Page 23 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)

M egan

“Look at you,” Gavin says, dropping into the seat across from me. “You’re one week in, and you’re alive.”

“It was touch and go there for a while, but I seem to be surviving.”

The lunch rush at The Wet Whistle isn’t much of a rush at all.

Customers wander in as if they have nowhere to be and casually order their sandwiches while chatting up Tabitha.

It’s the most low-key establishment I’ve ever seen—even more so than a lunch I had in Spain, where the patrons could bring their own lunch to the restaurant and enjoy the atmosphere.

Gavin runs his hands down his jeans and tosses me a killer smile. “How are things going with my brother?”

I look down at my phone to keep him from reading my features.

Whatever I expected this job to entail, this wasn’t it. Five days in, we’re coming together in a routine that feels too natural.

I just happen to come downstairs while Chase is getting ready for work.

He packs his lunch and gathers his things while I sip a cup of coffee.

Some mornings he’s almost chatty; others, he hardly says a word.

But even those mornings, I’m pretty confident he likes me sitting at the table while he preps his day.

He steals glances when he thinks I’m not looking.

And every morning, without fail, he thanks me for being there.

Then he flashes a smile, as small as it may be, that fuels my day.

It feels good to be appreciated. It feels even better to be wanted—both as the nanny and a woman. Because even though we’ve agreed that’s not in the cards, it doesn’t mean the urge has gone away. For either of us .

“Megs?”

“Oh, it’s going pretty good,” I say, tucking a strand of hair.

The knowing look on his face causes my cheeks to heat.

“Pretty good, huh?” he asks.

Before I must respond, Tabitha slides up to the table next to Gavin.

“Hey, cutie,” she says to him, snapping a piece of gum. “What can I get ya?”

“Don’t you look pretty today, Miss Tab,” he says.

“You’re such a flirt, Mr. Marshall.”

He grins. “It’s impossible not to flirt with someone as beautiful as you.”

She swats him with her order pad. “What do you want? Anything?”

“Nah, I’m just here to harass Megan.” He looks at me and winks. “Did you order already?”

I nod.

“Well, all right,” Tabitha says. “I’ll have your food out in a few, Megan.”

“Thanks,” I say.

Once we’re alone, Gavin leans forward and laces his fingers on the table.

“What?” I ask.

“What, what ?”

“What’s that little smirk about?”

It grows deeper. “Oh, nothing.”

“Dammit, Gavin.”

He laughs. “You and Chase are two peas in a pod.”

Tabitha returns with my grilled cheese and fries. She places the plate and a fresh Sprite in front of me before jetting off to help a large table of hunters who came in.

My bracelets jingle against the tabletop as I reach for my drink.

“My job as Chase’s brother and your new best friend,” he says, “is to ensure you’re both … you know …” He searches for the right word. “I’m here to facilitate things.”

“Do I look like I need a facilitator?”

He slowly blinks. “Yes.”

I put my straw in the new glass and take a quick sip. Ignoring his implications .

“What have you been up to?” I ask, refocusing the conversation on Gavin.

The sly smile he gives me makes it clear he knows what I’m doing but is willing to play along.

“I’ve been working,” he says.

“Looks like it.”

He laughs. “I work here at night part-time—mostly because I like it, and if I have too much time on my hands, trouble seems to find me.”

“I believe that.”

My sandwich is buttery and cheesy—grilled cheese perfection. The first bite leaves a trail of oil down my chin.

“During the day,” Gavin says as I dab a napkin to my face, “I work at Cotton’s.”

I put the napkin on the table. “I have heard about Cotton’s many times this week, and I have no idea who the guy is.”

“He’s a farmer,” he says. “He owns half of this county. His farm isn’t far from where you broke down last weekend.”

“What do you do for him?”

“A little of everything. Tend to the animals. Work on equipment. Bale hay. Seed, fertilize, harvest. You know—farm work shit.”

“Sounds like you’re a real Renaissance Man.”

He leans back in his chair and nods. “That’s me. Jack-of-all-trades.”

I take another bite. Oh my heavens. This is delicious .

Gavin studies me for a long time. If he’s waiting on my cue, he’ll have to wait until the cows come home because I’m not leading this conversation. Not when I think he wants it to go in a particular direction I’m trying to avoid.

“Do you know what’s funny?” he asks finally.

“What’s that?”

“Here we are, best friends and all, and I don’t know anything about you.”

“That is funny.”

He narrows his eyes, making me laugh.

I take another drink and settle in. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“What do you want to tell me?”

“Nothing.”

He laughs. “Wrong answer.”

“Gavin, really—what do you want to know? My birthday? Favorite color? Favorite Paula Abdul song?”

He sits up like we’re about to square off. “Birthday?”

“July twenty-eighth.”

“Color?”

“Vermilion.”

“Fancy,” he says.

“It’s color perfection.”

He nods. “Noted. Paula Abdul song?”

“I’d say ‘Straight Up,’ but the video for ‘Opposites Attract’ is perfection,” I smirk. “You have no idea who Paula Abdul is, do you?”

“I’ll YouTube it later.”

“Cool.”

We stare at one another like we can’t decide if we’re friends or enemies. Our eyes are narrowed, brows furrowed. It stays that way until the corners of Gavin’s lips begin to pull to the ceiling. They bring mine up along with them.

“Your turn,” I say. “Birthday, color, and … Aerosmith song.”

“February first, cerulean, and ‘Cryin’’ is the best Aerosmith song of all time.”

I make a face. “Wrong answer.”

“How can it be wrong? They’re my favorites.”

“Everyone knows that Aerosmith’s best song is ‘Rag Doll.’ Maybe I’ll agree with ‘Dream On’— maybe . But it’s not ‘Cryin’’ in any way, shape, or form.”

He grins. “Have you seen Alicia Silverstone in that video? I rest my case.”

Together, we laugh.

Gavin stretches his legs out, much like Chase does when he’s itching to get up after dinner but is polite while Kennedy and I chat.

“Do you need to go?” I ask.

“No. Why?”

I shrug.

“I saw Patti this morning,” Gavin says. “We were getting gas at the same time. She asked me for your number, and I told her that I didn’t have it. She thought I was lying.”

“Why would you be lying?”

“Well, you know,” he says cockily. “I usually end up with women’s numbers.”

I scoff.

“You think I’m kidding?” he asks. “I don’t know who ninety percent of the people are in my phone.”

I believe that wholeheartedly.

“You don’t have mine,” I say. “That says something.”

“I don’t have yours because you’re … you. ”

“What does that mean?” I ask, trying not to be offended.

“You’re my friend . I’m not trying to hook up with you.”

“Should I take that personally? According to your brother, you try to hook up with everyone.”

He chuckles. “Well, according to my brother, I’m not allowed to try to hook up with you.”

Gavin holds my gaze, letting that sink in.

Chase has banned Gavin from trying to hook up with me? What the fuck?

“Not that I want to hook up with you,” I say, making that clear. “But why does Chase give a shit about who I hook up with?”

Gavin gasps. “You wouldn’t hook up with me?”

“ Gavin .”

“What’s wrong with me?” He looks hurt. “And don’t say I’m not your type because I’m everyone’s type.”

I burst out laughing.

“You’re killing me here, Megs.”

“If we were in another time and place, I’d totally consider you doable,” I say. “You’re cute.”

“ Cute ? Kill me now.”

I continue to laugh. “Stop it, Gav.”

Tucker walks by the table. “I think you’re cute, Gavin.”

“Fuck off, Tucker.”

He walks away, his belly bouncing as he chuckles.

“Fine.” He sits up and straightens his shirt. “I’m still offended, but I’ll let it slide.”

“Thanks. Now, why does Chase care?”

Gavin’s antics stop, and a coyness creeps across his features. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse for me.

My heart beats faster the longer Gavin goes without talking. He becomes more smug. More arrogant. More entertained by this line of conversation. And while that worries me, I can’t back out now because I want to know the answer .

I’m well aware that Chase is attracted to me. He’s outright admitted it. But he’s also been clear that it doesn’t matter and has maintained a distance between us like it’s his job. Ensuring that nothing happens between us.

If that’s the case, why would it bother him if I hooked up with his brother?

“You know, I like the power I wield in this chat,” Gavin says.

I wad up a napkin and throw it at him. He catches it quickly and laughs. Then he tosses it on the table.

“Let me ask you a question,” he says. “How is a girl like you even available in the first place, anyway?”

“Oh, there are many reasons.”

“Such as …”

I mirror his posture and rest back in my chair too. “Well, the last guy I dated continued to use the dating app I met him on well after we were supposed to be exclusive.”

“Yeah, I’m not into dating apps. It feels like you’re auditioning for a role. Like, ‘ Hi, here are my stats. Am I good enough to fuck, date, or marry? ’” He snorts. “I don’t need that kind of pressure.”

“Same.”

“What about the guy before that?” he asks.

I sigh. “Let’s see. The guy before that worked all the time. I don’t mean long hours. I mean, seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. If he wasn’t at the office, he was thinking about being at the office. And the guy before that was a jealous bastard. That didn’t last long.”

A parade of the men I’ve dated marches through my head. Each of them leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I can’t remember being in a relationship with any of them where I felt comfortable. None of them felt like they were made for me.

Which is probably why I dated them .

“I have this nasty habit,” I say.

“Like what? You’re scaring me.”

I giggle. “Not like that. I just have this habit of choosing to date men I know are bad for me.” I try to find an example to help him understand.

“Okay. There was this guy named Peter. In retrospect, he probably could’ve been a decent match.

He had a good job, was sweet, and loved what I did for a living. And I refused to date him.”

“ Why ?”

“It’s a character flaw of mine,” I say. “If something has long-term potential, I run like the wind.”

“You make absolutely no sense, my friend.”

I take another drink. “Oh, I know.”

“What is your reasoning? What makes you the way you are?”

I cross my arms over my chest and exhale.

Why am I the way that I am ? What a damn question.

My mouth goes dry. What is it with these Marshall men and their ridiculous questions ?

“Is it one of those self-loathing things?” he asks.

“No, not really,” I say slowly. “It’s more of a … it’s more of an unsettledness in my soul, if that makes any sense.”

His forehead wrinkles. “So you want to be secure before you build a relationship? You want the job and house and to do all of that on your own first? Is that what it is?”

I sigh. “Not really. It’s hard to explain.”

“They say if you can’t explain it to a child, then you don’t understand it yourself.”

“That might very well be true.”

He grins. “No, it’s not. Tell me.”

“ Gavin …”

I groan, trying desperately not to get sucked into the vortex surrounding him—the whirlpool that strips you of your defenses and makes you vulnerable to his charm . Dammit .

Like I have no choice—because I don’t—I find myself trying to make him understand.

“I don’t want to commit,” I say. “I don’t want to put myself out there.”

“Fair. But why?”

“I don’t know.” My skin suddenly feels too tight. The room is too small. I tug on the bottom of my shirt to get more air against my body. “I guess it’s that when I commit, or anyone commits, for that matter, you’re trusting them not to hurt you.”

My words fall between us. I don’t know what Gavin assumed I was going to say. But I don’t think this is it.

His playfulness melts away, and soberness replaces it.

These Marshall men are damn good men .

When I first met Chase and Gavin, I thought they were opposites.

Chase was a grumpy cat. Gavin was a goofball.

But now that I’ve spent more time with them, I see them more clearly.

Sure, they’re still broody and carefree, respectively, but they both carry a heavy sense of responsibility.

Kindness. They may wear it differently, but they wear it—impressively—nonetheless.

My throat is raw, as if the words scratched the thin lining of my esophagus. My body tingles like it’s suspended in time, and I’m waiting for something to break me out of the spell.

“I’ve never believed that anyone wouldn’t hurt me,” I say, my voice falling away.

His jaw clenches shut. “Has someone hurt you?”

“No, not like that,” I say, grinning softly, touched by his concern. “I’ve just not had many reasons to believe that the love you read about in books is real. And if it’s not, I’d rather save myself the time and energy.” And heartache when they cast me aside .

Tabitha places my bill on the table. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m good. Thank you,” I say.

Gavin whisks the bill off the table and hands it back to the server. “Put it on my tab, please, Tab.”

“No. I’ll pay. Please.”

Gavin gives me a look like Chase—the one I know not to bother arguing against.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Yeah, well, I owed you one. I promised I’d buy your dinner after you went to Chase’s if it went bad, but he raced up here and got it before I could.”

I grin. “It’s not a competition.”

“Oh, I know.”

He stands and waits for me to get to my feet too. I grab a final drink of Sprite, leave a tip, and follow him outside.

“What are you doing today?” I ask him.

“Going back to work. You?”

I glance at my phone to check the time. “I’m heading to the school to pick up Kennedy in a little bit.”

“All right. Have fun. Tell my niece I said hi.”

“Will do.”

I turn toward the parking lot when Gavin calls out.

“Hey, Meg.”

Looking over my shoulder, I pause. “Yeah?”

“Do you know why it’s not a competition?”

“Why?”

He smiles. “Because Chase has already won.”

“Hardly,” I say, chuckling.

“You asked me why Chase wouldn’t want me asking you out. It’s because he’s trying to figure out how he feels about you—just like you’re doing the same with him.”

“Again, hardly.”

He shrugs.

“Didn’t you hear a word I said?” I ask, laughing. “I’m trying not to set myself up for failure anymore. I’m trying to outgrow that specific behavior.”

He walks backward toward his truck, his hair bouncing with every step. “Suit yourself.”

“Goodbye, Gav.”

I head to my car, leaving him behind me.

If only his words would stay back there too.