Tempt Me - By Shiloh Walker Page 0,15

thing?”

“I don't see it that way at all. I sell things to make a woman feel good and feel better about herself. If you feel better about yourself, if you feel beautiful, then you are beautiful. Screw what society thinks.”

At that, Lara smiled. “I want that on a bumper sticker.” Then she glanced down at the burgundy bag she carried and smiled. “And, I gotta admit, I felt pretty damn beautiful wearing this.”

“That's because you are.” Rocki lifted a brow. “Beauty doesn't have anything to do with the size of your clothing.”

“Thank you.” Lara looked down, a blush creeping over her cheeks. “You have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.”

“You'd be surprised. We all need to hear that sometimes.”

Just then, the bell over the door sounded. And in walked Cole Stanton.

Shoot. Reprieve over.

Customers, Rocki could handle. Nervous customers, unsure customers, bring them on. Cole Stanton—that was a different matter entirely.

Bullshit. You can do this. You can handle him. She made herself look at Lara and Miley and smile. “I hope to see both of you back. Please be sure to call or e-mail if you have any problems or questions.”

With her heart in her throat, she turned to look at Cole as the two women left. Her heart did a little slam dance in her chest and she was no longer quite so sure could handle him. Well, she could...but the way she wanted to handle him was totally unacceptable, considering his situation—the engaged one.

Why in the hell did he have to be engaged?

Cool, she told herself. Keep it cool.

As the door swung shut behind Lara, Cole smiled at her. “I'm not chasing customers away, am I?”

“No. They were done.” Her palms were sweating, she realized. This is stupid. She hadn’t let a man get to her like this since...well, not since Brant. Shit. Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. She needed to get him out of here. Like now.

Screw the date. But...damn it, he had already paid for it.

“I don’t think you should be buying dates when you’re engaged,” Rocki blurted out. Shit. So not cool.

He lifted a brow at her, a slow smile curling his lips. “Well, I generally don’t buy dates. But it was for a good cause. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Couldn't help yourself?” Huffing out a breath, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter at her back. “You frequently lose control at charity events, is that what you're saying?” Absently, she caught a lock of hair, tugging on it as she studied him.

Damn, he was pretty.

“Oh, no, that's not what I'm saying at all. I don't lose control, Mrs. Monroe. It's just not my style. I saw you standing there, though, and I just had to do it. What can I say? You tempt me to do very weird things.”

Rocki stared at him. “Excuse me, but I didn't do a damn thing. Look, you have to realize this isn’t exactly right.” Way too pretty, she amended as that smile widened. Gold eyes glinted at her, full of amusement and humor.

“Because I’m not your type. I’m the taken type.”

“Right.”

“And if I wasn’t the taken type? Would that make things better?” He stood in the middle of her store wearing a thick, cable knit sweater, faded jeans and heavy boots—excellent gear considering the steady snowfall they had coming down outside. Golden blond hair tumbled into his eyes, and she had the urge to move out from behind the safety of the counter and push it back from his face. His hair looked wicked soft...she’d just love to...

Taken! He’s taken, remember...

Setting her jaw, she shook her head.

“If you weren’t the taken type, then you’d be the rebound type. Still not ideal.” She gave him a wry smile. “And besides, you are taken, so let’s keep that in mind. I really don’t want to get into a fight with your beautiful bride-to-be.” She smirked and added, “I’d break her in two.”

“I don’t know. Mara’s meaner than you.”

“Don’t bet on it.” She stared at him. “So, let’s just not push that button, okay?”

“Okay. Look, it’s a date. One for a good cause.” He flashed that smile at her again and she felt her knees go weak, her heart skipping. “A date.” He ambled forward and leaned over the counter, elbows braced on it. “Not a lifelong commitment. But for the record, I should probably tell you ...” His voice trailed off and he looked down, staring through the glass countertop, although she