Caught Up in the Touch: Sweet Home Alabama Read online

  Caught Up in the Touch

  Sweet Home Alabama

  Laura Trentham

  Contents

  Blurb

  Also by Laura Trentham

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Melting Into You

  Melting Into You Excerpt

  Also by Laura Trentham

  About the Author

  Warning: Contains explosive chemistry, lots of laughs, and a leap into the crazy unknown.

  On the surface Logan Wilde is all good-old-boy charm and humor. Even though he’s cleaned up his act and turned into an upstanding business owner, he can't seem to outrun his hell-raising reputation. When a straightlaced executive with long legs and high heels rolls into town to lure him to the big city, he’s tempted to get a little wild—and bring her along on the ride.

  Three rules govern Jessica Montgomery’s life—stay calm, stay professional, stay in control. Her dream job of CFO of the family business is within reach—if she can convince one sexy, stubborn Alabama restaurateur that his dream job is managing their flagship restaurant in Atlanta.

  Desperate to convince Logan to sign on the dotted line, Jessica is forced out of her comfort zone and into Logan’s world of serene forests, high school football, and a close-knit small town. While she can’t quite close the deal, a new offer is on the table that includes steamy nights in Logan’s bed (and other places) and the possibility of a lasting love—if Jessica is brave enough to chase a new dream.

  Opposites attract when a former bad boy with a heart of gold meets a straightlaced woman with passion to spare in this sexy addition to the small town Sweet Home Alabama series.

  Also by Laura Trentham

  Sweet Home Alabama Novels

  Slow and Steady Rush, Book 1

  Caught Up in the Touch, Book 2

  Melting Into You, Book 3

  Historical Romance

  Spies and Lovers

  An Indecent Invitation Book 1

  A Brazen Bargain, Book 2

  A Reckless Redemption, Book 3

  A Sinful Surrender, Book 4

  A Wicked Wedding, Book 5

  A Daring Deception, Book 6 (Coming Soon)

  Contemporary Romance

  Highland, Georgia Novels

  A Highlander Walks Into a Bar, Book 1

  A Highlander in a Pickup, Book 2

  A Highlander is Coming to Town, Book 3

  Heart of a Hero Novels

  The Military Wife

  An Everyday Hero

  Cottonbloom Novels

  Kiss Me That Way, Book 1

  Then He Kissed Me, Book 2

  Till I Kissed You, Book 3

  Christmas in the Cop Car, Novella 3.5

  Light Up the Night, Novella 3.75

  Leave the Night On, Book 4

  When the Stars Come Out, Book 5

  Set the Night on Fire, Book 6

  I love to hear from readers! Come find me:

  [email protected]

  www.LauraTrentham.com

  Sign up for Laura’s Newsletter

  Join Laura’s Facebook Squad

  Follow Laura on Facebook or Twitter

  Follow me on Bookbub to be notified of new releases/sales

  Follow me on Amazon to be notified of new releases

  1

  Richmond, Virginia, August

  “I want Logan Wilde in the Atlanta restaurant as our lead chef as soon as humanly possible. I don’t care how, but make sure you bag him one way or another. Let’s face it, darling, you have a couple of weapons no one else at the table is in possession of.” Reginald Montgomery made vague hand motions at his chest before sliding a manila folder across the table.

  Uncomfortable male laughter pinged around the conference table.

  Jessica Montgomery wasn’t laughing. In fact, she had difficulty maintaining the cutting stare she’d perfected since moving into the executive tier of the family company. Her father leaned back in his plush leather office chair, while everyone else sat in straight-back wooden chairs like low-class serfs.

  The challenge in his eyes bored a hole through her head. To control the urge to throw the file in her father’s face and storm out, she imagined an anvil falling through the ceiling and landing on him in the manner of Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. Unfortunately, she felt like the unlucky, slightly pathetic coyote always being outmaneuvered.

  Silence stretched. Chairs filled with Montgomery Industries executives squeaked. She frantically searched for a witty retort. Her mouth opened, but nothing emerged. No doubt, the perfect comeback would pop into her head ten minutes from now. The shark behind Reginald Montgomery’s good-old-boy façade bared his teeth and swept his gaze around the table, delighting in the blood in the water and casting about for his next victim.

  “Jessica knows I’m joking. My girl learned how to manipulate and negotiate from me.” He pointed in her direction. “You have two weeks to get the contract signed. Now, Potter, give me the rundown on our DC restaurant.”

  A bead of sweat trickled out of Potter’s thinning hairline, and he brushed it away with the back of his hand. Montgomery’s lips twitched. He enjoyed making his employees squirm, his daughter included. She suspected her father’s favorite hobby as a child had been to catch butterflies and pin their wings to cardboard, delighting in the insects’ struggles against his superiority. Come to think of it, wasn’t that the mark of a sociopath?

  Normally any mention of Montgomery Industries financials had her sitting up and taking notes. After all, she needed to know the bottom line down to the decimal point if she was to earn the promotion to CFO. But the folder in her hands piqued her curiosity.

  Vaguely listening to her father put Potter through his version of the Spanish Inquisition, she flipped open the portfolio on Logan Wilde. An article from a recent issue of Southern Living was on top. The grainy black-and-white picture showed a man in khaki pants and a dark button-down directing traffic in a spacious stainless steel kitchen. The frenetic energy of a typical restaurant kitchen came through in the picture, but she couldn’t tell much about the man except that he was trim, had short dark hair, and a clean-cut profile.

  Southern Living had deemed Logan Wilde an emerging talent in nouveau Southern cuisine. No culinary school was listed. An oversight, or was he self-taught? His restaurant, Adaline’s, was located in Falcon, Alabama, with a population of 10,000. How did such a small town support high-end dining?

  The article went on to gush about his welcoming eyes and dedication to his grandmother’s memory. Seeing that the writer bequeathed him the title of sexiest restaurateur in America, Jessica checked the byline and wasn’t shocked to see a woman’s name. She rolled her eyes and snorted.

  “Did you have something to add, Jessica?” her father asked.

  She popped her head up to find everyone looking in her direction. Potter’s eyes begged her to put him out of his misery. She leaned over the table and stared at her father. “Actually, yes. Potter’s initial figures match up perfectly with the estimates we’ve received. You’re the one who insisted he red
uce by twenty percent to satisfy investors, so it’s no surprise we’re over budget. And, it’s not Potter’s fault.”

  Someone to her right gasped. She didn’t turn to see who, but everyone between her and her father shrank back in their chairs, out of firing range.

  “Meeting’s over,” he murmured.

  Chairs scraped, papers rustled, conversations buzzed. Jessica gathered the folder and was half-standing when her father said, “Stay Jessica.”

  Feeling a like a misbehaving dog, she plopped back into her seat. If only she could play dead.

  Avoiding her father’s glare, Jessica opened the portfolio and flipped the thin magazine page over, but the back featured a restaurant in Charleston. The next sheet detailed the financial offers her father had already made. As expected, the first one had been insultingly low. The next one had been higher, but it was rejected over the phone. Montgomery’s final offer was substantial enough to raise her eyebrows, but it too had been rejected, this time in person.

  Jessica’s snigger was mean-spirited and satisfying. Her father must have been livid. The conference room door swung shut, leaving them alone. A small amount of glee she couldn’t suppress lilted her words. “He rejected you.”

  “A temporary setback. You’re going to head to Alabama to sweeten the deal.”

  “You seriously expect me to . . . what? Flirt and coo while I slide him the contract? He’ll be so distracted by my beauty”—she shot the word with sarcasm—“that he won’t know what he’s signing? Please.”

  “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

  Had her father expressed actual approval? Her breath caught, and she couldn’t stem a small smile even as she cursed herself for exposing a weakness.

  “Granted, you aren’t the beauty queen your sister is, but when you fix yourself up, you’re not bad.”

  The pseudo-compliment gouged the wound in her heart a fraction deeper. She hated that her father still had such power over her. “He doesn’t want the job. Find someone who does. It won’t be difficult with the kind of money you’re offering.”

  “Not an option. I need him.”

  She tried to catch her father’s eyes, but he kept his gaze down, picking lint off the sleeve of his jacket. “Need,” not “want.” A faint alarm sounded in her head, but she didn’t have time to pinpoint why. Her father went on the offensive.

  “I don’t appreciate you calling into question my decisions during meetings, Jessica.”

  “I don’t appreciate you making misogynistic jokes at my expense. How am I supposed to gain respect when you belittle me?”

  “You need to toughen up, girl. This is a hard business run by men. If you can’t take a little joke, you’re not cut out for the boardroom. Maybe you belong in a smaller kitchen.” His eyebrows rose along with the corners of his mouth. He’d thrown out the bait he knew she couldn’t resist.

  “We aren’t living in the fifties, old man. There are women CEOs and world leaders . . . what are you going to do if our next president is a woman? Tell her to bring you some coffee?”

  “If you want to sit on Montgomery’s board as CFO, you have to prove you’re the best person for the job. I sure as shit won’t have anyone accusing me of nepotism.”

  “No, just harassment. Of your own daughter, I might add. If I manage to get Logan Wilde to accept this job, everyone will assume I slept with him. And for goodness sake, quit calling me ‘girl’ at work. You are such a—”

  A slew of epitaphs rolled through her head. He’d respect her more if she let them fly. But while her father had taught her how to make deals and negotiate, her mother had insisted she be schooled in the vanishing art of being a lady, which included refraining from vulgarities.

  “—pig,” she finished weakly.

  Her father’s eyes narrowed, and his upper lip rose in a slight snarl. He’d only been toying with her like a trapped butterfly. Now that he decided to rip her wings off, his dark-gray eyes went from hot coal to hard slate. “Let me put this another way. Get Logan Wilde to accept my offer or the CFO job is off the table for the foreseeable future.”

  “That’s not fair!” The whine of her voice tossed her back into the trials of her childhood. The high heel of her shoe tapped against the wooden leg of her chair, and she slumped forward. How had everything gone to hell with a single conversation?

  The calm voice of her therapist tried to insert itself into the tornado of her resentment. Deep breaths; let logic rule, not emotions; stay in control. The words swirled and retreated out of reach.

  “Life isn’t fair, it’s work, girl. The only way you’re moving up in my company is if you make deals. So get to making one. Nearest airport is Birmingham. I expect a report by the end of the week. Or sooner.”

  Jessica’s mouth opened to offer an argument, or maybe an insult. She wasn’t sure which would have popped out. Not giving her a chance, her father stalked out the door and left her sitting in the conference room alone.

  It didn’t matter that she was almost thirty, a 4.0 graduate of the Wharton School of Business, and the youngest executive at Montgomery Industries, childish tears sprang to her eyes. She didn’t know if she was madder at her father or at her own lack of gumption. He was right. She didn’t deserve to be CFO, because she wasn’t tough enough.

  Muffled laughter came from the hallway. Two men from the meeting walked by with Styrofoam cups of coffee. Both glanced in her direction. Were they laughing at her?

  She flipped back to the magazine article and pretended to study it. A few blinks cleared her vision, and after several deep, practiced breaths, a calm, icy control descended, smothering her out-of-control emotions.

  Logan Wilde had obviously charmed the pants off the writer—maybe literally—which hinted at a smarmy businessman interested in publicity, yet he’d turned her father’s generous offer down. Reginald Montgomery was both intimidating and persuasive, often at the same time. A potent combination. How was she to succeed where her father had failed?

  Yet, if she did succeed, the dream job he continuously dangled just out of reach would be hers. Her pride urged her to march into her father’s office and tell him to shove it where the sun don’t shine, but logic applied the salve.

  If she quit Montgomery Industries, it would take years in another company to reach the position she currently held. Her mother would throw an epic hissy fit before pointing out the two pounds Jessica had gained since the last time she’d been home.

  Her sister Caroline would shake her head so the hundred-dollar blowout to her perfectly honeyed blonde hair showed to its full advantage while still conveying disappointment. Not a hint of family scandal could attach itself to the Montgomery name while Caroline’s husband Mitch made his bid for the Senate.

  Her thoughts moved forward. Falcon was a three hour drive from Atlanta. She’d drive from Richmond and dip through the red-clay plains of southern Georgia, where she’d spent part of her childhood summers. She’d visit her ma-maw’s old house and take some flowers to her grave. Lord knows, her father never bothered to pay his respects to his mother. Then she’d head to Falcon, Alabama, and do her best to convince Logan Wilde his dream job awaited in Atlanta.

  She would play her father’s games, but she’d play her way.

  * * *

  “Sorry I had to call you back early, Coach. That stove is a beast. I was afraid I’d screw things up if I tried to fix it.” The boy rocked back and forth on his feet and wrung a bar towel in his big hands.

  “I’m not your coach when you’re working at Adaline’s. Call me Logan.”

  Scott Larkin, one of the Falcon football team’s rising-senior linemen, gave him a shy smile, draped the towel over his shoulder, and filled a glass with ice from behind the bar. “It’s weird to call a grown-up by their first name.”

  Damn. Was that what he was now? A grown-up? He supposed at thirty-one, he finally qualified. “Mr. Wilde, if you must, but I’m fine with Logan.”

  Logan killed the sweet tea Scott slid across the bar in
half a dozen swallows. He tapped his glass, and the boy refilled it from a sweating pitcher and offered a bar towel. Rubbing his sweat-streaked face and down the two-week’s growth of beard, he smeared grease over the white cotton.

  August in Alabama felt like the pits of hell. Another trickle of sweat snaked from his temple into his beard, and he scratched at the coarse hair running down his neck. Strike that, continue south past the pits of hell and keep on going until the heat incinerated you to ash and the humidity clogged your lungs, making each breath an effort. That was August in Alabama during a heat wave.

  “How’d you make out?” Scott asked.

  “Unearthed four sounders of wild pigs. Less than last summer. I think we’re finally getting the upper hand.” He’d spent over a week in solitude, wandering from camp to camp, hunting the ferocious pigs that had invaded the river bottoms. He’d been alone, but not lonely.

  The rhythm of the woods was written in Logan’s DNA, and he moved instinctively, cutting through the forest, leaving man-made trails behind. Once he’d lost his human scent, he’d almost become a wild creature himself. The wind spoke to him through the trees, and he’d come across deer, raccoons, squirrels, and birds. A copperhead slithered across his path, and he’d only tipped his hat in deference to its dominance.

  Eventually, reality intruded. Robbie Dalton, his cousin-in-law and Falcon’s head football coach, had joined him for the last two days of the hunt. The football season was starting soon, and their quiet hunting time was interspersed with discussions of lineups and strategy.