Page 9 of Someone to Tempt
“It wasn’t that bad,” I insist, but swallow back another groan. I’m not only not fun, now I’m going to have a reputation for making a fool of myself in public. Just what voters want from their mayor.
“Who was it?” Sloane asks, genuinely curious.
“Somebody I used to know.”
She holds up the front edge of the scarf. “You have to give the bald cancer patient all the details when she asks.”
I choke out a laugh then take a long sip of the sangria, hoping it will calm me. I don’t want to rehash my run-in with Jake, especially with Sloane. “Are you seriously going to use cancer as an arm-twisting tactic?”
“I’m absolutely using cancer.” She points to the empty seat across from her. “Its advantages are few and far between, but manipulation, coercion, and outright getting my way are perks that cannot be ignored.”
Molly, ever the peacemaker, leans over and hugs her. “So that you know, we’ll let you have your way even after you kick cancer’s ass.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. But right now, Madame Interim Mayor, spill those type-A guts.”
I lower myself into the chair next to Taylor Maxwell, local librarian and most reserved of our friend group. “It was Jake Byrne. He’s in town visiting his grandfather.”
Sloane’s full mouth thins. “Jake’s back?” She’s the only one who understands what this means to me—to my heart.
“A guy who loves his grandpa.” Avah taps her chest. “That gets me right in the feels. Bonus that he’s hot.”
“Why were you arguing and how do you know him?” Taylor asks quietly. “His name doesn’t ring a bell.”
Taylor, Sadie, and Avah are the three Skylark natives of our group. They might have heard of Jake—or the hot gossip that punctuated his short summer in Skylark—but his family used their influence and buckets of cash to quiet the potential scandal.
Except Jake wasn’t the only one involved that night, and the aftermath wrecked my brother’s life as surely as if a tornado had touched down in our midst.
“He and Nick were friends in high school,” I say, careful to keep any emotion out of my voice. “Today he was driving like an idiot and almost ran me over.”
“That’s not the whole story,” Sloane says, her voice almost a whisper.
This is why I don’t make friends. When people know you, particularly your weaknesses, they have the power to hurt you. Sloane would never—at least not on purpose—but Jake Byrne is another story.
I vowed to stop giving away my power a long time ago. And when I’ve mis-stepped on that promise to myself, it comes back to bite me. Every single time.
Still, I trust these women. So I take a deep breath, and with an encouraging nod from Sloane, try to explain the story of Jake and me without revealing the damage knowing him did to my heart.
“Jake came to stay with his grandpa for a few months right after Mom moved us to Skylark.”
“The summer before senior year of high school,” Sloane adds.
I nod. “He and my twin had a bromance from the jump. Two charming party boys looking for trouble.” I roll my shoulders when I feel them hiking up to my ears, then continue, “They found more than their share.”
Sadie reaches out and places her hand on my arm. “What kind of trouble?”
“It was stupid stuff. Breaking into the country club after hours to use the hot tub. Borrowing Jake’s grandfather’s Porsche to go joyriding on the two-lane highways outside of town.”
Avah scoffs. “I’m guessing they didn’t ask permission toborrowthe Porsche.”
I nod. “Correct.”
“Kids still race on those roads,” Molly says, “even though the sheriff’s office sets up regular speed traps out there. We can hear the engines on summer nights. Someone’s going to get killed.”
Since moving to Skylark with her twins after her husband’s death, Molly has lived with her mother-in-law on a small farm outside town. Her eyes widen as she makes the connection. “Oh, crap. Was itthatkind of accident?”
“No one was killed.” I grip the edge of the table like it can ground me. “They picked up a trio of college coeds in town for the rodeo. Lots of partying and even more alcohol. Someone had the brilliant idea to go drag racing after the barn dance ended.”
“Alcohol and good decisions are somewhat mutually exclusive,” Taylor murmurs.
