Tempt Me! Read online

  Tempt Me!

  Panty Dropper Series - Book Two

  Tracey Pedersen

  Tempt Me!

  Copyright © 2017 Tracey Pedersen

  All Rights Reserved

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying, scanning or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author. This includes transmission by email.

  Reviewers are permitted to quote brief passages for the purpose of reviewing only.

  Tempt Me! is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my beta readers. They are truly the greatest!

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Acknowledgment

  Where Can You Find Me?

  Chapter One

  The pretty woman with the blue hair waved her arms and shouted at a heavily tattooed man, right outside the cafe window. Each time she raised her arms her bright yellow skirt slipped up her thigh, revealing tanned skin and well-defined muscles. Each time the movement caught the attention of cafe owner, Chris Nash.

  He flicked his eyes back to his order pad as the customer in front of him kept talking. “Would that be suitable?” she purred, licking her lips as his eyes focussed on her again.

  What the fuck did she just say?

  He stared blankly at her, trying to guess at the words he hadn’t heard.

  “Chris, you’re such a daydreamer!” She ran her hand along his forearm with a laugh. “I said, you promised me a coffee date and I have Wednesday free. Would that be suitable?”

  “Oh, I work on Wednesday. In fact I work every day. I’m a seven day operation so I’ll have to take a rain check.” He stepped to the side and grabbed the silver handle to prepare the next coffee order. The cafe was bustling this Thursday morning and he had seven slips of paper already lined up with drink requests, and a small crowd forming off to the side of the counter. No time to stand here fending off random date requests.

  “That’s a shame. You should live a little. I’ll take a calendar with my coffee, please, since that looks like it’s as close as I’m going to get to the real thing.”

  He grinned at her, as relief washed over him. She was backing off—giving him an out—and he couldn’t be more grateful. If only the twenty women who came before her this week with similar offers to ‘make his day’ had been so forgiving. Who knew that posing in the community calendar would lead to such an increase in turnover for his small business? He’d had at least a quarter more people come through the door in the month since it was published. Mostly female customers, buying more than their fair share of morning coffee, with a side of hot-man-calendar.

  He’d sold five copies already this morning and it was only ten o’clock. Mimi Fletcher, the brains behind the community calendar, had promised to restock his supply on the weekend, but if too many more single ladies got their hands on it, he’d have trouble keeping up with the demand on the store.

  He frothed the milk for the coffee and glanced around. Four tables of customers were patiently waiting to place their breakfast orders and he had all these coffees to make for the takeaway crowd. Kenneth, his cook, was busy in the kitchen making the orders that had already been placed and several tables begged to be cleared of the debris left by previous customers.

  His eye twitched as he glanced at the dirty tables waiting to be cleared—a pet hate of his. Especially in his own cafe.

  Damn Tina for quitting without notice. That was a really shitty thing to do.

  Cursing his sister for leaving him in the lurch after acing her acting audition wouldn’t do him any good. She had every right to pursue her dream. He made a heart pattern in the frothy milk and expertly popped the lid into place. The till chimed and the drawer popped open as he made change for his admiring customer. As she left, calendar tucked under her arm, two more couples entered and chose a table.

  Goddamn it! Any second now, people will start to leave!

  ***

  Three coffees later and Chris knew he’d have to leave the rest and rush around and take orders. He’d almost completed an order for four lattes when the door swung open again. He shut his eyes for a second, wishing the day would speed past so he could go home and feel sorry for himself.

  Damn you, Tina.

  His eyes snapped open when a strong voice called through the door to the street, “No, Rodney. I really don’t need your help, as I’ve said a dozen times already. I don’t want your money—I don’t want anything from you. Now, please go home, I have a job to get to and you’ve already made me late!” The door banged shut and Chris watched in fascination as the blue-haired woman, with the best-defined thighs he’d ever seen, walked confidently toward the counter. She glanced around at the tables full of people as she did so and his eyes nearly popped out of his head as she leaned into the closest table and said, “Give me a moment, and I’ll be back to take your order.” The couple at the table smiled gratefully at her and Chris let his mouth hang open as his hands continued to automatically move the coffee pot and fill his orders.

  The woman, who he’d seen for the first time in his life just fifteen minutes ago, stepped behind the counter—his counter—and quickly washed her hands at the sink. She grabbed an apron that hung on the wall and tied it around her waist as she turned and looked over the counter area. She pulled a pen from the cup beside the register and took the pad where Chris had been writing his coffee orders. Without a single glance in his direction, she stepped back around the counter and apologised to the couple for their wait.

  “What can I get for you?” she asked, her friendly smile putting them immediately at ease.

  “We’d both like the omelette thanks. With gluten free bread. Plus two lattes and some water for the table.”

  “No problem. We’ll get that for you as fast as we can.” She moved to the next table and repeated the process as Chris cashed out the next customer and moved to the next coffee order.

  I should stop her. What is she doing taking orders when she doesn’t even know what we serve here? Scratch that. Why is she taking orders in my cafe when she doesn’t even work here!

  He looked out the window as movement caught his eye. The man she’d been talking to—Rodney, apparently—peered through the glass, shook his head and then stormed up the street. His enormous biceps didn’t show an inch of skin that wasn’t covered in tattoos. No cute tattoos or words like ‘mum’, either. The tattoos that Chris could see definitely belonged to a man who’d spent some time with bikers.

  He frowned as he cleared his coffee backlog and watched the woman, whose mix of blonde and blue hair should have seemed tacky, but didn’t, expertly serve his customers. She took each order with a smile and promised quick service and to check back with them. Water was served to each table and the dirty dishes that had irritate
d Chris earlier were cleared away and the tables wiped down. Without any acknowledgement of what she was doing, she twice enquired about ingredients for a customer order and relayed his answer to the respective tables.

  Chris could feel Kenneth’s eyes boring into his back each time the little bell in the kitchen rang, but he refused to turn around. Since his mystery helper had arrived they were back to running a smooth ship. There’d be time to grill her about her actions as soon as the rush was finished. She didn’t miss a beat each time the bell sounded; she went straight back to the kitchen, checked the dockets carefully and made sure the meals went to the right table. As breakfast turned into lunch, she even located the pepper grinder and began offering patrons pepper with their meals.

  Who the fuck is this woman?

  “Do you have a bathroom?” There she was, standing right next to him, her large brown eyes waiting for an answer.

  “Of course. Right around the side, just there.” He indicated the wall behind her, which blended to look like it didn’t lead to a passageway. “No one can ever see it the first time.”

  “Oh.” She glanced behind her and took off her apron. “Thanks.”

  Oh crap. Is she leaving? I need to find out what the hell has gone on here today!

  “You coming back?” His tone was harsher than he’d intended.

  “Yes, grumpy. I do need to go to the bathroom, though.” She frowned at him and slipped away, leaving him to feel guilty. When she returned, she tied the apron around her waist and scrubbed her hands with the antiseptic soap. Just like she had four hours ago when she’d first appeared.

  Four hours. I need to use the bathroom too.

  “Can you take care of the counter while I take a quick break?” He didn’t smile, just stepped back from the coffee machine and waited for her reply.

  “Of course. Haven’t I done that all morning?”

  He pursed his lips; a mean thought in the back of his mind whispering that he was leaving her unattended with the till. He turned to Kenneth who stood wide-eyed in the kitchen doorway. “Watch her. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Oh, nice. I help you out and now you think I’m going to help myself to something?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and Chris tried not to imagine the movement pulling up her yellow skirt again. “Let me see, what should I target first?” She tapped her chin. “Your hard-earned cash? Or maybe I’ll be overcome by temptation for one of these fancy-assed, overpriced, flourless chocolate muffins that your pretentious ass sells.”

  Chris frowned as he brushed past her. “Don’t lose your shit. I don’t even know you,” he muttered as he quickly headed for the long passageway where he could escape for a quiet minute to clear his thoughts.

  He splashed water on his face and leaned in to the tiny mirror in the spotlessly clean bathroom. “What the fuck, dude?” he said to his reflection. “Who is she?” Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the toilet and the basin. A few minutes later he washed his hands again and exited the bathroom, carrying the small garbage bag he’d emptied. A quick check of the ladies toilet showed that his mystery helper had already cleaned it, and emptied the bin. She’d even initialled the sheet of paper he kept on the wall. He strode to the back of the cafe and dumped the bag into the big bin, biting the inside of his mouth as it dawned on him what he was about to do.

  He was going to offer the sexy, efficient, confident woman with the blue hair a job.

  ***

  At four o’clock Chris turned the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and resisted the urge to press his forehead against the glass. Just for a second he wished he could lean there on the cool pane and take a breath. There was clean up to be done, though, and prep for tonight’s shift, which was only two hours away. Instead of resting, he turned back to the counter, striding over to where the mystery woman stood waiting for him. He’d pulled her aside around three o’clock when she was inexplicably still serving, and informed her she was not to leave without speaking to him.

  Kenneth glanced at them both. “Well I’m off. I don’t live two streets away to waste my two hour break trying to work out what this is.” He waved his hands back and forth between them. “Don’t miss me too much, and you,” he pointed at the woman with blue hair, “keep your hands off the fancy-ass flourless cakes!” He cackled as he headed out the back door and she rolled her eyes. Thursdays were the only day he worked back-to-back shifts. Every other day Chris had another staff member, Jeff, who did nights.

  The door clicked quietly as Kenneth let himself out and Chris found he had no idea what to say to the woman who had saved their bacon today. Without her, he had no doubt, he’d have been the proud owner of a few negative reviews on Trip Advisor and on his business Facebook page. Not what any business wanted.

  “Can we sit for a moment?” He indicated the nearest table and she slipped onto a seat without a word. “Thanks for your help today, though I’m quite confused about what happened.”

  “You’re welcome. There’s no mystery about what happened and I’m happy to tell you. Did you see the guy I was with outside?”

  Say no. Don’t let her think you were looking at them.

  “I did. Big guy, scary tattoos.”

  “That’s him. He’s my ex brother-in-law and he was throwing his weight around, trying to get me to come and work for his business.”

  “What business is he in?”

  “On the face of it, he is a tattoo artist—”

  “I’d never have guessed.” She grinned at his words, the action crinkling her eyes and lighting up her whole face.

  “No need to be a smart ass. To cut a long story very short, I think more goes on there than meets the eye and I want no part of it.” She watched his face as she gave her explanation. When she saw he wasn’t about to speak, she continued. “I pretended I had a job here so he’d leave me alone. I’m sorry, but it was all I could think of. Turns out you were short staffed anyway, so it helped us both.”

  “Why did you stay? After he left, you could have left too.”

  “I felt I kind of owed you. You didn’t out me to Rodney and I could see you were really busy. I decided to do you a good turn as a thank you.” She held out her hand, “I’m Becca, by the way. Becca James.”

  “Chris Nash.”

  Warm hands. Long fingers. Firm grip. Stop it, Chris!

  “Nice to meet you. Officially.” She grinned again, “I have to ask something and I know it’s weird.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on. “What is with the bloody calendar I heard women asking about all day? You sold all of them that were on the counter. Are there vouchers for free fancy food inside, or something?”

  Chris laughed at the confused look on her face. “No free food, they’re a community calendar that is being sold to raise money for a new local hall. The old one was damaged by fire.”

  “Okay,” she said, stretching the word out. “What are the pictures, though? I don’t think grown women would be getting as excited as these bitches were over pictures of fluffy kittens.”

  Bitches?

  “No, you’re right. The calendar has mostly-naked photos of some of the people from our area.”

  “Ahh,” she said, snapping her fingers over her head and pointing at him, “You’re in the calendar!”

  He laughed, “I am.”

  “Damn, and there’s none left for me to check out. If the reaction of these women today is anything to go by, it’s pretty special. Which month are you?”

  He blushed a deep red before he answered. “I’m November.”

  “Mr November,” she raised her eyebrows, as she laughed out loud, “That’s just too much.” She slapped her leg and leaned back in her chair, amusement lighting her eyes. “When do you restock? I want to see.”

  “I’m sure you don’t need to, but I’ll have more on the weekend.” He shook his head, trying to ignore her crossed legs right in front of him. Every time she moved today she’d made him think dirty thoughts. Dirty thoughts about a complete str
anger, no less. Time to change the subject to more safe territory. “Let’s talk about you for a minute. Where did you learn to waitress?”

  “I’ve worked in nightclubs on and off over the last few years. Plus, my mother ran a high-end restaurant when I was a teenager. I helped there all through school.”

  “That explains the pepper,” he said, almost to himself. His fingers tapped the table at the news that she had actual experience, and hadn’t bluffed her way through today’s shift. “Do you need a job?”

  “I don’t need anything. I was just getting away from Rodney.” She narrowed her eyes and he watched pride blaze across her face.

  Interesting.

  “I’m not offering you charity or anything. My sister quit her waitressing job with me last night and gave me no notice. So I have a vacancy. If you would like a job,” he raised an eyebrow as her face softened, “I’d be thrilled to have you work here. You did an excellent job today.”

  You can’t wear short skirts though. I won’t get a minute of peace.

  All malice slipped from her features at his compliment. Her brown eyes watched him and a faint stirring in his jeans signified the end to all thoughts of her in her short skirt. He turned his thoughts to the hours of work he needed to complete before he reopened the doors at six o’clock—work thoughts never failed to keep him on track and dampen all thoughts of passion. Or fun. He had a lot of money invested in this place.

  “Listen, you don’t have to give me an answer right now, but I have a lot to do before I open for dinner, so I’m going to have to cut this short. How about I get you a card and you can call and let me know your decision?”

  “Right,” she said, as he dug around in a drawer and handed her a business card. “How much are you paying?”

  “I pay the award rate plus twenty percent.”

  “That’s pretty decent.”

  “It’s hard work. We’re always busy, like today. Sometimes busier. You’ll often have to take your break at a weird time.”