All Tied Up

  All Tied Up

  Cathryn Fox

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Afterword

  All Worked Up

  About Cathryn Fox

  Also by Cathryn Fox

  Copyright

  Copyright 2017 by Cathryn Fox

  Published by Cathryn Fox

  Formerly published with Samhain Publishing

  * * *

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Without limiting the rights under 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 both the copyright owner and the above publisher 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. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  * * *

  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 book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * *

  Discover other titles by Cathryn Fox at www.cathrynfox.com.

  Please sign up for Cathryn’s Newsletter for freebies, ebooks, news and contests: https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/c1f8n1

  ISBN 978-1-928056-48-5

  Prologue

  “Just because we’ve all sworn off men, certainly doesn’t mean we have to lock down the candy shop, girls.”

  * * *

  Summoned by those forlorn words, Pamina, Goddess of Passion and Everything Enchanted, put down her paperback and lifted her long lithe frame from her cozy recliner. With unhurried steps, she padded barefoot to her bay window and peered out. She brushed her golden hair from her shoulders and pulled the morning air into her lungs. The scent of lilac carried in on the breeze and curled around her. A smile touched her mouth as two lovebirds frolicked on the perch of her bird feeder. Ah, such a beautiful autumn day, she mused.

  The perfect season for lovers.

  Sunlight burst through the clouds and glistened off the crisp red apples weighing down the branches on her fruit tree. Her cat Abracadabra jumped onto the window ledge beside her, curled himself into a ball and lazily groomed himself.

  “I guess it’s that time again, Abra.” She gathered all twenty-five pounds of fur ball into her arms and gave him a knowing wink. As the Goddess of Passion, when a woman, or in this case, three women, uttered the dismal words “sworn off men”, it meant she had work to do. It was time for her to summon a bit of magic, spread a little passion and show these women they were far too young to rely on sex toys for the rest of their lives. Their perfect match was still out there, just waiting to be found, with a little help from her, of course.

  Abra huffed, and in that squeaky little cat voice of his said, “Well, it’s about time.” Restless, he pounced back onto the sill. Mystical eyes sparkled with interest as he glanced at the clouds. “Where are we going this time? I hope it’s more exciting than the last place.”

  Indulging him for a moment, Pamina asked, “What was wrong with the last place?”

  “Nothing if you don’t mind hanging out in Butthole, Pennsylvania. I just so happened to mind it.”

  Pamina shook her head, sorry she’d asked. Why she’d gifted him with the ability to speak she’d never know.

  “Because you love me,” Abra said, reading her mind. “Everyone loves me.”

  Pamina cocked her head. “Yes, and all that loving is what landed you here with me in the first place.”

  “You’re such a killjoy,” Abra huffed.

  “As God of Lust and Everything Desirous, you were supposed to help other men with women, not help yourself to them.”

  “Ah, but now I only have eyes for you, Pamina.”

  She resisted the urge to roll her own eyes.

  Abra got quiet for a moment before adding, “Come on, Pamina, turn me back into a man and let me put a little bit, or rather, a big bit of joy into your life.”

  Pamina bit back a grin, no need to encourage his bad-boy behavior. Ever since Abra had crossed the boundaries while in human form, she’d been gifted—or rather cursed—with taking care of him until he could learn to control his urges. After all, as gods and goddesses they were supposed to be above reproach.

  Ignoring him, she leaned out the window and perused the clouds. Her white cotton dress caught a slight breeze and ruffled around her ankles. “It looks like we’re going to a small town called Mason Creek, Connecticut.” She tapped Abra’s nose. “Plenty of mice for you to eat, I’m sure.”

  Never one to enjoy her humor, Abra shivered. “Very funny. Caviar yes, mice no.” He twisted around, offering her his back.

  Pamina narrowed her eyes and chuckled at her ornery friend. She peered deeper into the clouds, taking in the sight of the three young, jaded women who had unknowingly beckoned her services. Not only had the women been best friends since childhood, they also all owned and operated Styles for Living, Mason Creek’s bustling interior-design shop.

  Pamina studied them on this beautiful morning as they window-shopped on Main Street. Dressed in black leather pants with knee high boots to match, Lindsay Bell, the tallest of the three, had an air of bad girl about her. She peered through the window of Toys4Gals, an adult-only toy store. Brown eyes wide, she pulled a long strand of chestnut-colored hair from her cheek and turned to face her two friends and business partners. “Like I said, just because we’ve sworn off men, certainly doesn’t mean we have to shut down the candy shop, girls.”

  Tapping one perfectly manicured nail on the shop window, she pointed to an elongated, battery-operated device. “Meet Bob,” she said with a smirk. “He is going to be my newest best friend.”

  Pamina grinned at Lindsay’s antics, noting that her smart mouth and sassy attitude completed the bad-girl package. Merging their minds as one, Pamina sifted through Lindsay’s thoughts, learning that she had a habit of dating men who’d done little more than scrounge off her. Men who wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it jumped up and bit them on their asses and who were more than happy to dip into her meager savings.

  Anna Deveau raised one brow. “Bob?” she asked. Pamina turned her attention to the petite blonde. She took a moment to study her, gauging Anna’s response to Lindsay’s carefree sexual attitude. Anna worried her bottom lip, pushed her hands into her jeans pockets, and glanced up and down Main Street, seemingly embarrassed by the whole conversation.

  “Bob stands for ‘battery-operated boyfriend’,” Candace Steele piped up, perfect white teeth flashing in a smile. “I think I’ll get one of those.” Toying with her long dark ponytail, she went up on the balls of her gym shoes and pressed her nose to the glass. Her green eyes lit with curiosity. “I wonder if it comes with extra batteries.” Then she added, “Now that I’m off men I’m going to need something to increase my heart rate and metabolism.”

  Lindsay snorted and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Come
on, Candace. Not everything has to be about your triathlons. This toy is designed to give you an orgasm, not to help you run faster, or longer.”

  Candace winked at her friend. “Well, you know how I hate to peter out halfway through a race.”

  Pamina took a moment to sift through Candace’s mind. It appeared the young athletic girl with a penchant for marathon sex attracted guys who were after her daddy’s connections and influence. They claimed to love her, but time and time again, Candace discovered otherwise.

  “Um, we should go,” Anna squeaked out, color flooding her cheeks.

  Lindsay twisted sideways and ruffled the lapels of Anna’s pristine white shirt. “You need to loosen up, girlfriend. Now that we’re all off men, you’re going to have to take matters into your own hands whether you like it or not.” Lindsay clicked her tongue and snapped her fingers. “And as my mother always said, when you want the job done right, you have to do it yourself.”

  When Anna gave her friend a mortified look, Pamina surfed through her mind. Sweet romantic, Anna, a woman who, strangely enough, had a habit of attracting self-serving men. The men she had deemed boyfriends cared only about their own needs and desires, squashing her lifelong belief that she’d be swept off her feet by her very own Prince Charming and live happily ever after.

  Pamina gave a resigned shake of her head and absentmindedly stroked her cat’s black fur. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly, it’s no wonder they’ve sworn off men, Abra.”

  Considering the best approach to help these girls, she scanned Mason Creek and calculated her next move. When she came across an old, rundown Victorian house on the outskirts of town, a plan began to formulate, to take shape and pattern inside her mind.

  Pamina reached outside her window and twisted a juicy red apple from the branch. Ah yes, the old house would provide the perfect setting for seduction. With that last thought in mind, she closed her eyes and bit into the apple, preparing herself for the shift. In the next instant, she reopened her lids and found herself standing on the sidewalk staring up at the old Victorian home.

  It was time to pair each girl with their match and watch the sexual sparks fly.

  With everything in place, she angled her head and glanced at a very disgruntled, very bedraggled, Abra. Much aggrieved, he tossed her a miffed look. Pamina resisted the urge to chuckle. Oops, she’d forgotten to warn him of the shift.

  Before Abra had time to go to work on his tattered fur, she hastily smoothed down her white cotton dress and with a lighthearted bounce to her step said, “Come on, Abra. It’s not time to be worrying about your appearance. We have a lot of work to do.”

  1

  Nose crinkled in distaste, Lindsay Bell pushed open the car door and climbed from the passenger seat. She stepped to the curb, shaded the late-afternoon sun from her eyes and perused the huge, rundown Victorian home outside of town. The place looked like a designer’s worst nightmare, or a designer’s dream come true, depending on whom you were asking. Lips curled in aversion, Lindsay pinched her eyes shut and feigned a shiver.

  Low-slung branches fringed the perimeter of the sunburnt yard, while unkempt vines coiled around the moss-laden veranda like snakes. White paint chips trickled from the tall wooden support posts and settled like snow on the faded blue deck. Overgrown shrubs, weeds, and fallen leaves camouflaged the long, insect-infested walkway. Crickets, grasshoppers and a few other unidentified pests scurried about in their fertile playground.

  When Anna stepped onto the curb beside her, Lindsay angled her head to cast her a glance. “Are you sure this is the place?” She cut her hand through the air. “It doesn’t look like anyone has lived here for years.”

  Anna furrowed her brow and nibbled on her bottom lip. She studied the paper in her hand, then read the rusty brass numbers dangling from the cedar shingles. “This is the address she gave.”

  “Let me see that.” Without haste, Candace circled her Honda Civic, grabbed the paper and scanned it. “91 Oak Street.” She looked at the house and, with an open hand, gestured toward the front door. Never one to waste precious time, she said, “Then I guess this is it, ladies. Shall we?”

  Lindsay pivoted on the ball of her foot and followed. Her very conventional, very so-not-her pumps tapped a steady beat as she trailed behind Candace’s long, athletic strides. She shifted uncomfortably in her business attire. God, she hated having to play dress-up when interviewing new clients. She much preferred her comfortable leather pants and knee-length boots. She turned to Anna, who kept pace beside her.

  “What exactly did this woman say to you when she called yesterday?”

  Anna smoothed her short blonde hair behind her ears, a familiar habit of hers. “Not much, just that she was interested in restoring the old Victorian house into an inn and that she wanted to see us ASAP. When I told her we had other clients before her…” Anna stopped to rub her thumb and index finger together, “…she made us an offer we couldn’t refuse.”

  Lindsay dropped her hand from her forehead, giving her eyes time to adjust to the late-afternoon brightness, and then carefully climbed the dilapidated stairs. She tucked her flirty blue skirt around her knees, taking care not to touch the moldy weathered railings.

  “Well, no one says we have to take the offer,” Lindsay said, already deciding she’d rather pass on the contract. Pulling her toenails off with pliers would be less painful than taking this place from ordinary to extraordinary. They had enough work to last them until Christmas as it was. Exorbitant amounts of money or not, Lindsay would rather decline. And she was pretty certain no one was going to change her mind on that point, obstinate witch that she was. Of course, they’d all have to consult with one another first and come to a unanimous decision.

  Anna adjusted her leather briefcase over her shoulder and longingly ran her hands over the paint-chipped posts. “Are you kidding me, Lindsay? This old house is absolutely fantastic. A designer’s gold mine. Just think what we could do to restore it to its natural state.”

  Lindsay pursed her lips and took a moment to consider things further. Hmmm…maybe Anna was on to something. After practicing celibacy for the last two months, a project of this magnitude might help keep her thoughts off men and remedy all her sexual longings. Not that her thoughts were always on men, or sex, or men and sex, mind you. Nope. Not at all.

  Hell, who was she kidding? Keeping her mind off men and sex was like nailing jelly to a wall.

  The truth was, no matter how much she loved the feel of skin on skin, flesh on flesh, she didn’t want to have anything more to do with those lazy, good-for-nothing bastards who were more than happy to separate her from her hard-earned money. Honestly, she didn’t care one iota if she ever felt the weight of a man’s body on hers, or his fingers caressing her body, his mouth massaging her breasts or the soft blade of his tongue between her quivering thighs.

  Lindsay swallowed a tortured moan.

  Too bad she wasn’t into one-night stands. Sex without relationships. Now that really was the way to go.

  Anna’s voice pulled her back and helped marshal her thoughts. “I can’t wait to dig in,” Anna said, with bright-eyed enthusiasm.

  Lindsay shook her head to clear it, turned her focus back to housezilla and joined Candace on the landing. Anna came up behind her, her hand trailing lovingly over the wooden porch, her eyes glazing in heavenly bliss.

  Despite herself, Lindsay smiled as she watched her friend in mute fascination. Sweet, adorable Anna. She’d been a dreamer since high school, a girl who believed in fairy tales and Prince Charming. Well, a girl who used to believe in fairy tales and Prince Charming. Until that last self-serving jerk she’d dated had finally broken her of that delusion. Despite having completely different views on life, Lindsay loved Anna with all her heart. Which was why she’d nearly ripped that last asshole a new one after he’d hurt her. No one hurt her girls and got away with it.

  When all three reached the door, Candace raised her hand to knock. Before she h
ad a chance, the big old door swung wide open. The rusty brass hinges creaked and moaned like a wounded animal.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Good afternoon,” they all responded in kind.

  After a round of handshakes and an exchange of names, they all fell silent. Even the resident insects stopped chirping. For a long moment the woman—Pamina, as she’d introduced herself—said nothing, she just stood there taking her time to peruse each girl in turn as though assessing them. They, too, did the same.

  Lindsay’s gaze panned the woman before them. Tall and gorgeous, with a knee-length dress hanging loosely over her perfect slim body, Pamina had flawless skin and mystical green eyes. Her long golden hair was haphazardly piled on her head like a halo, making her look angelic. Undoubtedly, the same ’do on Lindsay would have the hair police hunting her down with a bottle of hairspray and pair of scissors. But this woman, with her heart-shaped face and creamy complexion, could likely pull off bald—and make it fashionable.

  As Lindsay scrutinized Pamina, her hand went to her windblown, temperamental curls and in that instant she made up her mind.

  She hated her.

  Those magnificent eyes of hers, however, continued to draw Lindsay’s attention. They looked as though they could read her every secret, her every dark fantasy.

  Lindsay shivered, pretty damn sure that her deepest darkest fantasies would offend this sweet woman’s sensibilities.

  Pamina broke the silence, waved a delicate hand. “Where are my manners? Please come in. I’ve made lemonade and apple muffins.”

  Lemonade and apple muffins?

  “I’ve been waiting for you lovely and talented ladies.”

  Lovely and talented?