Tempted by Love: Jack Jock Steele (The Steeles at Silver Island Book 1) Read online

  “I don’t know how you guys keep track of all those members,” Desiree said, drawing Daphne back to the conversation.

  “Daphne is a pro at keeping track of people and what they need,” Chloe said. “We share the answering of posts on the forum, but Daphne does the heavy lifting when it comes to handling the online discussion questions each month, coordinating in-person meetings and Skype sessions, and coming up with ways to keep the forum fresh and exciting for new and existing members. She amazes me.”

  “You do just as much, Chloe, and planning meetings and coming up with ideas for discussions are what I love doing the most.”

  Before taking the job at Bayside, Daphne had worked at other resorts where she’d handled events, and she missed it desperately. She’d thought the book club might fill that longing, but as much as she enjoyed it, she still missed real event planning. Now that Hadley was getting bigger, she had more time to think about her future—their future—and the things she wanted for them. Like a small home of their own someplace where there were other children for Hadley to play with and a job where she had new, exciting things to look forward to. When Daphne had taken the job at the resort, events had been on her bosses’ agenda for a year or two out, but it had been two years and she was still waiting. Her mother had been urging her to talk with them about the event ideas for the resort she’d been jotting down and tucking away. Maybe it was time to feel out the situation. What better way than to ask her bosses’ wives?

  “Can I get your opinions about something?” Daphne asked.

  “Of course,” Emery said.

  “Ever since Desiree and Rick’s wedding here at Summer House and Harper and Gavin’s wedding on Silver Island, I’ve been really missing event planning. I’m thinking about asking the guys how they’d feel about hosting weddings and other events at the resort. We get calls about it all the time. I’ve turned down two people just this week. Do you think they’d be open to the idea?”

  “You’re already so busy,” Chloe said.

  Daphne shrugged. “I know, but I love planning events. They’re fun for me.”

  Chloe shook her head. “I hate to tell you this, but Serena said that Drake’s time is stretched so thin between the resort and his music shops, I doubt he has anything left to give.” Drake’s wife, Serena, was Chloe’s younger sister. In addition to co-owning Bayside Resort, Drake owned a chain of music shops along the East Coast. He and Serena were away for the next few weeks setting up a new shop in another state.

  “And with Aaron, I want Rick to work less, not more,” Desiree said. “I’m sorry, Daphne.”

  “Me too, with Dean,” Emery agreed. “He’s already splitting time between the resort and his landscaping business. I think the guys really like how low-key the business is. It’s manageable for them, and they’ve worked hard to get here. You’ve worked hard to get it there. Maybe you can do smaller events for the renters? Like game nights?”

  “Maybe,” Daphne said, feeling deflated. “We’d better get going or I’ll be late for work again. Finish up, Had.”

  Hadley pushed her finger through the top of her croissant. When she pulled it out, it was covered in chocolate. “Wick want dis?” She sucked the chocolate off.

  Emery stifled a laugh and said, “Oh boy. You are going to have your hands full when she’s a teenager.”

  “Tell me about it.” Daphne hoped Hadley would grow up to be less shy about sex and her body than she was but still have enough respect for herself to demand it from others. She had no idea how to teach that to her, but she was due a trip to the library and it never hurt to do a little research. She wiped Hadley’s hands and said, “Are you ready to go to school?”

  Hadley nodded, climbing off her chair as she said, “Kiss my baby bye-bye.”

  Daphne watched her toddle around the table, kiss Aaron’s head, and tell him she loved him. The girls mooned over her. Hadley might not be a smiley child, but she was loving, thoughtful, and kind. Maybe it shouldn’t bother Daphne that Jock didn’t stick around long enough to appreciate those things about her, but it did. The same way it bothered her that the one man she should stay away from was the only man who made her body go up in flames.

  Chapter Two

  ANOTHER DAY SHOT to hell.

  How many days did that make it? Three hundred and sixty-five torturous days and as many unbearable nights? For ten years?

  No. Not ten. The time Jock had spent with Harvey had been anything but a waste.

  He tried to focus on the heavy bag as he beat it to smithereens, blocking out the din of the boxing club and the self-loathing permeating his mind, but the morning had been replaying in his head like a bad movie all damn day. He couldn’t escape the sounds of Hadley’s cries or the hurt and anger in Daphne’s eyes as he’d stood there without saying a word like a fucking prick when that adorable little girl had come running toward him. He’d been pounding the heavy bag for forty minutes, and still Hadley’s pleas brought back the sounds of his baby’s weak cries and the crushing feeling in his chest when his son had taken his last breath.

  He punched the bag harder. Sweat dripped down his face, burning his eyes as memories of the car accident slammed into him. The crash had stolen Jock’s girlfriend, Kayla, and their son. It had driven a wedge between him and his twin brother, Archer, Kayla’s best friend since childhood, and had sent Jock spiraling into a depression he was sure would be his end. He gritted his teeth, punching faster, harder, pushing past muscle fatigue, past the clenching in his gut, struggling to find his limit so he could push past that, too. He’d hit the damn bag until he dropped if he had to. He should be able to put his horrific past behind him and move forward by now, to pick up that sweet little girl and earn that pretty smile along with her beautiful mother’s respect. Daphne probably hated his fucking guts, and he didn’t blame her. But she and her daughter were two of the reasons he’d come back to the Cape to try to work through his hellish past instead of trying to settle down in some other part of the country. Come hell or high water, he was going to find his way clear of this—or die trying.

  Brock “the Beast” Garner stepped beside him, watching him go at the bag. At six four and about two thirty, with thick blond hair and chiseled features, Brock lived up to his nickname. He was a local boxing champion and the owner of Cape Boxing, the club where Jock had been trying to find his salvation for the past few months.

  Jock dragged his forearm across his sweaty brow and said, “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

  “Seems like it’s going a lot better for me than it is for you.” He flashed a friendly smile that turned him from a beast to a gentle giant. “I haven’t seen you going at it this hard for a while. What’s happening in that head of yours?”

  “Just trying to calm the chaos.” Jock wasn’t one to air his dirty laundry. Jett and Tegan knew what he’d been through, as had Harvey, but beyond that, he kept his shit locked down tight. Or rather he had, until he’d lost Harvey. Now the ghosts of his past were rattling their chains, trying to break free from the dungeon in which he’d buried them, and he had no fucking clue how to stop them.

  “Woman trouble?” Brock asked.

  If only. Jock hadn’t had a relationship with a woman since the accident. He swallowed hard, pushing back the memories before he dredged that awful shit up, too. “Yeah, you know how it is,” he said. It wasn’t a total lie. Daphne was a woman, and she definitely created chaos in his mind.

  “Can’t say that I do.” Brock eyed his raven-haired wife, Cree, sauntering over from the boxing ring. At first glance, Cree, dressed in head to toe black, from her tank top to her combat boots, with colorful tattoos snaking up her arms and neck, appeared to be the polar opposite of clean-cut Brock. She definitely had a tough side, but she was the kindhearted pixie to Brock’s gentle giant.

  “Guess not,” Jock said as Cree reached for Brock’s hand and Brock leaned in for a kiss. He tried to ignore the wave of jealousy he’d felt lately when he saw happy couples. That new, uncomfortable s
ensation had started shortly after he’d met Daphne. It was just one of the differences he’d discovered in himself since Harvey’s death.

  Jock had been a writer and a caretaker, and he’d been phenomenal at both. But he hadn’t written a word in more than a decade, and while he’d loved caring for Harvey, he wasn’t a caretaker at heart. The problem was, he was floundering. He had no idea who he was anymore. Harvey had left him a fortune on the condition he publish another book, and Jock knew it was Harvey’s way of pushing him to get back to living a real life. Harvey had badgered him to bridge the gap with his family, whom he saw only a couple of times each year for a few hours, to get out with people his own age, and to live the life Jock’s baby boy never got the chance to. Jock didn’t give a rat’s ass about the inheritance. He’d made good money off his book, and Harvey had paid him handsomely. He’d lived a very frugal life and had enough money tucked away to last several years. But Harvey had saved him from falling off the face of the earth. He’d become his family, his prankster buddy, and his closest friend, and Jock wanted to make him proud. He had spent a year trying to write. The trouble was, he had no idea how to find his muse or his way back to his family, much less ever have another relationship with a woman.

  “Hey, Jock. See the gorgeous girl with long, light-brown hair standing by the ring?” Cree pointed to a tall, fit woman wearing spandex and pretending she wasn’t watching them in the mirror as she drank from a water bottle. “She just started working out here and she was asking about you. I know you like your privacy, so I didn’t say anything other than you’ve worked out here for a while.”

  Cree was always trying to set him up. He’d told her dozens of times that he wasn’t looking to become involved with anyone, but that hadn’t stopped her yet, so he’d learned evasion tactics. “Thanks, but I’m actually on my way out.”

  “I could introduce you for another time,” she suggested hopefully.

  Jock shook his head. “You’re one persistent woman.”

  “She believes everyone should be in love.” Brock hugged Cree against his side and said, “She’s not wrong, you know. The right woman can calm that battlefield in your head.”

  “I’m good, thanks.” Jock held out his gloved hands and said, “But you can get these off for me if you’re itching to help.”

  “I’ve got it.” As Cree took off his gloves, she said, “You should come to Undercover one night and hear me and Brock sing.”

  Undercover was a local nightclub, and Jock had heard both Cree and Brock sing there before. Cree had the voice of an angel and she was in negotiations with a music label to cut her first album, and Brock sang a cappella with two other boxers.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “If you give me a heads-up, I can let her know when you’ll be there,” she said cheerfully, handing him the gloves.

  “I’d really like to fly under the radar if you don’t mind,” Jock said as casually as he could, hoping she wouldn’t push him any further.

  “Leave the guy alone, babe. He doesn’t want to be set up with every woman in here.” Brock swatted her butt, and she walked away giggling. “Sorry, Jock.”

  “No worries. You two make love look easy. That’s a good thing.” Jock had loved Kayla like a close friend, and they’d had fun together, but he’d never experienced the kind of love Brock and Cree had. The kind that lit a guy up from the inside out. His thoughts drifted to Daphne, but he knew better than to allow himself to play in that sandbox. The last thing she needed was a fucked-up guy like him in her life. He grabbed his bag from the bench and shoved his gloves in it. “I’m taking off. See you around.”

  “Hope you find the remedy for that storm in your head.”

  “Thanks, man. Me too.”

  Jock headed outside feeling a little less agitated than he had when he’d arrived. The brisk evening air cooled his sweaty skin. As he climbed into his Range Rover and headed for the resort, his thoughts returned to Daphne and Hadley. Rick had told him that Hadley had stopped crying after a minute or two that morning, but that didn’t soothe the ache that had been his constant companion ever since he’d walked away.

  He stopped at a convenience store for a Powerade, and as he walked by a display of roses that he must have passed a hundred times, he paused, thinking about buying one for Daphne as a token of apology. He had no idea if she even liked roses, but didn’t most women? Aw hell, roses signified much more than an apology. Harvey’s craggy voice whispered through his mind. The way to a woman’s heart is knowing her favorite things.

  Jock and Daphne had been at enough of the same gatherings and outings with their friends that he knew she loved three things, and Hadley topped that list. The other two were bacon and muffins—all kinds of muffins, from what he could tell. When Daphne saw muffins, her eyes brightened the way other women’s eyes did when they saw diamonds. And she did this nervous thing every time, taking a small step back from the table, her beautiful baby blues shifting around her, as if she wanted to make sure everyone else got their muffins first. He thought about the other things he’d noticed about her, like the way she read rag magazines sometimes when Hadley was playing in the yard or on the beach, and how she tucked them away whenever someone walked by, like she didn’t want anyone knowing she read them. He wondered what other guilty pleasures she had.

  He couldn’t exactly bring her a pound of bacon, though he did enjoy watching her eat it. Watching Daphne and her voluptuous curves do anything was his guilty pleasure.

  “Excuse me,” an older man said, jerking Jock back to reality.

  He realized he was blocking the aisle and said, “Sorry.” He stepped aside and went in search of muffins. There were too many choices—chocolate chip, blueberry, and apple crumble. He grabbed a box of each and snagged a few other things he thought she’d enjoy, hoping the gesture would help ease the pain he’d caused. By the time he went to get his drink, he thought the apology gifts just might do the trick.

  As he drove to the resort, every mile took his guilt deeper. This wasn’t the first time he’d had that reaction to Hadley, or the tenth, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. He was a pretty in-control guy, except when it came to the flood of horrific memories that accompanied the look or touch of a baby or small child turning to him for protection or care. He gritted his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew how it felt when his own child had suffered, and he hated that he’d caused Hadley and Daphne any grief at all, much less time and time again. There were no two ways about it. He needed to fix this shit or get the hell away from them. He eyed the bag with his purchases, anger and frustration coiling inside him like a viper readying to strike. This was a ridiculous gesture. As if muffins or magazines could ease the pain of her child hurting? Or wipe away the memory of his asinine, though visceral, reactions? He was a fucking idiot. He threw his hand across the passenger seat with a roar of anger, sending the bag flying against the dashboard, and his purchases tumbled out.

  Fucking muffins.

  Food couldn’t fix this.

  He wasn’t sure anything could.

  His gut knotted as he turned into the resort. His headlights flashed over Daphne curled up on a chair beside the office with her legs tucked beneath her. Her beautiful blond hair curtained her face as she looked at a laptop balanced on her legs, a slice of pizza hanging from her fingertips. The familiar jolt of adrenaline that always accompanied the sight of Daphne flooded his body with awareness.

  He’d never forget the first time he’d seen her at their friend Gavin’s birthday party last summer. The shy beauty hadn’t known he’d spotted her stealing glances at him, her cheeks pinking up each time she’d looked over. He’d been stealing his own furtive glances, drinking in her sweet curves and innocent eyes. Their gazes had collided for only a moment, and he’d been struck by the surge of electricity and longing that had consumed him. It had been forever since he’d felt anything even close to desire, and with one simple glance, crimson stain
ing her cheeks, Daphne had ignited passion he’d never felt before. In the space of a single breath, her image had been etched into his mind. At the time, he’d been vaguely aware of Rick and his brother, Drake, on their knees, trying to coax a smile from a wispy-haired little girl in a pink dress. He’d been about to go introduce himself to Daphne when that little girl had toddled over and wrapped her arms around his leg, blinking the same wide blue eyes up at him as the ones that had mesmerized him moments earlier. Tegan had come to his rescue, reaching for the little girl, but she’d clung tighter to Jock, leaning away from Tegan, her cheeks puffed out in anger. And then she’d flashed the cutest grin up at Jock, and his fucking muscles had corded tight. Daphne had nervously approached him and said he must be a pretty special man to win over her little girl.

  Her little girl. The realization had hit him like a brick in the face.

  Daphne was even sexier and more precious up close. He’d known then that he would be in deep trouble if he didn’t break the spell she had him under. He’d thought he’d known just how to squash it, and he’d told her that her daughter’s radar was off. He’d been blunt, thinking she’d storm away, but instead it had earned the most enticing smile he’d ever seen, and it was that shy and somehow also seductive smile that he conjured late at night, luring him into the world of dark desires she’d awakened. Daphne Zablonski had become his wonderwall, the person he was drawn to when they were out with their friends and thought about in the hundreds of hours in between. The one he knew enough to keep his distance from.

  Daphne looked up from her laptop, and Jock realized his foot was still on the brake and he’d been staring at her for far too long. She shaded her eyes from his headlights, leaning forward like she was trying to make out who he was. He could continue driving and hide away in his cottage, but she was the last person he wanted to hide from. If ever there was a time for him to man up and face the music, it was now.