against the empty corner and then plop down on my bed. I scrub my hands over my face, and all I can think about is what I wouldn’t give for some weed to help take the edge off this situation. It’s been the only thing that’s kept my nerves calm over the last few years, since we started making music full time. People always believe being a rock star is so easy, but they have no clue just how much work goes into coming up with new material, doing appearances, and dealing with all the bullshit tasks the label makes us do. When all that piles up on a band that has the kind of turmoil we do, it’s enough to put anyone on fucking edge—which is why I don’t see why me dabbling a little hurts. I do it to stay mellow. The guys just don’t fucking get it.
I lie back on the bed and shut my eyes, suddenly tired and annoyed with the entire situation. What in the hell am I doing here? This kind of place isn’t for a guy like me.
Just as I’m about to fall asleep, someone begins to pound on my door. “Downstairs for dinner, Mr. Douglas.”
I sigh deeply. I knew that guy was going to be a pain in my ass.
“Buttons” – Pussycat Dolls
Oh shit.
Tyke Douglas is just as freaking sexy in person as he is in the damn pictures. This is so not good.
Those green eyes of his, paired with the sexy-as-sin tattoos covering his delicious forearms could get me into so much trouble.
“Sweet bejesus!” Kimmy’s voice startles me as she meets up with me on the path heading toward the cottages. “Did you get a load of that piece of man meat? I don’t think we’ve ever had anyone as fine as Tyke Douglas here before.”
I lick my lips and try to be as professional about the situation as I can, all the while pretending that my pulse isn’t still beating wildly out of control. “Yes, I guess he is quite handsome...if you’re into that whole ‘tattooed bad-boy’ thing.”
Kimmy cackles beside me. “Who isn’t into that? Any woman who says they aren’t is a damn liar. There’s no way any single woman wouldn’t take one look at that and not fantasize about screwing him seven ways ‘till Sunday. You can tell me what you really think of him—I can totally keep a secret.”
It’s tempting to gush over his hotness with Kimmy, but I know better than to let my guard down with someone I barely know. It’s too risky. If anyone ever found out exactly how attracted I am to him, I’d surely be fired on the spot.
I shrug. “Honestly, Kimmy, he isn’t my type.”
She sighs longingly next to me as she toys with a strand of her long blond hair. “If you say so, but Frannie, you are most definitely his . Did you see the way he was looking at you? I swear he was going to try to jump your bones right there in front of Timothy.”
“You saw that, too, huh?”
She nods. “I watched it all go down from the doorway as I started following you out. Be careful, girl. A woman can only resist so long when a guy like Tyke Douglas sets his sights on her. But I don’t doubt a night with him would be worth risking everything for.”
I pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I promise he has no effect on me whatsoever.”
“If you say so. I’ll see you at dinner,” she calls as she trots off toward her cabin, which is conveniently next to mine.
I hate that this is only my second day here and already I’m allowing a man to get to me. No matter how much my body may crave him, I have to fight it.
I fold my arms across my torso. “Be strong, Frannie. He’s just an absurdly sexy man. You can totally ignore that fact and remain completely professional.”
I square my shoulders, finding a new sense of self-pride as I step up on the stoop of my little cottage and unlock the door. I will not flush my job down the drain over a handsome face and a seriously toned body. There’s too much riding on me getting my act straight just to piss away my very first job opportunity. This job has to work. It’s all part of my plan to become a better
Sarah Castille
Marguerite Kaye
Mallory Monroe
Ann Aguirre
Ron Carlson
Linda Berdoll
Ariana Hawkes
Jennifer Anne
Doug Johnstone
John Steinbeck, Richard Astro