Page 4 of Playing With Temptation

“Finish up so you can get some carrot cake.”

My attempt to move the conversation from Bob to something that wouldn’t potentially scar my son for life was thwarted by my dog-with-a-bone mother.

“You didn’t tell me about him.”

Holy horseradish!

“Mom, please drop it,” I groaned.

My mom took me in, and I knew by the way her expression gentled she wrongly assumed I wanted a topic change because Lucas had mentioned Zoe.

It wasn’t that I didn’t miss my best friend every second of every day, because I did. The hole she left in my heart the day she died would never again be filled. But right then, I was more concerned about my mother and son discussing my vibrator—thankfully neither of them understood that’s what they were talking about.

“I’ve got ice cream to go with that carrot cake,” she told Lucas, but her sad smile was aimed my way.

“Righteous!” Lucas said around a mouthful of pasta.

Righteous.

My kid was funny and I knew my mom was thinking about Zoe and the tragic end to her beautiful life when she didn’t correct Lucas for talking with his mouth full.

That was my mom—caring, compassionate, a good listener, hardworking, and she could be funny.

This was what I was giving Lucas.

This was what we needed.

I was not fleeing.

I was coming home.

CHAPTER TWO

“Beer or bourbon, Detective Turner?” Chelsea Kessler asked from behind the bar.

“On call, Chels, just water.”

“You’re lucky we’re not one of those bars where when a patron orders a water, we turn the gun on them.” She smiled. “Though I’m sure every female in the place would be down for some hot-cop, wet t-shirt action.”

“I’m thinking your husband would have an issue with that.”

Issue was an understatement. Matt Kessler came across as laid back, but the former SEAL turned private security contractor slash bar owner was anything but. He was also rich as sin, and not because Balls Deep turned over a good profit. He was born into money. The kind of money that came with trust funds the feds couldn’t touch when his father went down for shady dealings with the mob. Generational wealth. Yet, Matt left that life behind to join the Navy, choosing honor and service over the almighty dollar.

Chelsea sat my water on the bar in front of me, and her smile turned into something that looked a lot like mischief mixed with determination. A smile that was wholly uncomfortable, seeing as she was attractive, very married to my friend, and the smile only added to her beauty.

“I’m not a fan of whatever mayhem you’re planning,” I noted.

“Who? Me?” Chelsea drawled.

“Yes. You,” I unnecessarily confirmed.

“Before you say no, just hear me out,” she wheedled.

“That’s never a good start.” My partner, Ethan Lenox, rightly pointed out as he slid onto the stool beside me.

Chelsea tossed Ethan a scathing look before she told him, “You know I’m good with ropes, right? And I’m sure Matt has some duct tape around here somewhere.”

Before injury forced Chelsea to hang up her cowgirl hat, she was a champion bull rider. I’d never watched her ride in person, but I’d seen the video of her last ride. The woman was tough as fuck, not to mention brave. I wouldn’t be caught dead on the back of a two-thousand-pound animal who didn’t want me there and was doing its best to buck me off.