Page 31 of Resisting Temptation

As my name is called, I walk confidently onto the stage to join Beckett and answer the questions of the townspeople. We are met with eager anticipation. It’s just like a post-match press conference. Local reporters are seated in the front row, with cameras lined up to the side. There’s a mix of familiar faces from around town, local business owners, and some people I haven’t met.

I confidently outline my qualifications, plans, and dedication to inclusivity and transparency, resonating with the audience by balancing passion andpragmatism. I reflect on how my roots are intertwined with this town after spending my childhood here. Meanwhile, Beckett self-assuredly expresses his vision for the town’s future, emphasizing collaboration and unity, drawing from his vast experience. We both captivate the audience’s imagination, inspiring hope and earning nods of approval as we commit to leading the town toward a better future.

It’s surprising how accepting they are of him. It seems like this might be more challenging than I initially anticipated. But I’m grateful I didn’t have to answer any hard questions about my father. I’m certain it’s on its way—Beckett won’t permit me to evade answering. But for today at least, I have dodged that bullet.

I rejoin Margo and Emerson on the side of the stage. “You did well,” Margo compliments me with a reassuring smile. “I have a few pointers for next time, but you’re a natural at public speaking.”

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the sudden weight of what I’m up against. I can’t fuck this up, it’s too important. I can’t let him win. Not with the power his family already has over this town. “Yeah, so did Beckett.”

“We all know he’s full of shit,” Emerson snips. “No one believes his lies.”

Margo’s hand comes to my elbow. “Come on, we have some individual press interviews lined up. I also want to grab a couple of head shots we can use for our social media campaign. And I thought the grounds here at The Alexander would be perfect.”

“I’ll have to leave you both to it. But the room is ready for your meetings when you need it.”

“Thanks, Em,” I say, appreciating her help on this. Our entire friendship group is backing me, except for Paisley.

“You did well, Noah. I’m so proud of you.” She smiles sweetly, before hurrying off in the direction of the hotel.

As Margo and I round the corner, we nearly collide with Beckett and Paisley, talking closely, way too closely for my liking. Beckett’s eyes meet mine with a sinister smirk that taunts me.

“Harrington,” he mutters, his voice carrying a subtle challenge. He knows he’s getting under my skin.

“Prescott,” I reply, an underlying edge to my tone. “Paisley,” her name slips effortlessly from my lips, carrying with it a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely. I can sense her suspicion as she eyes Margo, so I take the opportunity to introduce them. Anything to keep her here with me for longer. And if she’s a little jealous of the woman I’m spending time with then good, that might just help my cause.

“Have you met Margo Parish from the mayor’s office?” I smile at Paisley warmly, with a little challenge in my raised brow.

Politely, Paisley extends her hand, the gesture accompanied by a smile that seems a tad too forced. “I’m Paisley Whittaker, Beckett’s campaign manager,” she introduces herself, though her discomfort is obvious. She doesn’t like Margo. Is she jealous? I hope she feels the same jealousy toward Margo as I do toward Beckett. The sight of the two of them together ignites a spark of irritation deep within me, a reminder of the simmering protectiveness I feel whenever Paisley interacts with another man. Especially Beckett.I can’t stand the man, and her supporting him feels like a bitter betrayal. If it was really money she needed, I could have fixed all her problems easily, I would have been happy to. But this is something else. She wants to get at me.

Margo reciprocates the handshake with practiced grace, her own smile unwavering. “Nice to meet you, Paisley,” she says, her tone polite but tinged with an underlying coolness. Then she turns her attention to Beckett, extending her hand in his direction.

Beckett’s gaze lingers on Margo for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he finally shakes her hand. Paisley shifts uncomfortably beside him, her unease becoming more apparent by the second. She loses her cold edge toward me when others are around, and her anxiety is more obvious.

Margo’s hand returns to my back, a subtle signal that it is time to move on. I’m not sure Margo’s aware of what she’s doing, but the flare of Paisley’s eyes makes it extremely obvious she is in fact jealous. A little hope ignites within me. She’s not over me at all. “Sorry we can’t stay and chat,” she apologizes smoothly, her words laced with an air of formality. “We have photographers waiting for us. You understand how it is.”

“Sure do,” Paisley agrees. Beckett wraps an arm around her shoulders, and my body stiffens. The two of them are way too close already.

“Got places to be ourselves, don’t we, Paisley, kitten.” He sneers in my direction, and I can tell he’s trying to bait me. What the fuck is that nickname for her.

I take a deep breath, trying to control the anger simmering below the surface. My focus stays on Paisley so I don’t lose it. She stares back at me, searching my face for something, then shakes her head. Shrugging out of Beckett’s grip on her, she turns and walks away. He follows her, catching up by her side. I can’t stop watching her. The way her ass sways in her tight dress is a fucking dick tease. But it’s the way she looked at me just now that has my stomach twisted up in knots. What was that look? I’m not sure what’s going on with her and Beckett, but I intend to find out. If he is anything like his father, then she could be in real trouble. It’s why Parker’s organized someone to watch over her while Beckett’s around. We can’t be too careful, especially since she wouldn’t hear our warnings.

Chapter 19

Paisley

As we walk away, Beckett bows his head toward me. “Noah Harrington has a massive hard-on for you.” He chuckles.

“What? You can’t say stuff like that, Beckett.” I fix a piercing stare on him. Did his mother fail to teach him proper public etiquette?

Not bothered by my response, he smirks playfully. “He does. If you look back now, I can bet you he’ll be watching you walk away.”

As we round the corner, I steal a glance over my shoulder, and Noah’s eyes are locked onto me. The look in his eyes scares me. I know Beckett’s right. He smiles, all charming and way too cocky for a man who knows I can’t stand him, and I quickly glance away, my heart beating faster than I want it to. Oh God, what the hell am I supposed to do about this? He made it blatantly clear the other day that he wants me back. Even went so far asto say I’m his. But I’m not. And I’m not letting him ruin this opportunity for me.

Beckett’s grin is as smug as shit. Annoyance creeps beneath my skin. “Told you. He wants you bad.”

“Maybe,” I huff, annoyed, something doesn’t sit right with me about all of this. I watch Beckett as we walk, curious about what he knows. I’ve spent a lot of time with him the last couple of days, working out what he was going to say today. And I know he’s not all that perceptive. He’s too busy thinking about himself or checking out his own reflection in whatever shiny surface is close to be paying that much attention to what’s going on around him. He didn’t just pick up on this just now. He was trying to play at it on the weekend, attempting to provoke Noah’s jealousy at the restaurant as well. “Beckett, what do you know?” I whine, not needing some other issue to deal with at the moment.

He gives me a considering smile. “Nothing.” He shrugs it off.

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