Tempt Me Read online

  Tempt Me

  A Hawthorn Hills Duet

  Adam and Mila Book One

  Claire Raye

  Copyright © 2021 by Claire Raye

  www.claireraye.com

  Tempt Me

  Adam and Mila Book One

  Cover Photograph by Lindee Robinson

  Cover Design by Amy Queau of QDesign

  All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  Prologue- Two weeks ago: Adam

  Chapter One- Present Day: Mila

  Chapter Two: Adam

  Chapter Three: Mila

  Chapter Four: Adam

  Chapter Five: Mila

  Chapter Six: Adam

  Chapter Seven: Mila

  Chapter Eight: Adam

  Chapter Nine: Mila

  Chapter Ten: Adam

  Chapter Eleven: Mila

  Chapter Twelve: Adam

  Chapter Thirteen: Mila

  Chapter Fourteen: Adam

  Chapter Fifteen: Mila

  Chapter Sixteen: Adam

  Chapter Seventeen: Mila

  Chapter Eighteen: Adam

  Chapter Nineteen: Mila

  Chapter Twenty: Adam

  Chapter Twenty-One: Mila

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Adam

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Mila

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Adam

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Mila

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Adam

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Mila

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Adam

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Mila

  Chapter Thirty: Adam

  What’s Next?

  Your Free Books are Waiting!

  Other Books by Claire Raye

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Two weeks ago

  Adam

  As soon as I get out of the car, I hear it. A voice that is hard to miss and even harder to forget, no matter how much I try to tell myself I should.

  “Dad, really, I can get it.”

  “Out of the way, Mila.”

  “Seriously?” she asks, her frustration evident as I hear the unmistakable sound of a stamping foot. “I’m not completely incompetent, you know?”

  A deep belly laugh sounds. “Oh really?” he asks, his tone mocking.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Mila’s tone is indignant this time as though she legit can’t believe her dad is questioning her.

  The laughter sounds again, echoing in the underground parking garage. “Okay,” her dad replies. “You really want to go there right now?”

  “Yeah, Dad, I really do,” comes Mila’s voice in all its stubbornness. “Do you?”

  “Do I?” the deep voice mimics. “Of course, I do. Not sure this is a battle you can win though, Mila. I mean should we start with the time you locked—”

  “Ugh, honestly. Why do you always have to bring that one up!” Mila shouts, cutting him off.

  I laugh out loud now, as I lean back against my car, arms crossed over my chest, watching the two of them attempt to negotiate who should be carrying the box all while having a discussion about something that apparently relates to Mila somehow fucking something up.

  At hearing me laugh, Mila spins around until she sees me, a look of surprise on her face as her jaw drops open. I smirk at her as she stares across the small parking garage at me, eyes wide in confusion as she turns to her dad and then back to me again.

  “Can I help?” I ask, giving her a quick wink as I take a step toward them.

  Her eyes narrow. “What…what the fuck are you doing here?” she asks, and I can’t tell if she’s confused or annoyed or maybe both.

  “Mila!” her dad half shouts, clearly frustrated and annoyed. “Do you really have to speak like that?”

  She rolls her eyes now, not bothering to look away as she gestures toward me. “Dad, this is Adam. Adam, this is my dad, obviously.”

  My grin widens as I turn toward the older guy holding a box full of stuff that looks kind of heavy. “Hey Mr. Collins, nice to meet you. Can I help with this?”

  Her dad gives me a strange look, which is hardly surprising given I apparently know both his daughter and his name, as his eyes shoot quickly to Mila before moving back to me. “Do I know you?” It’s not asked with malice, more like confusion, as though he’s wondering if we’ve met before. Then again, he could just be wondering what my accent is. Who knows?

  I shake my head as I step closer and offer to take the box from his hands. “No,” I reply. “I’m Adam Cooper, I work with Caleb and am friends with him and Ruby and…” I trail off, wondering exactly what I am to Mila. “And I know Mila too.”

  Her dad’s expression changes now, a huge smile breaking out as he practically shoves the box into my arms before turning back to the car and grabbing another one. “Fantastic, nice to meet you, Adam,” he says as he picks up the next box of stuff and starts walking toward the door that leads inside the apartment complex. “And yes, we’d love the help, thanks,” he calls back over his shoulder.

  Mila hustles over to me, her face scrunched up in confusion as she falls in step beside me and asks, “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

  I glance down at her, laughing at the expression on her face. “I live here. What are you doing here, Mila?”

  She lets out a huff, her eyes glancing quickly at her dad’s back before she answers. “I live here now too, obviously.” The last word is said with annoyed sarcasm, her arms out wide as though of course it’s obvious.

  I let out a laugh, nudging her with my elbow. “Guess we both live here then, don’t we?” I say as we walk through the door her dad just disappeared through.

  He heads toward the elevator, jamming the button with his elbow as he glares at Mila, who is now standing empty handed beside me. Mila rolls her eyes again as the doors open and the three of us get in.

  “Which apartment?” I ask, as Mila hits the button for the third floor.

  “360,” she says, arms crossed over her chest as she looks from her dad to me.

  “Huh, I’m in 357.”

  “So, we’re like neighbors?” she asks, surprised.

  I chuckle. “Actually, I’m across the hall from you.”

  “Fantastic,” her dad chimes in. “You should swap numbers. It will be good to know you have a responsible adult close by.”

  Mila shakes her head, rolling her eyes, her go-to reaction it seems as she turns to her dad. “Um, excuse me, but you don’t even know him, Dad. What makes you think he’s a responsible adult?” />
  Now it’s her dad rolling his eyes and I swear the action is so similar to the way Mila does it, I have to bite the inside of my cheek just to stop from laughing.

  “He’s friends with Caleb, he must be,” he says with a shrug, as though his reasoning is obvious.

  Mila throws her arms up and says, “Ugh, of course Caleb. The favorite.” Her tone is laced with sarcasm and annoyance and I get the feeling this isn’t the first time she’s called him out on this.

  “I don’t have favorites, Mila, you know that,” her dad says with a grin as he shoots me a sideways glance. “I love you all equally.”

  “Sure you do,” she mutters almost to herself.

  Trying to change the subject, I ask, “You living here with anyone else?”

  Mila crosses her arms over her chest, clearly annoyed as she widens her eyes at her dad as if to say, why don’t you answer him.

  Her dad laughs, clearly used to Mila’s M.O. “I mean you could try being polite,” he says to his daughter before turning back to me. “And yes, she’s living here with her friend Charlie. Also a handful,” he adds, giving Mila a wink.

  The elevator stops on her floor and her dad walks out. “Charlie, as in Charlie a guy?” I ask, turning to her.

  Mila smirks at me now. “What, you jealous?” she asks, obviously enjoying the fact that I’ve asked a question that clearly makes it look like I am.

  I scoff. “Course not, just curious.”

  “Right,” she says. “But no, not a guy. Charlie, as in short for Charlotte.”

  I smile. “Gotcha. Well, I’m just across the hall if you ever need anything.”

  Mila holds the door with an out-stretched arm as it begins to close and looks up at me. “Anything, huh?” she says with a smirk and a raised brow. “What about alcohol?”

  I chuckle as I step past her and into the hall, knowing how pissed she gets every time she comes into the bar and I refuse to serve her booze. It’s not that she doesn’t have a good fake ID, she does. It’s just that as the sister of my boss’ girlfriend, it’s a little too close to home for me to pretend not to know it’s fake and she’s underage. Well, underage in this country anyway.

  I still find the whole not being legal to drink until twenty-one thing weird. I mean why vote or join the military if you can’t have a beer, but that’s how it rolls here. I’m not about to lose my job, or worse still, mess things up for Caleb, just because Mila wants a shot of tequila or whatever.

  “We’ll see,” I tease, winking at her as I follow her dad into her apartment.

  I feel a hand slap at my back, a hissed, “We’ll see? What the hell does that mean?”

  Glancing over my shoulder, Mila is standing behind me, hands on her hips again as she glares up at me now. I laugh as I hold the box up. “Where’s this going?”

  Mila lets out a frustrated huff as she says, “Bedroom,” before storming past me.

  I follow her past the kitchen where her dad is busy unloading his box and down the short hall to a room at the back of the apartment. As I step inside, my eyes wander over the space, taking in the bay windows overlooking the campus, the large queen-size bed that sits against the far wall and the boxes of clothes and books that litter the floor.

  “Nice,” I say, as I drop the box onto the desk. “Much bigger than mine.”

  Mila smirks “Something you have to admit often?”

  “Ha ha smart arse,” I reply with a smirk.

  Mila walks over and shuts her bedroom door and leans back against it. “Listen,” she starts, holding a finger toward me. “Is it a yes or a no on the alcohol situation,’cause really, we aren’t in the bar now, so this has nothing to do with Caleb or my sister or whatever you think it is that’s stopping you from getting me booze. This is just one friend doing something for another, that’s all.”

  I chuckle, mirroring her pose as I lean back against the desk. “Friends, huh?” I tease.

  Mila’s brows narrow as she gives me a slow once over that I swear almost feels like she’s mentally undressing me. When her eyes reach mine again, she smiles, biting her bottom lip as she pushes off the door and slowly walks toward me. “Well, we could be more than friends,” she says, her fingers tracing the lines of ink on my arm.

  Her touch and her words set off a fire inside me, a fire I know I need to quench as soon as possible. It’s not that I’m not attracted to her. Hell, I’d have to be fucking blind not to like the look of her and even then, I’m pretty sure I’d still get the gist of it.

  I mean she’s this tiny firecracker of a brunette with a great set of tits, a killer body, a smart mouth and a wickedly sexy smile.

  But, she’s also Caleb’s sister-in-law, well practically anyway, and I promised him I wouldn’t fuck around with her. Well, I promised I wouldn’t serve her alcohol in the bar. I’m not actually sure we set any rules on the whole fucking part. Whatever it was, at this point I can’t actually remember what I promised him, so the safest option is to just do nothing with her. Put her firmly in the off-limits, don’t-even-go-there basket.

  Even though she is hot as fuck and so totally the type of girl I’d go for.

  And it’s not like she hasn’t tried either, flirting her arse off with me every time she came into the bar. I’d resisted anything more though. I might flirt and act the part, but what most people don’t realize is I don’t actually follow through. But even if that wasn’t the case, I still needed to say no.

  She’s a total no-go area. For so many reasons.

  “What happened to the fake ID?” I ask, still leaning back against her desk, watching her.

  “Lost it,” she groans, rolling her eyes. “Was out clubbing over New Year’s and the damn thing fell out of my bag.”

  “Bummer,” I reply with a smile.

  “Yes,” Mila says, stepping closer. “It is a bummer, which means I really do need an answer on the whole can you buy me alcohol thing.” She’s smiling up at me, a sexy as hell look on her face as she runs her fingers up my arm, tracing the lines of ink that curve around my forearm and all the way up to my bicep before disappearing under the sleeve of my shirt.

  Her touch feels like electricity, a trail of goosebumps left in its wake as she stares up at me, her beautiful brown eyes filled with hope and something else I should most definitely be worried about.

  “Pretty please?” she whispers, her voice sexy and low.

  I chuckle, uncrossing my arms as I straighten and push off her desk. “Well, seeing as you asked me so nicely,” I tease, before walking out of her room.

  Mila follows me out but doesn’t get a chance to ask me if I’m being serious, since her dad is still in the apartment. Truth be told, I’m not sure if I am serious or not. It’s not like I have this big issue with buying her alcohol. Honestly, I couldn’t give a shit. To me she isn’t underage because she’s over eighteen.

  But it’s what this arrangement might mean or imply if I do.

  I help Mila and her dad with the rest of her boxes, laughing as her dad continues to give Mila shit as we haul her stuff up to the apartment. It’s clear they are close and have a good relationship, even if her dad does seem to enjoy teasing the hell out of her.

  Mila gives him just as much shit back though and it’s very funny to watch. Kind of reminds me of the relationship I have with my dad and my brother, even if it’s not something I get to experience much anymore.

  After we’re done, her dad grabs a couple of waters from the fridge and hands me one. “Thanks for your help today, Adam,” he says, offering me a kind smile. “We’re going to meet up with the others for dinner, would you like to come along?”

  I resist the urge to glance at Mila as I ask, “Who are the others?”

  Her dad drains his water bottle before replying, “Caleb, Ruby, Mila’s mom. You’re welcome to. It’s the least we can do after you helped us out.”

  I shove a hand through my hair as I pretend to contemplate his offer. As tempting as it is,
I know my answer is going to be no. Even though I’m friends with Caleb and obviously by extension, also with Ruby and Mila, hanging out with them and their parents kind of feels like a bit too much.

  Almost like it’s a date or some family gathering or something.

  Which is so not my scene.

  Not anymore anyway.

  “Thanks,” I say, offering him a smile. “But I can’t tonight.” I make a point of looking at my watch even though I have absolutely no plans, especially with the bar being closed.

  Mila’s dad offers me a smile and a nod, thanking me again before he grabs his keys and heads to the front door of the apartment.

  Mila is still standing in the kitchen, watching me as though she’s trying to decide whether she should ask me something. Before she has a chance, I give her a smile and a wink. “Enjoy your new digs,” I say, waving an arm around her apartment. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  I don’t even know why I add the last part, I shouldn’t be encouraging anything with her, regardless of how platonic it might be.

  Before she has a chance to respond, I tip my head once and head toward the front door, not bothering to look back.

  When I get to my apartment, I close the door behind me and finally exhale a sigh of relief, falling back against the closed door as I shove both hands through my hair, gripping the back of my neck. I have no idea what possessed me to stay and help Mila move into her apartment, let alone tell her where I lived, but I’m hoping to fuck I haven’t just made a huge mistake.

  “Jesus christ,” I mutter to my empty apartment, the place barely furnished because I never stay anywhere long enough to bother. “You are an idiot, Adam,” I say to myself as I head toward the bathroom to take a shower.

  I pull off my long-sleeved shirt, throwing it on the floor as I force myself to stand in front of the mirror and take a mental inventory of all the marks I want to ignore and pretend aren’t there, even though I can’t, no matter how hard I try.

  There’s a long, jagged scar that cuts across my chest like a gouge, almost as though I’ve been split in two. It seems fitting in some ways, given everything that happened that night. On my left arm are lines of scarring around my forearm and bicep, permanent reminders of the shattered glass that impaled itself in my skin. Internally, things were broken too. Ribs, my spleen, even my liver; although in some ways it feels like the only part that truly broke was my heart. An injury that can never be fixed no matter how hard the doctors tried.