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Authors: Kelley St. John

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BOOK: Flirting With Temptation
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Babette stopped at her door, turned. “That brunette.”

He leaned against the wall by her door, folded his arms at his chest. Babette remembered that chest, and the fact that his nipples were about two shades darker than the remainder of his beautifully tanned body, and she vividly recalled the way she’d flicked her tongue across them, bit them, kissed them.

“The one you called Perky?” he asked, and she blinked back to the here and now.

She nodded.
Did you sleep with her tonight?
“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Kylie Banks.”

“How did the two of you—” She didn’t finish the question, because he moved closer, much, much closer.

“How did the two of us—what, Babette?” He ran a finger across her lower lip, slowly, so that her tongue longed to ease out and lick it, to taste him again, just a little.

She had to focus, to force the right words to come out, instead of the ones that were inching their way forward—
Love me, just once, before you go.
Delicious heated waves rippled through her, pushing downward, to the spot that wanted to feel him most. Then she thought about Kitty, and the fact that he’d asked her to be his wife. She eased away from the tempting finger. “I was curious about how you met, but you can tell me tomorrow, when we talk. Goodnight, Jeff. And I do need to talk to you tomorrow, about Kitty.”

He nodded. “Okay, Babette. Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow, and you’ll see that you’re wasting your time on this particular love doctor gig.”

“We’ll see.” She slid her key into the lock and thanked heaven above that she had held it together enough to keep from begging him to stay. A hot shower would be so nice right now.
You wash the sand off me; I’ll wash the sand off you
. . .

He took a step away, then turned, holding up that amazing finger as though he’d forgotten something. “One thing that we need to discuss tomorrow, since we’re going to be talking and all.”

“What’s that?”

“Why you were at that cove tonight.”

“I told you,” she started, but he shook his head.

“No, I don’t think you did. But you will.”

Chapter 9

C
an I speak to Rowdy Slidell, please?” Babette asked. She’d made twenty-two calls already this morning and had consequently struck twenty-two more names off her list. She’d been out at the pool for two hours and making calls the entire time, but no one had provided any helpful information regarding locating Rowdy. And Granny was getting impatient. She’d left six messages last night and then woke Babette with another phone call this morning wondering if she’d gotten in touch with him. The only person calling Babette more than her grandmother was Kitty, who’d left nine messages last night and had called twice today.

“Did you say Rowdy?” the voice on the other end asked, and Babette sat up on her lounger.

“Yes. Is he there? Can I speak to him?”

“No, he’s not here. You’ve dialed his grandson, but I can give you his number.”

Babette dashed her hand inside her beach bag and scrounged around for her pen. Then she realized she didn’t have any paper and stole the napkin from beneath another woman’s glass on a nearby table. “Yes, I’d like that please.”

The guy recited the phone number, and Babette quickly wrote it down.

“Um, could you give me his address too? An old school friend of his is interested in visiting him.” She’d decided not to give too many specifics about her grandmother, in case Granny Gert didn’t want him to know she was on her way.

Rowdy’s grandson gave her the address, and Babette jotted it down too, then thanked him for his time.

“Hallelujah,” she said, closing her phone. She finally had Granny’s information. At least she could help one person hook up with someone this week, since Jeff was going to take a little longer.

Rose’s white hair shone as she climbed the steps to the White Sands deck and made a beeline toward Babette.

Babette had already flipped her cell phone back open to call Granny, but Rose was walking as though whatever she had to say was important, so Babette snapped it shut. She’d call Granny as soon as she figured out what was going on with Rose.

As usual, Rose had a bejeweled comb holding back her soft hair, though only one side was held back today, and the tiny pink seashells and rhinestones on today’s comb matched the pink flowers in her dress. Today’s shawl was mint green, rather than the white one she’d worn the past couple of days, and had a fringed edging. The pale green picked up the exact hue of the leaves and vines connecting the flowers on her dress. She was also wearing white shoes that didn’t look quite as therapeutic as the black ones she traditionally wore, and her knee highs matched.

“You look very pretty,” Babette said, as Rose sat on the lounger next to hers.

“Thanks, and where are your sunglasses? Surely you’ve got some in that monster bag of yours.” She picked up Babette’s huge striped beach tote and rummaged through it, then withdrew the new sunglasses Babette had bought at TJ Maxx. “Put these on. You’re hurting me with your squint.”

“I couldn’t see the numbers on my cell phone when I was wearing them,” Babette explained, sliding the glasses on.

“How are you, Jonlyn?” Rose asked the woman on the next lounger.

Jonlyn smiled. “I’m fine, Rose. How are you?”

“I’m breathing. For me, that’s progress.”

Babette laughed, enjoying watching Rose in her element. Elderly or not, she was a breath of fresh air at both Sunny Beaches and White Sands, and she was apparently on a first-name basis with the residents at both.

Jonlyn also laughed at the older lady. “You didn’t want to lay out with us today? This is great sun.”

“I’m protecting my skin from wrinkles, you know, for when I get old.”

Babette and Jonlyn both grinned at that. Then Jonlyn stood, stretched and took the few steps necessary to get to the pool and dive in. Her splash sprayed Rose’s back, and Rose promptly turned and snarled at her. “Jonlyn, if I wanted to get wet, I’d have worn a suit,” she said.

Babette nodded toward Rose’s carefully coordinated ensemble. “You look like you want to get noticed. That’s what you look like. And by the way, your nails look very nice too.” Her fingernails were painted a pale, shimmering pink. It wasn’t anywhere near as flamboyant a color as Granny Gert would wear, but it truly suited Rose.

“Thank you,” she said, holding one hand out and letting the soft pink catch the light.

“Any reason you’re so dressed up?” Babette asked, assuming that’s why Rose had come over for this impromptu visit.

Rose’s bottom lip curled in as she bit back a smile.

“Rose?”

“You remember Otis Payne?”

Babette nodded, clearly picturing the elderly gentleman who always wore a smile and who still played in the ocean every now and then, whenever his knees let him, or so he’d say.

“Well, Otis mentioned that maybe the two of us would take in the movie today. They show one in the rec room every Saturday at two, you know.”

“So you have a date.” Babette nodded her approval.

“I suppose it is a date, and it’s kind of funny that he asked me today.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because after you told me about how people pay you to help fix them up, the way the poodle is doing, I decided to see if I could hire you to, you know, give Otis a nudge.” She shrugged, smiled. “But he finally came around on his own.”

“I’m glad. Let me know how the movie goes.”

“I will. And I also wanted to tell you that I told some of the other girls at Sunny Beaches about you being a love doctor.”

“You told the other girls?” Babette asked, thinking it adorable that Rose called her friends, the youngest of whom was over seventy, “girls.”

“Yes, and I think I’ve stirred you up some clients.”

“Clients?”

“Oh, don’t worry. They’ll pay you. Loads of retirement money over there, you know.”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Babette said. “But I’m really not looking for more clients down here. After I get Jeff back with Kitty, I’m going home.”

Rose’s disappointment was more apparent than any she’d ever seen. Her shoulders dropped, mouth eased downward, eyes blinked several times, fighting tears. “I understand.”

“But I’d be happy to talk to them and do what I can to mend their fences while I’m here.”

Rose’s disposition did a one-eighty, and she beamed. “Wonderful! I’ll talk to them to see when they want to get started. Now, about your other case,” Rose said, “Why aren’t you with Jeff? Today’s going to be your best day to talk to him, and if you wait until tonight, that’ll be too late. He’s never alone on a Saturday night.”

Rose’s statement bothered Babette, but she smiled past it. “Oddly enough, he was gone when I got up. I called his condo, and then I even went up there and knocked on his door. But he’d headed out.”

Rose shook her head. “How are you ever going to talk to him about the poodle if you can’t catch him at home?”

“Oh, I talked to him last night.” Talked . . . and then some.

“About the poodle?”

“A bit.” A very little bit. “But he knew I wanted to chat with him more today, and he left.”

“Running from you?”

“So it seems.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Jeff Eubanks I know,” Rose said.

“Well, I’ll talk to him today, whether he likes it or not. Wait and see.” She had to talk to him today, somehow. Kitty was driving her crazy with the nonstop calling, and she needed to give the woman something that she could hold onto, at least enough to keep her from calling every hour on the hour. And this morning, Kitty had even suggested that perhaps she should drive down so Jeff could see her and remember how good they were together.

Uh, no
. That’s all Babette needed, Kitty reminding him what a stalker she could be. How Jeff ever got hooked on a clingy one in the first place still befuddled her mind.

“Well, if he’s working, or outright ignoring you, you may be out here a while,” Rose said, once again picking up Babette’s bag and helping herself to everything inside. This time, she found an apple Jolly Rancher, unwrapped it and popped it in her mouth, then continued searching. Apparently, candy wasn’t the main goal. Eventually, she withdrew a blue bottle of sunscreen. “Aha, here it is,” she said, reading the SPF number on the side. “Good. Put this on. You’ll cook if you don’t.”

“You’re right,” Babette said, accepting the bottle, then lathering up with it. Redheads didn’t fare well in the sun without sunscreen, and she hadn’t put any on this morning before hitting the poolside. Normally, that would’ve been an automatic occurrence, but she attributed that oversight to her eagerness to start her day by the pool. “Thanks.”

“Alrighty, well, it’s getting close to movie time,” Rose said, standing. “How do I look?”

“It’s nearly two already?” She hadn’t realized how long it’d taken to make all of those calls. “I haven’t even eaten.”

“All day? Have mercy. I’ll go get you something,” Rose said.

“I’ll get her something,” a deep, very nice voice said from behind Rose.

Both of them turned toward the voice, and a dark-haired, tanned, buff, beautiful, bold and intoxicating man smiled back.

“Oooh, hello, Chris,” Rose gushed.

“Hey.”

Babette recognized him. He was the beach lifeguard, or he usually was. Right now, he had on regular swim trunks instead of the usual red ones with the white cross on one leg. She twisted to look at the lifeguard stand on the beach, and found it occupied by a female in a red suit.

“Today’s my day off,” he acknowledged, apparently impressed that she recognized him.

Well of course she recognized him, what woman wouldn’t remember
him
? He was right pleasing on the eyes, as Granny Gert would say. And speaking of Granny . . .

“I need to call my grandmother,” Babette said, and the hottie lifeguard grinned.

“I’m assuming that calling her doesn’t preclude you from requiring food?”

“Oh, no,” Babette said, while Rose laughed softly.

“They make a mean turkey and bacon sandwich.” He indicated the pool snack bar, and Babette nodded.

“That does sound good.”

“Nice to see you, Rose,” he said, then moved toward the snack bar, while Babette widened her eyes at Rose.

“You know him? I mean, more than merely gawking at him when he’s on his lifeguard stand?”

“Everyone knows Chris. Chris Langley is the best-looking lifeguard on the entire beach, and he’s ours,” she said with pride. “I’d go after that one, if I were you, if you aren’t going to get back with Jeff.”

“I’m not,” Babette said, and thought she sounded convincing. She watched as a group of teens sauntered up the steps from the beach and washed the sand from their feet to prepare for heading indoors. Memories of her own sandy feet, and Jeff’s hands rubbing all over them, sent a swift flutter of desire through her. Then there was the way he’d picked the seashell that she’d wanted, and the way he’d pressed his finger to her mouth. . . .

She shook off the memory. Letting anything physical happen with him would jeopardize her chance of getting him back with Kitty and sending her business soaring. And for what? To be yet another notch on his current over-notched bedpost?

No. Sure, she had a lot of sexual tension and blatant sexual needs that had been brought to the surface by their little interaction last night, but she didn’t have to fill that need with Jeff.

“You going to call your Granny?” Rose asked.

“Yes,” Babette said, realizing she still held the phone in her hand.

“Well, I’ll leave and let you call her before Chris comes back. Let me know what happens with him, and whether you get to talk to Jeff before the day’s over. I’ll keep you posted on how the movie goes.” She waved at the lifeguard as she left the lounger and headed back toward Sunny Beaches.

Babette quickly dialed Granny Gert and gave her Rowdy’s information. Apparently Granny was excited, because she hurriedly repeated it, then told Babette she was “on it” and hung up. Knowing her grandmother, she might pull up the directions to Rowdy’s house on Mapquest and head on down there. Babette definitely got her feisty spirit honestly.

Speaking of feisty, Chris Langley was apparently attracted to feist. He continued glancing at Babette throughout placing the order, and each time he gave her a smile that’d melt butter.

BOOK: Flirting With Temptation
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