Turn Me On Read online

  Turn Me On

  Jeannette Winters

  Copyright © 2019 by Jeannette Winters

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Jeannette Winters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Also by Jeannette Winters

  By Jeannette Winters & Lena Lane

  Jeannette Winters

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to Robin, a beautiful person inside and out and don't ever forget it!!!!!

  * * *

  And also thank you to my editor Taryn Lawson, and to Jade Webb at https://meetcutecreative.com/ for another amazing cover!

  To my readers who continue to inspire me with endless messages and kind words. Always make time for romance

  Turn Me On

  Samuel had his own successful business to run and working in Maine as an electrician once a month wasn’t in the plan. He’d made a promise to his father to help out until the town found a replacement, but were they really even looking? Maine might have the best lobster around, but he liked his life in Boston. The people of Tremont needed to learn to live without him.

  * * *

  Robin missed Chicago. Each night as she sat on the porch, she heard nothing but…silence. It was fine in small doses, but there was no way Tremont was the new location for her tattoo parlor. If they didn’t run her out of town, she probably was going to run on her own. She needed some excitement in her life.

  * * *

  When what she needs comes knocking on her door, she mistakenly thinks he’s someone else. With a few choice words, she sends him away. But is Samuel that easily turned off or is he what turns her on?

  1

  People were so mistaken if they thought inheriting a house didn’t come with its share of problems. Robin Charleston had been surprised when a lawyer reached out to her with the news. She’d never even met her great-aunt Ester. Well, at least not in person.

  As she made her way through the house again, she couldn’t help but be a bit creeped out. Everywhere she turned, there was another one. Robin never had considered herself to be afraid of clowns, but she might be developing a phobia now.

  As she picked up another porcelain figurine, she shook her head. “Oh Aunt Ester, I think this was your whole life.” Her father had told her stories about how Ester had run away from home and joined the circus. She had never believed it, until now. Aunt Ester’s parents had been circus clowns too, yet forbade her to do the same. Obviously that worked about as well then as it does now.

  Robin hadn’t followed her parents’ advice either. They wanted her to be doctor. She had tried doing things their way, even earned her bachelor’s in science. But she met Paul, fell in love, and he wanted her to be home. Probably where he could keep an eye on her. She’d been young and thought it was romantic. Eventually the fairytale ended. Her eyes were open. Paul was passionate about only one thing: doing drugs.

  With her divorce decree in hand, she opted to follow her heart. Hence why Robin now owned a tattoo parlor. See Mom, it always could’ve been worse. I’m not going to be an old spinster living in the shadow of what was.

  At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Her parents were disappointed in her lifestyle. They were somehow under the impression that running a tattoo shop meant she was linked to drugs and gangs. Robin ran a professional shop. Each employee was licensed and insured. She fought hard to maintain her spotless reputation.

  No matter how hard she worked at it, times had changed and bills outweighed her income. Closing the doors on her shop felt like shutting the doors on her dream. And here she was, living in a house that she had no connection to.

  Yet the more she had looked through her aunt’s things, the more she’d found they were similar. Neither of them lived their lives by anyone else’s rules. Good for you, Aunt Ester. Now Robin was left wishing she had gotten to meet her. I bet you were one hot ticket.

  Placing the clown back on the mantel, Robin wandered through the house again. Was she hoping to see something that she loved so much she couldn’t part with? In a way, because they meant so much to Ester, they meant something to her. She found a few items, mostly photos of her aunt dressed for work, and put them away as keepsakes.

  Although she was torn about doing so, Robin had placed an ad in the local newspaper a few days ago hoping to get lucky. There had to be a collector out there who would appreciate their home looking like a clown museum.

  After a few very strange phone inquiries, Robin decided that wasn’t the way to handle this either. Until she could come up with a more permanent plan, it looked like she’d be living amongst red noses, oversized shoes, and extremely colorful wigs. Robin loved bright, shiny, and colorful, but this wasn’t exactly the same thing.

  The truth was, the memorabilia wasn’t the only thing wrong with the place. The lawn hadn’t been touched in ages and the weeds actually might have become small trees. She would get around to clearing that too. Thankfully the neighbors hadn’t complained about it, which was shocking. They all had such pristine properties. Aunt Ester’s, now hers, didn’t fit that description at all. If anything it looked as though it had been uprooted and dropped in there.

  Guess we’re a fit then. That’s exactly how she felt as well. But Robin never stayed down long. She was already mapping her way out of this situation. Six months and she’d be back on her feet, better than ever. Just not living here.

  Robin needed another coffee badly. With all the stuff her aunt had, Robin found it funny that none if it was what most considered necessities, like a TV, microwave, and coffee pot. Robin could live without two of those things, but coffee was a vital part of her life. She enjoyed her push-button machine, the one luxury that she’d allowed herself to purchase since moving in.

  Placing the coffee pod inside, she pressed and waited. The heavenly scent quickly filled the air. Island coconut take me away. Robin loved her flavored coffee, but took it black. Which was a good thing when watching expenses. Every penny she could squeeze out over the next few months was going right back into her future. If all else fails, she could always sell the house. At least that decision could wait a while.

  As she grabbed her coffee cup and headed to her bedroom, she caught some movement out of the hallway window. What the heck! She couldn’t believe some jerk had the nerve to be prowling around her back yard. The guy probably thought by the looks of the place, that it had been abandoned after her aunt’s passing. Well, he was in for a shock.

  Robin put her mug down on a clear spot on an end table and stormed towards the back door. Before she could even open it, there was a knock. Ripping
it open, she snarled, “Can I help you?” The guy looked her over and seemed surprised to see her there.

  “I can tell your box hasn’t been serviced in a long time. But lady, your bush is really overgrown. If you’d like I’ll give you a free trimming. It’s your box, but I can only service you properly if I have clear access. What do you say? Are you interested?”

  Interested? She was freaking blown away by how ballsy the guy was. Even in the city this crap never happened to her. And if anyone, even a customer in her shop, had spoken to her like that, she’d have tossed them out on their ass.

  “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but trust me, even if my box needed servicing, it wouldn’t be from you.”

  The guy looked appalled by her statement and said gruffly, “Lady, I’m the best in town. If you want references, I can get them. But hey, it’s your box, do what you want with it.”

  Robin slammed the door and flipped the deadbolt. What an arrogant ass. This sure wasn’t how she thought she’d start her day, but she had to admit, it broke up some of the boredom. But damn, did she look that hard-up that strangers were going to be knocking on her door? Didn’t people welcome new neighbors with a baked pie anymore? When did offering sex become acceptable?

  As she grabbed her coffee and once again headed to her bedroom, she could only imagine what Aunt Ester would’ve said if she’d been the one to answer the door. Laughing she said, “Maybe next time I’ll answer the door in one of her outfits and see what he has to say about my bush then.”

  * * *

  Samuel Kurrasa walked around the house and got back into his truck. Granted, he hadn’t met everyone in Tremont yet, but he would’ve remembered that woman. The combination of her feisty retort, and that bright red, short and half-spiked red hair, there was no way she’d always been here. She sure as hell wasn’t one of the locals. Then again, neither was he. But at least he looked like he could blend in.

  Damn, I’m starting to sound like my dad. His father had grown up here, but moved away for college and unfortunately only returned occasionally for vacation. Sam had hated coming here as a teenager. Like most, he wanted to hang with his friends and raise hell like everyone else on school break. Instead he’d been stuck here, where he swore you could hear the grass grow, and everyone talked about fishing. Since he was interested in neither, he’d been viewed as an outcast. Funny how things changed when the only master electrician retired, and he was now the replacement.

  But his family was from Tremont, and his grandfather had been the last one not only to live here, but to work there as well. And now I get to pick up the slack since he retired to Florida. It wasn’t a bad gig. It got him out of Boston one week a month. But being the only licensed master electrician in Tremont wasn’t always easy.

  People in Tremont usually waited till things were a freaking hot mess before calling him. Some even had been out of power for days before he was able to get to them. When he asked why they didn’t tell him how critical it was, they always had the same response. “I knew you’d come when you could.”

  He’d given up trying to change how they handled things. The fast-paced, now-or-never lifestyle of Boston, didn’t apply here. Of course none of that explained that woman’s reaction to him. It was…beyond strange. She’d called him a few months back and asked him for a quote. She had said there was no rush, that she only wanted to update her electrical from a fuse box to a circuit breaker. If she’d changed her mind, all she had to do was call and cancel. Flipping out and slamming a door in his face was a bit much. Then again, nothing about her seemed to be as he expected.

  He had no idea why he thought she’d be an older woman. He tried recalling what he could about their prior conversation, but nothing really stood out. Maybe it was because she’d been a talker and he had been in the middle of a job. Sam had mastered pretending to listen, when he wasn’t. This might very well be what had happened here.

  If she was actually having problems with her electrical, he’d return and offer an apology, for what, it didn’t matter. He would never leave anyone, even someone who didn’t want his help, in a dangerous situation.

  Hell, when he’d first pulled up, he thought there was no way someone was living inside. The people from Tremont might not stress about much, but damn, they spent a lot of time on the upkeep of their yards. Everyone’s lawn was cut and hedges scrupled. Sam’s gut said, her electrical might be only one thing on a very long wish list of what that place needed.

  Even though he didn’t spend all his time here, he was positive he’d have recalled crossing paths with her before. It was like she didn’t belong in this town any more than he did. Yet there was no denying it, that place wasn’t a rental. She owned it. Lucky her.

  Since Sam was the only electrician in town, eventually their paths would cross again. It was only a matter of time before that brush compromised the wiring. And when she called, he was looking forward to telling her, she should’ve let him trim her bush when she had the chance.

  Since his plans for today had gone up in smoke, he wasn’t sure what to do.

  He was here for a few more days before he needed to go back to Boston. He might as well make the most of his time. But the next job wasn’t happening until after he had a lumberjack breakfast from Dottie’s Diner. It was a treat he allowed himself every Sunday morning before his drive back to Boston. Three eggs, three sausages, three bacon, four toasts, hash browns and a stack of pancakes, which pretty much put him into a food coma. An extra cup of coffee would hopefully alleviate that problem.

  Sure enough, when he entered, Dottie shot him a look and asked, “Did you lose your calendar?”

  Sam laughed. “Nope, just a customer.” He sat at the counter instead of one of the booths. They only reminded him he was eating alone. That wasn’t always a bad thing, depending on who decided to sit beside him. Today it was the sheriff. “Morning Sheriff.”

  “Morning Sam. What’s wrong? Did you fix everyone’s electrical and now you have nothing to do like me?”

  Sam laughed. “Nothing wrong with living in a crime-free town.”

  “Unless you’re the law. Then all you do is sit around listening to people talk about the good ole days.”

  “You know, if you get bored, you can always come and give me a hand.” Joking he said, “You never know what contraband is hidden in those crawl spaces.”

  “I’m very familiar with them. Usually insects and rodents occupy those spaces. And if it’s a real bad day, it’s a skunk.”

  “We don’t need to worry about those in Boston.” The contraband, yes.

  Dottie said, “It’s been two years. Aren’t you tired of doing all that traveling? It’s a six-hour drive. You should find yourself a nice girl and settle down. If you want, I can suggest a few.” She winked at him.

  Sam rolled his eyes and the sheriff laughed. “Dottie, you’re a great cook, but you should never try matchmaking again. Do you remember what happened to the last couple?” the sheriff asked.

  She topped off his coffee and said, “They got hitched.”

  “Exactly. Ruined the guy forever.”

  Dottie looked shocked. “Been married for five years now.”

  “And he ain’t played poker on Friday night since. Now we’re short a man.” The sheriff turned to Sam and said, “I really think you should reconsider.”

  Dottie beamed. “And settle down here?”

  “No. Play poker with us.” In a low voice he added, “She doesn’t give up easy, but then again, what woman does?”

  Sam wasn’t interested in poker, marriage, or living in Tremont long term. He’d promised to fill in until they found someone who would take over permanently. He owned his own business back in Boston and both had known that. But like the sheriff said, Dottie doesn’t give up easily. But nothing could persuade me to live here full time. Nothing.

  The only reason he continued coming here once a month was because of a damn promise he’d made his father when his grandfather moved away. This pla
ce meant a lot to the family, and it was important to them to keep it as they had remembered it. But when it came to someone else picking up the slack, that was a different story. They were all married and couldn’t uproot their children from their school systems. It sounded like a lame excuse to him, and Sam knew he’d drawn the short straw. Still beats the hell out of being married. One thing Sam agreed with the sheriff on was, it changed a man, and not for the better. I’ll keep my bachelor life.

  He’d give this back and forth a few more months, and then promise or not, Tremont was on their own. If they couldn’t accept any of the candidates he brought up there, then they might just have to go without. It wasn’t critical having a licensed electrician in town, but it sure as hell was convenient. He wasn’t about to address that topic today. It wasn’t going to go anywhere anyway.

  Sam opted to subtly ask about the woman he’d just left. Without making eye contact with either he said, “I went by the Charleston place this morning. Not what I expected.”

  “Well Ester used to be a clown in the circus. I’ve been inside a few times. Ester sure was a colorful woman,” Dottie said.

  Spitfire is more like it. “A clown?”

  “That’s what Dottie said,” the sheriff replied.

  “You’re not bullshitting me are you?” Sam said jokingly.

  “Sam, I’m the law around here. I don’t lie,” the sheriff said in a serious tone, then he slapped Sam on the back. “Maybe exaggerate a bit to make life a little more interesting though. Like, have I told you about the party I broke up on the lake last Friday?” Sam shook his head. “I tell you those kids were playing their music so loud I think they could hear it two counties over. What happened to good old-fashioned skinny dipping?”