Page 47 of Resisting Temptation

“Mr. Harrington. Pay attention to your footing. You’re walking down a dangerous road, one your father would tell you leads to great pain. I would get out now if you knew what was good for you,” the old man says cryptically.

“Who are you?” I demand. This is the same guy from the cemetery.

“Justin Lockwood, look me up and you will see I know what I’m talking about. You need to get out now. Walkaway while you still can.” He turns to look in Paisley’s direction. “Her old man was the least of your worries. He was just following orders. You’re going up against the big guy.” He turns and hurries off through the crowd. I try to go after him, but he disappears, leaving unease to creep in.

I knew the doc wasn’t the only one involved. Parker’s researching all possible leads, but so far, nothing. And the doc won’t spill his guts. He’s going to go down and let whoever was calling the shots off free, just like my father did. The thing I don’t understand is why my father let it happen. He had all the evidence to save himself, but he kept it all locked away. So, either he did try to save himself and the evidence was never used or he was too scared of who was really calling the shots to get in their way. The Prescotts have a lot to answer for, and I know they’re the ones behind all the shit that has taken place in our sleepy town over the years.

My line of sight travels back to the side of the building where Paisley is now, huddled up with Prescott. Tension coils up inside of me, causing my hands to ball into fists. He needs to back the fuck off if he knows what’s good for him. Paisley’s my girl, and he has no right to touch her.

Chapter 27

Paisley

Deception Bay is bathed in a golden glow as the sun peeks through the clouds and warms the town square. Checkered tablecloths in white and navy blue decorate the tables, while bunting hangs from the gazebo. After two cups of coffee, Beckett’s a little cheerier than when he picked me up this morning. Maybe breakfast was a bad idea for him. I hadn’t considered he might not be a morning person. But neither am I today.

Beckett leans in casually. “What’s eating you this morning?” he asks so only I can hear him. We have a group of patiently waiting patrons anticipating our promised breakfast. And right now, we need to get on this town’s good side, after my father tried to involve himself in our campaign then got arrested.

“Nothing,” I mutter, keeping the bright smile on my face needed for this job. I’m on the verge of crying. My dream is slipping through my fingers. But today’s not about me. I mustpretend I’m just peachy, because Beckett’s campaign needs a boost. Rumor has it Noah has already taken the lead. This town just adores him, and my father’s antics yesterday have caused a dent in our campaign, on top of years of damage Beckett’s father did running Prescott Media. When I took on this job, I hadn’t realized just how much damage was already done to his reputation. He was right, he really did need help with it. I just wish the town could see the real him, the man he’s shown me. Sure, he can be a little conceited, and he likes to flaunt his wealth, but deep down, I know there is more to him and he loves this town.

My breakfast idea does seem to be doing the trick, though. Volunteers busy themselves, serving up steaming plates of pancakes to excited townsfolk, who take their time to chat with Beckett about his ideas for the town. And while his reputation isn’t amazing, he does have an undeniable charm about him. He has the ability to negotiate his way out of just about anything the townspeople throw his way. He’s also trying to be more relatable after our chat last night.

“Come on, kitten, I think you could say we have become well acquainted over the last few weeks. I know when you’re not yourself. Something has you all twisted up today. Are you still hurting after what happened with your father yesterday?” He raises a brow. “Is it Noah? We can use it against him if it is.” He chuckles, trying his best to pull me out of my terrible mood any way he can.

“It’s not Noah.” I sigh, so tired from our current situation. I mean, the man is doing his best to show his face everywhere I am. He’s driving me crazy. I know this town is small and he’s living next to me, but for fuck’s sake, how is he everywhere I am? Seriously. If I’m grocery shopping, he’s one aisle over. If I stop into the Bay Roaster’s for a coffee, he’s right behind me in the line. Every time I step out my front porch, he’s there. WhenI go to bed at night, he’s watching me through his window. Most nights he messages me, just to say good night. If I wasn’t so annoyed with him, it would be endearing. But I am. He might have tricked me into spending the night with him, but a couple of steamy nights won’t change my mind. I can’t trust him. He broke my heart, and he knows where I stand, yet he still hasn’t stopped. This town really isn’t big enough for the both of us. I’m also dying to know what happened between him and my daddy yesterday to end in an arrest. But I’m too proud to ask him.

I hand over another plate to an adorable little girl with blonde, curly pigtails. She smiles at me like it’s Christmas and I’m Santa then scurries off to enjoy her sweet treat. She was the last in line. “The bank won’t give me the loan I need to buy Wild Magnolia,” I admit, not able to keep the tension all bottled up any longer.

Beckett looks back at me with a confused expression as he wipes maple syrup from his hands with a paper serviette. “Why not?”

“The collateral offered in support of the loan may not sufficiently mitigate the associated risks from our perspective.” I roll my eyes as I recite the line printed on the email. I didn’t sleep last night, just seeing it over and over, knowing my dream was about to disappear. “In other words, they don’t believe I will be able to make a go of it.”

He assesses me thoughtfully, not giving anything away. “They’re just saying that you might need to put a little more of your own cash in.”

“Well, that’s just fine and dandy, but I don’t have any more or any way of getting it. And I’ve run out of time to start up an Only Fans account. My boss needed an answer by today. It’s only a couple of weeks till they move to Dallas.”

He smiles at me, all charming Beckett, the smile he normally saves when he’s trying to charm a pretty girl or the public. “Chin up. I know you're going to make a real go of this. I’d be happyto spot you the difference. Besides, I can’t have my campaign manager causing a frenzy on Only Fans. Wouldn’t help my cause, even if it would be hot.”

I take a step back, so surprised by his offer. For all his dick moves, he also can be kind of sweet occasionally. “Beckett, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“I know we got off to a rocky start, Paisley, but despite what you might think, I believe in you. You’re helping me with my dream. I want to help you with yours. How much do you need?” he asks like it’s no big deal.

Oh, shit, he’s serious about this. “I have no idea. Stella’s asking $150,000, but who knows how much the bank needs.”

He pulls me around the corner of a building with him, takes a check book from his suit pocket, and scribbles on it. “Don’t worry about the bank. Go give this to your boss, and we can have a contract drawn up so you can pay me back.”

I glance at the check; it’s for the entire amount. “No, Beckett, there is no way in hell I can borrow all this from you,” I mutter in shock.

He raises a brow. “Do you want the flower shop or not?”

My heart hammers out of control at the thought of it being mine. I know this is what I should be doing with my future. It’s like I can see in the crystal ball clearly now, that’s why the thought of me missing out hurts so much. “Yes, more than anything.”

“Then go get it. I’ll have my lawyers draw up a contract at a fair interest rate, and we can go from there.”

I stare back at him in total disbelief. This could be the stupidest thing I have ever done, but what have I really got to lose? It’s a business deal, he’s a businessman. It makes sense. “Why are you helping me?”

“I’m not all bad, Paisley. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do want to help this town. And I think you will make a good business owner. My father has helped many businesses make a start over the years; you can be the first one I’ve helped.”

“Thank you.” I smile at him, so grateful. “You know I was joking about the Only Fans thing, I wouldn’t really do anything like that. I mean, I’m sure it will be Mrs. Rashford’s new rumor, but if you hear it, it’s not true.”

---