope. All he’d done was empty out the bullets, place them in her hand, and stick the gun in the waistband of his jeans.

Curiosity forced the question out of her mouth. “Hey, why are you keeping my gun? You afraid I might still shoot you?”

“Nope, but I might want to shoot myself later,” he huffed out on a laugh that didn’t quite erase the tension in his voice or loosen the rigid set in his shoulders.

Drama queen.

She wasn’t surprised at his reaction, though. Things were always complicated between them. Timing. Teague. Her family. His family. His job and her great escape to the other side of the world had never put them in a place where they could settle it once and for all. They’d had fun together over the years, in and out of bed, but the last time had been different, and it had left a loose end that made her itchy.

Maybe now was the time. Fate. Karma. The Almighty. Whoever. Something had put them here to hash this out and get the hell over whatever was between them.

She was all for that plan.

She could lay Lucky—pun entirely intended—and a few other demons to rest before heading back to Hawaii and her future.

“So, where were you out so late at night? Hot date?”

He chuckled. “No. I was at the Jolly Gent trying to get a stripper to tell me about a missing girl. I’m working a case for Jack Cantrell and getting nowhere. Sarah Morgan has been missing for two weeks and I can’t find a trace of her.”

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