Tempted Read online

  Tempted

  Copyright © 2023 Billie Bloom

  All rights reserved

  Billiebloomromance.com

  Edited by Ann Attwood

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this e-book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Synopsis

  From New York Times bestselling author Kendall Ryan and the up-and-coming dynamo Billie Bloom comes an all-new romance with sizzling heat, found-family and what it means to truly be happy.

  Being trapped all winter in a remote Alaskan off-grid town sounds horrible, until you meet the lumber-hunks that offer to share their space with us.

  You wouldn't suspect a group of L.A. women are capable of hacking it here, but you'd be wrong.

  Turns out, we have just what this group of former military operatives need in life, and it's so much more than any of them want to admit.

  FREE BOOK ALERT!

  Before you dive into Tempted, grab a FREE steamy gay hockey romance by Billie Bloom!

  Click the image below!

  Prologue

  Jameson

  FOUR YEARS AGO

  “We’re really going home,” Henry sighs as the sun dips below the horizon. “I can’t wait to see Sarah.”

  Henry’s the only one of our squad of eight who has a woman waiting back home for him.

  We’re cramped in the back of the cargo hold, but we couldn’t care less. We’re going home.

  The words are sweet to us. Bittersweet, that is. We know what’s waiting. We’ve heard the stories. We don’t talk about it, but we know. It’s going to be hard for my guys to adjust to being back home, out of survival mode.

  I’ll still be in survival mode though. It comes with the territory. Quite literally. Port Providence, Alaska is a brutal place to live, which is why there’s less than a hundred of us left.

  I’ve lived there my whole life. My dad has too. There are not many folks there who can say the same. It’s sort of a place for outcasts. That makes me a perfect fit. Hell, it’d make my whole squad a perfect fit.

  “I can’t wait to take a hot shower and sleep in my bed,” Tucker sighs. He’s the most privileged of us all, you might say. He grew up wealthy in a well-adjusted family. Still has a room in their mansion back in Cape Cod. You’d never know that about him though. He’s not at all spoiled. Just a real genuine sweet guy. He may be the only one who can properly process his emotions.

  “What about you, JP?” Tucker asks. The two have been inseparable for the past eight years. Hell, they even slept leaning back-to-back some nights, like that scene in Forrest Gump. We’re all close in the squad, but not like JP and Tuck.

  “You know I’ve paid to keep up my ma’s old trailer. Been renting it out, but the renter left a few days ago, so we’ll see what shape it’s in.” JP shrugs it off. He doesn’t need much, that guy. He could make soup with stones, and you’d swear it was the best thing you ever tasted.

  “Surely you have saved enough to get a different place?” West asks. He’s always had a lot to say about everything. If West won an award out of the eight of us, it’d be most likely for complaining about anything and everything. If he was a fish, he’d complain about water.

  “Do you not know JP?” Teddie scoffs. “Ignore him, bro. It’s awesome that you’re going back to your roots. Wish I could.”

  We all get quiet for a minute, because we know Teddie has no roots. He was homeless as a teenager. Never told us anything about his past. He claims he can’t remember.

  “Bro, come home to my spot anytime,” JP offers. The pair share a hearty hand clasp in solidarity.

  “That’s true of all of us, Ted. If you want to come to the middle of nowhere Alaska and live with me, you are welcome,” I offer. “Hell, any and all of you come. If anything gets tough or you just need a break.”

  “Doesn’t it cost like thousands of dollars to charter a helicopter to your spot?” Henry asks.

  “You call me if that happens, I’m good for it,” Tucker offers.

  “What else you going to do with that trust fund?” West grumbles.

  “Don’t listen to him. It’s awesome you got folks who set you up. Don’t you feel bad about that,” I remind Tucker, not that I need to. He knows it. “And for the record, if you split it a few ways and find the pilots on the right day, you can get the ride for a few hundred.”

  “This is so weird.” JP shakes his head. “I should have re-upped.”

  A chorus of agreement rings out. Not that any of us really mean it. We’re all tired and ready to move on to what’s next in life, even if next sort of feels like going backwards for most of us.

  Chapter 1

  Jolie

  The helicopter sets us down in a clearing and we offload heavy boxes of camera equipment, securing our backpack straps firmly across our chests. The icy wind reminds me that winter is approaching quickly in Alaska, even if it’s technically still fall. We say thank you and share a hug with Dale and Kate Westover, the husband-and-wife pilot crew who saw us through this last, six bumpy hours, leg of our journey. After a quick wave, our ride is gone, making their way back to civilization. Or rather, Juneau with its population around thirty thousand or so. The five of us form a unicorn… an all-female film production crew. In my years of filming around L.A., it’s never been all women. It’s a cool feeling. And in this moment, we are officially on the job in Port Providence, Alaska. A huge smile overtakes my face. I love the start of a new adventure.

  It’s mid-October and we only have a few weeks of reliable weather to shoot. This is the perfect escape at the perfect time, since my ex-fiancé is back in L.A., currently moving out of our apartment, and in with his new model girlfriend. Not that I’ll let myself cry anymore over it. He wasn’t worth my time. I’ll just have to keep telling myself that.

  We all stare a beat at our stunning surroundings. As the helicopter sound fades in the distance, the light breeze, birds chirping, and water lapping at the edge of the cliff line all register. It’s one of those ethereal moments in a documentary where we’d pump some loud inhale-exhale sound effects, panning the camera in slow motion to emphasize the shocking beauty of this place. Rugged and unfriendly as hell, with a variety of ways to kill you, but stunning nonetheless.

  “It’s colder than a witch’s titty out here,” Chloe says in her loud, throaty voice, and we all laugh. She’s our creative director and we can always count on her to say something brassy.

  “Friend, you are not wrong,” my little sister Evie agrees as she zips her waterproof coat up to her chin. It’s so cool having her here with me. She’s been around L.A. a few weeks now and has taken to professional filming like a duck to water.

  “Move out,” Chloe shouts. Just like that, our spell is broken, and we’re on the move.

  “Should we be filming this part?” Naomi asks. Ever practical Naomi. Never good for a laugh, but always good for getting the job done efficiently. Bless her.

  Beth, resident-in-chief of us-not-getting-our-asses-handed-to-us when we
do remote nature documentaries like this one, has the final say in our planning. “No time. We need to get to our spot by dark and it’s still a long hike.”

  It doesn’t matter that this is my fourth time filming somewhere inhospitable, I never quite get used to hiking—Yosemite, Joshua Tree, Death Valley, Big Sur—they have been experiences of a lifetime. And I love nature, don’t get me wrong. I even run somewhat regularly. Heck, I can go five miles on a good day. But hiking out in nature… it’s just a definite no for me. Even more so when I’m carrying thirty pounds of gear and don’t really know where I’m going.

  After an hour and half later, my feet are blistering. “Damn these new boots. Are we getting close, Beth?”

  She holds out her compass and looks around. “Umm…”

  “Told you not to buy new boots,” Evie harps at me. “Regular sneakers are always best for hiking. You tried to get too fancy with it.”

  “Not helping, Evie. Beth?” I ask more urgently. “That um was not reassuring. Are we lost?”

  “Course not. We’re definitely somewhere in the remote Alaskan wilderness. Only trouble is, I’m starting to wonder where exactly.”

  “Fucking chopper landing pad. Why does it have to be so far from town?” Naomi complains, tossing her bag to the ground. “And why are there so many hills? Who lives somewhere like this?”

  “It’s an inhospitable place to live, Naomi. That’s what makes it so good for TV,” Chloe clarifies.

  Frustration punches through me, but at least I’m managing my reaction, unlike some of us. Not that I blame her. We definitely don’t want to be lost in the wilderness. I’m not trying to film my own version of Naked and Afraid.

  Chloe walks over and puts her arm around Naomi in an attempt to calm our normally chill resident grump. “We got this. Just like always. Even if we’re freezing our nuts off.”

  Naomi rolls her eyes. Thankfully none of us actually has nuts. Unpleasant things if you ask me.

  “It’s getting dark,” Evie points out as we stand in the middle of nowhere, proverbial dicks in hand.

  Beth hikes up her backpack higher on her shoulders. “Dudes, we got this. Get your headlamps on. We can’t be much farther from the town. The houses are all right along the water and I can still hear the waves hitting the rocks. We got this.” Her words are reassuring, even if her tone wobbles a bit. It’s not like we have a choice, there is no flat land here to use for tents, and we especially don’t want to be far from town in grizzly bear country. We have to keep going.

  Trudging on as the sun starts to glow orange, we’re all sweaty-exhausted-stomach-rumbling, sleep-deprived messes. Finally, Evie’s little squeal puts new pep in our step. “A light!” She points ahead and sure enough, through the trees, in the not-too-distant distance is a light. Hope blooms in my chest.

  “Thank fuck,” Chloe laughs and she shake’s Naomi’s backpack.

  Naomi groans. “Settle, woman.”

  Chloe and Evie don’t settle though. Instead, they break off at a jog, despite the fact that we’re all carrying about fifty pounds of gear, give or take.

  Beth, Naomi, and I work to keep up to them on this way-too-long hike.

  As the trees thin the salty smell of the ocean greets my nostrils. The wind out here is whipping fiercely and the cold stings my cheeks.

  “Which genius picked this location again?” Chloe chuckles.

  “You did,” I remind her with a frown.

  “Right. Right. Huge mistake,” Chloe concludes. “Next year, we’re filming on a tropical island. Preferably somewhere with fruity drinks and those little umbrella straws.”

  I snort. I do badly need a vacation, but that would require more zeroes in my bank account than I currently possess. We walk on quickly along the cliff line toward the single point of light in a sea of blackness.

  “Here’s our spot,” Beth announces as we all stop. Finally, we drop the hundred pounds or so of gear we’re each carrying.

  The spotlights from our headlamps dance around taking inventory.

  “It kind of feels a little exposed right here. Is it just me?” Evie looks around.

  “Best not to overthink it,” Chloe pats my sister’s shoulder.

  Beth just shrugs. “Let’s get the tents set up.”

  We each work quickly and within a few minutes, five tents form a circle.

  “Please, tell me we can start a fire,” Naomi asks as she sinks to the ground and pulls out a granola bar from her pocket.

  “If you have any more food, it must go in a bear box. I’ll be stringing it up soon. And, no fires. It’s too dark to be poking around for firewood. Let’s get some sleep and we’ll situate better in the morning,” Beth decides. We should be warm enough for the night, even if a fire does sound wonderful, Beth is right, we’re all too tired to deal with looking for firewood.

  After a short ordeal, everyone zips themselves into their tents and I easily fall into an exhausted sleep. Thankfully, the production crew sent us with sub-zero gear made for arctic conditions.

  When I blink awake it feels closer to morning, but it’s still dark out. I want to sleep more, but my bladder is protesting. I make my way far from the tents, back up the tree-covered hill, because privacy for this task is a must.

  It’s quiet, but my ears perk at every little scurry sound, every little rustle and snap. When I find the perfect secluded place, I pull down my pants, ass out in the freezing morning air. The only sound I hear next is the sound of my own stream, live and unbound in Mother Nature. That, and a wolf whistle. Not an actual wolf, but like a person making a cat call to someone to get their attention. Then as my head snaps up to the sound, my headlamp hits him, a man, standing about twenty feet away, watching me pee.

  “Fuck,” I shout in response, jumping up at the sight of the unexpected, effectively peeing on my own pants before I can cut off the stream. I stumble forward a few feet and then my ankle rolls and I’m on the ground, landing across a log that bangs hard into my ribs.

  I groan and cough to catch my breath, and yeah, my ass is still exposed. Talk about a full white moon.

  The man chuckles as he crunches over to me. “You okay?”

  “Please, look away,” I groan, and tug my pants, which only makes me yelp harder. I must have fucked up my wrist too. “Delete all the images from your brain.”

  “I mean, I can walk away if you want. Or, I can help you.” His deep voice rumbles over the words, and even though he scared the pee out of me, or rather scared the pee back in me, his voice sounds friendly. “But this isn’t something I’m going to easily forget.”

  “Okay. Please, help me. Just let me right myself. You work on quickly acquiring a rare form of short-term amnesia, deal?”

  He laughs. “Deal. I’m Jameson, by the way.”

  “Jolie.” I groan my name as I shift onto my bare ass, which is very cold on the ground, for the record.

  Jameson’s eyes meet mine for the first time and I really look at him. He’s muscular and easily six feet tall. His eyes are golden brown, and he has a thick beard that matches his jet-black hair. He’s rugged A.F. Definitely not the pretty-boy type I’m used to in L.A. No overly-waxed eyebrows or Botox here. Jameson is all man. All natural. Forehead creases and rough skin. And he’s still staring at me.

  I reach down to my waistband, but there’s a pain in my wrist. There’s no way I’m getting these up on my own. “I hate to ask, but um, can you pull up my pants for me?”

  He shakes his head as if shaking out a thought. Hopefully, it’s the memory of me peeing on myself and mooning him. A girl can hope.

  “On it.” He reaches to my hips and tugs so hard that he actually pulls me straight up off the ground, by the pants. Who knew my pants were so strong. I should write to Columbia and thank them for the top-notch stitching. My pants effectively do go up though, so there’s that. Then, he’s just holding me up by my pants…

  “I’d say put me down, but I’m not sure if I can put weight on my ankle,” I tell him with a forced
laugh. I sound downright deranged.

  Without another word, he smoothly scoops me up in his arms. Suddenly, we’re face to face, and I can smell him. He smells like mint toothpaste, and woodsy, and sexy mountain man, whatever the hell that means.

  “Hey,” I say, my breath temporarily stolen by the hot lumbersexual holding me like a baby.

  “Are your pants wet?” he asks in reply.

  “What?” I say, blinking at him dumbly, remembering that of course they are wet. Apparently, my wishes have only led to me getting amnesia. Shit.

  “Your pants. They feel… wet,” he says with a frown.

  I close my eyes and purse my lips. “That might be pee,” I admit, then I open one eye to gauge his reaction.

  Thankfully, there is a smile on his face. “Sounds about right.”