Page 11 of Tempted

He levels with me. “What about comfort sex?”

“Why does it always have to be about sex?”

“You don’t want to have sex with her?”

I’m growing frustrated. “I’m attracted to her, yes, but I don’t want to just sleep with her and be done with it. I don’t know why that’s so difficult a concept for everyone.”

He raises a hand again. “Wait…are you saying that you…like her? Like, for more than just a fuck? Because I totally get that, man.”

“Good. You finally caught up with me.”

“So, why are you so torn up about it?”

“Because she’s fucking around with my head. She’s making me feel like she wants me to want her and then when I make a move she calls me an asshole. Or a pussy for not fucking her. She dangles the carrot in my face and then takes it away.”

“Maybe this is about more than just you, Malcolm. Maybe because of her granny, she doesn’t know what she wants. But what she thinks she wants is a fall guy.”

“Yeah, well, dead granny or not, I’m not stooping down to that level.”

He ignores my statement. “Don’t forget, too, that her Uncle is in prison. Jesus, her life sounds like a goddamn soap opera.”

“Exactly.”

He rises. “Okay, dude. I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll see you in a few.”

“Thanks, man.”

I watch Ethan leave and as much as I try to focus on my meeting notes, I find myself looking at my phone again. No more messages, but that last one…that sure left an impression.

Steph

The second that I send the naughty picture, I regret it. I don’t know what’s come over me. I can still feel his body pressed up against mine. And that package of his? It was soft but Jeeeeeesus! What a treat! But something came over me the moment that he turned me on. I can’t even think about it right now, since I’ve just pulled up to the funeral home, having let the guilt set in from Moira. Her mama flew in from Scotland, and that in itself is a shit show. Moira hasn’t seen her mama in decades. She left when James divorced her and that was the last Moira has seen of her.

Kay McTavish, from what we know, met a man with money. A plastic surgeon. And it’s rather obvious when I see her that that theory is entirely true. Her lips look like a duck’s bill and her eyes are so pulled back she looks like the Cheshire Cat. It’s a strange combination. And yet she doesn’t flinch when she sees my reaction to her appearance. Or perhaps she doesn’t have the ability to.

For someone who hasn’t seen their mama in decades, Kay is going off like she and Leery were as thick as thieves. Moira gives me a grateful look when she sees me approach her and her mama. It’s like she needed an escape since Kay is blubbering good old crocodile tears. “Auntie Kay, how are you?” I ask like we’re old friends.

“Oh, Stephanie! I’ve been better! I’m so jet lagged and the flight was so long!”

“I bet it was. When was the last time you were on a plane?” This is where she starts telling me all about the numerous trips that she’s made with her rich boyfriend and suddenly it’s like ‘mama who?’ The tears dry right up, and I watch Moira go off with the funeral director to make the arrangements. So, I stand there with this woman I haven’t seen since middle school and get updated on all the cars they’ve bought, the houses, and otherwise all the ways that she’s helped to sop up all this poor man’s money.

When Moira finally reappears, she informs us that the funeral will be tomorrow, so that Kay can head back to Scotland. I can tell by her face that she wants to add more but she’s holding back. Likely something to do with her mama flying here to stand with me and brag about her life, meanwhile Moira is making her granny’s funeral arrangements alone.

“Where are you staying, mama?” Moira asks, pasting on a kind face.

“Oh, at the Hilton, dear. You know me with staying at other people’s places.”

I feel like asking if it’s because there’s no room service or around the clock concierge there, but I don’t.

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then? Do you need a ride over?” Moira offers.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. I’ve got a limousine waiting outside.” She waves. And I can’t help but wonder what her real motivation is for being here. First, her ex-husband is in the slammer, her son is responsible for the death of his granny, and all her other children are nothing to be proud of. They’re either in support of their jailbird da or still trying to figure out ways to skulk their way through life. Moira is the only one that made it. And that’s truly because she distanced herself from them all.

Moira and I see her mama off and head to the nearest coffee shop. “You don’t have any appointments this morning?” I ask her.

“Not for another hour. I had Shana push them all for a couple of hours so that I could get this done. What about you?”

“I’ve got a meeting with Colton Ford again. But it’s when I’m finished here.”

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