Tempting Tim: A Small Town Friends to Lovers Romance (Billingsley Book 4) Read online

  Tempting Tim

  Melissa Ellen

  Honey Bee Publishing, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 by Melissa Ellen

  Cover Copyright © 2020 by Melissa Ellen

  Photo Copyright © 2020 by Wander Aguiar Photography LLC

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.

  Honey Bee Publishing, LLC

  First Edition: June 2020

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Enjoy this book?

  Never Miss a Thing

  Also Available from Melissa Ellen

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Tim

  Sixteen Years Earlier…

  “Nervous?”

  “Nope.”

  I dropped my eyes to her knee that was bouncing so fast it reminded me of Thumper from Bambi. The tips of her fingers were planted deep above it. I was positive they’d leave an indention in her sun-kissed skin.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt,” I reciprocated her lie, lifting my gaze to look straight ahead again as we continued to wait on the hard, wooden bench. Allowing them to linger on her for too long or travel up her bare legs the way they wanted to would be a mistake.

  “I’m not scared.”

  I twisted my head to peer at her profile this time. Anxious tension was written all over her face. It made me want to slip my arm around her, pull her against me, and press a firm kiss on top of her head in hopes to lessen her nerves. But I wouldn’t. That wasn’t Conley’s and my relationship.

  The lying to hide our true feelings and thoughts, that was us. It’s the way we’d always been and always would be. Ever since that scorching summer day she walked into my garage during one of my band’s practices. It’d been three years. I could still remember it like it was yesterday, the vision of her as strong and vivid as the regret I still felt.

  She’d been wearing a too-big-for-her vintage Led Zeppelin T-shirt tied in a knot at her waist and cut-off jean shorts that showed off her long, lean legs. Her curly, raven-colored hair had been piled high on her head with strands falling around her heart-shaped face, the same way it was today.

  “He should be here,” she said under her breath, glancing at the cell phone clutched in her other hand. I’d barely heard her over the loud music and the constant buzzing sound filling any potential silence.

  “He will be.” I had no idea if he would. If he didn’t make it here soon, I’d kick his ass myself. Not that I minded being the fill-in. I’d do almost anything for Conley Logan. “Show me your sketch again,” I added when my assurance hadn’t seemed to soothe her.

  For the first time since we arrived, a slight smile crept onto her lips. The tension eased from her small frame as she slipped her hand into the rear pocket of her jean shorts, pulling out a folded piece of paper with the sketch she’d drawn. She handed it to me. I unfolded the letter-sized sheet to stare at the black linework that filled the page. It was a collage of four delicate flowers, interweaved with small vines of leaves. Each one represented something significant to her, and they were woven together into a beautiful design.

  “It’s gonna make an awesome tattoo, Con.”

  She leaned into my side to look at it with me. The action was innocent, but still set off a heated, tingling sensation across my skin. “My parents are gonna flip when they see it. They’ll probably kick me out of the house.” She sat back with a huff, crossing her arms.

  The immediate emptiness I felt at the loss of her touch mocked me. “If they do, you can always sleep in our basement.”

  “Jeez. Thanks. A cold, damp room with a couch that reeks of cat urine.” She shoved at my shoulder lightly, another smile escaping. “I wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”

  I grinned at her, glad to see her nerves were momentarily forgotten. “Hey,” I said with mock outrage, “Mr. Pickles is old. He can’t help it if he has bladder-control issues.”

  “It’s probably from all the pickle juice you guys give him. That can’t be good for cats,” she said through a chuckle.

  “He likes it,” I said with a shrug. It’s how he got his name.

  “Conley?” a deep voice interrupted her laughter. We both glanced up at a sizeable man covered in tattoos and piercings. A red, overgrown beard outlined his jaw, revealing only his eyes that were locked on Conley. “You ready?”

  She turned her gaze back to me and then to the entrance, the light-hearted fun in her eyes gone again. “He’s not here.”

  I hated the disappointment on her face, hated knowing that I wasn’t the one she wanted. I held back the rage at Bobby rushing through me, fighting to lash out. It was bad enough he’d been the one she chose. It only made it worse that he was never here when she needed him.

  She’d been talking about her plan to get this tattoo on her eighteenth birthday for months now. He’d forgotten not only her birthday, but also that she wanted him by her side for this moment. Not that I needed the evidence, but it proved he was a self-centered moron.

  “You’ll be fine,” I tried to assure her for the hundredth time. “It’ll be over before you know it. The first one is always the scariest. After that, you’ll be itching for another one.”

  Biting down lightly on her bottom lip, she nodded and stood as she ran her palms down her legs.

  I stood with her, handing her the paper. “Don’t forget this.”

  “Thanks.” Our fingers brushed as she reached for it.

  I drew back my hand before the instinct to hold hers took over. She turned, following slowly behind the man who’d be inking her skin. Watching her walk away, I took a step backward, lowering onto the bench again, when she spun to face me.

  “I want you,” she blurted, her eyes slamming shut as her cheeks changed to a light shade of pink.

  I halted mid-sit and rose upright. The rapid thumping in my chest nearly drowned out her next words. “I mean, I need someone with me.” She opened her eyes, meeting mine. “To distract me… Would you mind keeping me company?”

  Before I could form any response, the door to the tattoo shop flew open, drawing both of our attention.

  “You made it,” she breathed, her words no longer directed at me, but at the guy walking through the door. The relief in her voice was another sharp stab to my chest.

  “Hey, babe,
” Bobby greeted her, giving me a pat on the shoulder as he brushed by me headed for Conley. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you?”

  I bit down the sarcastic laugh wanting to burst from my mouth. We both knew this wasn’t his priority or he wouldn’t have texted me earlier today, asking me to bring her here. He’d completely forgotten until she messaged him to find out what time he was picking her up.

  He’d bailed on her to go with one of our bandmates to check out a new guitar on sale in the next town over. He hadn’t even told her I would be the one to pick her up. Her surprised expression when I showed up at her house told me that much. Doing what I did best, I lied to her, telling her he’d be meeting us. Then I fired off a text to him, demanding he get his ass here.

  She drew back slightly, rising up on the balls of her feet to kiss him. His hands dropped to her ass and squeezed. Having already hit my limit of watching them together, I cleared my throat. “I’m just gonna…” I jabbed a thumb at the exit behind me. Neither one of them seemed to hear me nor remembered I was a few feet away. With a shake of my head, I turned on my heels and walked toward the door, shoving it open.

  “Tim! Wait!” Conley hollered. Before I realized what was happening, her arms were wrapped around my waist and every inch of her body molded to mine with her cheek pressed to my chest. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  My heart stampeded in my rib cage once again as I willed my dick to behave and not react to her being flush against me. “No problem.” The strangled words came out more as a deep croak.

  She pulled from our embrace, lifting to her toes to plant a kiss on my cheek before she scurried off and back to her boyfriend’s side.

  “Yeah, thanks, man,” Bobby said, his eyes locked on me as he lifted his chin and intertwined his fingers with hers. His appreciation was laced with a warning I didn’t need.

  I clenched and unclenched my fists, grinding my back molars, and shoved through the door again before the tension between Bobby and me turned into something more. It was the last thing our band needed—a fight over a girl who had never been mine.

  I had nobody to blame but myself. He’d made a move when I hadn’t. If I could go back to that day, three years ago in my garage, I would’ve grown a pair and staked my claim. She’d been there to see me, but somehow, she’d ended up with him. And now, there would never be an us.

  Conley

  Present Day…

  “Just say it already,” I demanded through a groan, heaving the heavy box into my arms. I placed it on the black granite counter of the island and looked up at my mother when she said nothing.

  Leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed, she stared back at me, the silence ensuing.

  “Well… go on,” I motioned to her with my hand. “I know it’s killing you inside not to say I told you so.”

  She sighed, lowering her arms to her side and taking the few steps into the pint-sized kitchen. Stopping on the other side of the island, she reached for my hand, her long, graceful fingers wrapping around mine. “You make it sound as if I wanted this for you.”

  “Well, you and Dad were never exactly accepting of Bobby.”

  She yanked her hand away from mine as if I’d burned her. “Of course we accepted him,” she defended, her voice pitching an octave higher.

  I raised an eyebrow, slanting my head to the side, both of us aware they never liked him. I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t admit it. Especially now.

  “It’s just Bobby is…well, he’s…”

  I waited as she struggled, carefully choosing her words—ones that wouldn’t tarnish the perfect reputation she worked hard to maintain as the preacher’s wife.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t worry about what the townsfolk of Billingsley thought of me. I refused to play the part of a saint, and I didn’t understand her need to when the conversation comprised only the two of us. Maybe it was a habit for her. She was naturally kind and good, but sometimes I wished she’d just say what was on her mind. Be real with me. Show me I wasn’t the only one with flaws.

  “A self-absorbed asshole?” I supplied.

  “Conley Ann Logan!” she reprimanded as her lips pursed with a refrained smile.

  “You know it’s true,” I said through a laugh as I opened the box and pulled out a few bubble-wrapped plates from inside.

  “He just wasn’t the right one for you.” She reached into the box to help me unpack my new dishes.

  “That’s an understatement,” I grumbled as she continued on.

  “We worried about how much of yourself you gave. It seemed like you were always chasing after him and his dreams, instead of your own.”

  I gave her an annoyed glance.

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” She raised her palms in defense.

  Taking a few of the plates we’d unwrapped, I turned and placed them in a cabinet between the sink and stove. I shouldn’t be so defensive. She wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t told myself. It just hurt realizing I’d not only let myself down, but my parents.

  She stepped around the island, meeting me as I turned back toward the box, and swallowed me in a hug. “I’m so sorry it turned out this way, honey.” Her arms squeezed tighter. "Truly, I am. We both are. We only want you to be happy. But we’re also glad to have you home.” She kissed the side of my head. “I have my daughter back.”

  I melted into her embrace, breathing in the comforting scent of her favorite Chanel perfume. She’d worn it for as long as I could remember. My father gifted it to her every year at Christmas.

  He was always finding little ways to make her happy, and to show her he cared. I could count the number of times Bobby had done the same for me on one hand. One hand. Nearly two decades we were together and fewer than five times he’d done something with only me in mind.

  I’d made too many excuses over the years for him. As of a few weeks ago, I was done with excuses, done accepting less than I deserved. My mom and father were there for me when I’d decided to leave. They were the only two I’d been able to confide in.

  “Knock-knock!” my younger brother called, pushing open the front door of my new apartment. “Someone order pizza?”

  Breaking from our embrace, I hollered back, “We’re in the kitchen!”

  Ricky strutted into the room with one arm around his girlfriend, Mia, and his other balancing two boxes of pizza.

  “Thanks, little brother.” I ruffled his hair before snatching the pizzas from him.

  “Cut it out!” He swatted away my hand and combed his fingers through his short black strands, straightening them back out.

  I grinned and rolled my eyes at the annoyance on his face. He’d turned into a cocky brat since he became the varsity quarterback of his high school football team at the end of his freshman year. Now that he was a senior and dating the head cheerleader, it only seemed to inflate his over-grown ego.

  Ricky was born my sophomore year of high school. He’d been an unplanned pregnancy. Or, as my parents often referred to his unexpectedness, a surprise blessing from God. With the age gap between us, I wasn’t as close with Ricky as I wanted. I planned to make it my mission to change that and to ensure he didn’t turn out like Bobby—a man my brother had idolized over the years. The day he finally finds out about our split would be an upsetting one for him.

  “Thanks for picking up dinner,” Mom said, giving said blessing a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

  “No problem, Mom.” Ricky hugged her back using both arms. It was one of the few times you’d find him without a part of his body attached to his girlfriend. He was a momma’s boy. No doubt about it.

  He retrieved Mia’s hand and guided her to the small, round table that barely fit in my kitchen. She took a seat, giving me a nervous smile.

  “You want some pizza, Mia?” I asked, opening the lids as Ricky left her to get himself a plate.

  “Oh, no. I already ate.”

  “She doesn’t ea
t carbs,” Ricky added as he piled his plate high with slices of meaty pizza. “Or meat.”

  “Of course she doesn’t,” I muttered under my breath. Mom nudged my side with her elbow, giving me a discreet warning glare to be nice. I ignored her and grabbed a single slice. I ate as I continued to unpack and organize my kitchen while the rest of them sat at the table.

  “This is a nice apartment,” Mia said, her eyes scanning the room.

  “Right?” Ricky agreed through a mouthful of food. “You should see the pool. It’s lit.”

  Staring at him as he open-mouth chewed, I wondered sometimes how we were born of and raised by the same parents. I’d always heard that younger siblings had it easier. I guess my parents were too old and tired to enforce the same discipline and manners on Ricky as they had me.

  “Lit?” my mom mouthed silently to me.

  “I think he means cool, awesome, you know…” I replied with a shrug.

  “It’s got a hot tub, too.” Ricky winked at Mia, and she blushed.

  “That’s nice,” Mom said, while I scrunched up my nose. She didn’t catch the exchange between her son and his girlfriend, and I wished I hadn’t either. The last thing I wanted to think about was what Ricky and Mia would get up to in a hot tub—especially a hot tub I planned to use myself. “Any news on a job, Conley?” Mom moved onto a subject I wanted to think about even less.

  “No…but it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll find something soon.”