Bad boy for hire, p.1
Bad Boy for Hire, page 1
Bad Boy for Hire
Evergreen Cove
Book 3
Jessica Lemmon
Copyright © 2025 by Jessica Lemmon
All rights reserved.
Bad Boy for Hire is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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.
No Generative AI Training Use. This book may not be used to train artificial intelligence technologies to generate text or other content. All rights to license this work for AI training or machine learning purposes are expressly reserved by the Author.
Published in the United States by Lemmon Ink.
Cover by Qamber Designs.
Praise
“Everything I love in a romance.” –Lori Foster, NYT bestselling author
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“Love, friends, family, sweet & steamy romance… [Jessica’s] Bad Boys are just sooo good!” –Erin Nicholas, NYT & USA Today Bestselling Author
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“Lavish, indulgence-fueled romance.” –Publishers Weekly
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“Nobody, but nobody can write a bad boy like Jessica Lemmon.” –Harlequin Junkie
Contents
Dear Reader
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
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Eye Candy - Excerpt
About the Author
Welcome to the Lemmon Society
Also by Jessica Lemmon
Dear Reader
Welcome back to Evergreen Cove! I have loved this luxe lake town for a long, long time, and returning always makes me smile. Especially when there is an inevitable Asher Knight cameo, or the reappearance of the beloved Devil Dog dessert.
If you’re new in town, I will caution you that you might have trouble leaving. Evergreen Cove tends to snuggle you in hard and then refuse to let go. You’ll love it here, though. It’s all about deep family connections and friends that eventually become family. Oh, and love stories. Lots and lots of love stories.
Happy reading,
Jessica Lemmon
jessicalemmon.com
Chapter One
Goodbye, summer.
May Glenfield stood on the shared dock outside of her house and watched the water. Summer wasn’t over, and technically wouldn’t be for another month, but she always felt a bit of melancholy when the leaves on the trees surrounding the lake began to turn.
Last night, she’d hung out at the bar with her friends. She’d driven home—her two cocktails long gone after devouring a virtual mountain of loaded nachos—and had fallen asleep with visions of the sexiest bartender in the world dancing in her head. She sipped her coffee and smiled to herself. That’d been nice.
No hot men, came the automatic reminder.
She huffed. She was tired of hearing that internal warning.
Xavier didn’t break that rule so much as annihilate it. He was unreasonably beautiful. With sparkling amber eyes the color of bourbon, a voice that was firm but playful, and a stepped-up style that most men didn’t bother with in the Cove. She’d heard Lou refer to his clothes as “rockabilly.” A trendy shirt here and there could slide him in that direction on the scale, but fashionista May saw his style as stepped-up simple. He wore jeans, like most of the hot guys in the Cove, but no one wore them as well as Xavier. They were fitted but not tight, cupping his perfect ass, and he often paired them with a button-down shirt, cuffed over impressive biceps and framing his muscular stature.
Picturing his biceps made her also picture the tattoos running the length of his left arm. Tattoos, for goodness’ sake. A row of pines and birds at first glance, but if one looked closer (and she had), constellations and binary code were woven into the natural scene. On one inked tree trunk were small black dots attached with thin lines (for which star grouping she had no idea), while the leaves of another smaller tree were made up of nothing but ones and zeroes. She hadn’t even known she liked tattoos until she’d seen Xavier’s. But like the rest of him, his tats were smart, sharp, and effortlessly cool.
She sighed. How she had resisted that man for three years was a miracle.
So, yeah. Xavier. Reddish blonde hair, coiffed to perfection. Full beard that looked soft and touchable. Amazing mouth. Sparkling eyes. A far cry from her ex, who was stouter, bulkier, and bald. But unlike Prescott, Xavier was friendly and instantly likable. And he made her laugh. There was an air of calm that seemed to ebb from his very soul.
A tad dramatic? Maybe. But drama had become almost second nature to her in recent years. She’d stuck to her no-hot-men rule, partially out of stubbornness but mostly, she was recently suspecting, out of fear. Losing Prescott had meant losing the connection with his entire family, and at a time May had suffered a great loss of her own, that had been a hard pill to swallow.
Her cellphone buzzed from the pocket of her joggers. Lisa, she’d bet. Sure enough, her best friend’s smiling photo looked up at her from her phone’s screen.
May answered the video call and was greeted with the opposite of smiley Lisa. Frowny Lisa grumbled, “My head hurts. Why do you look great? I hate you.”
May chuckled, her friend’s sour attitude glancing off her. They’d lived in the Cove their entire lives, and May and Lisa had become besties in middle school. There wasn’t much Lisa could say that would offend her. “I drank water in addition to cocktails. Didn’t you?”
“Vodka is made with water,” Lisa mumbled against the edge of a pale blue coffee mug. Lisa was sitting up in bed, sunlight playing in her dark hair, mascara slightly smudged underneath her blue eyes, both of which made her appear less guarded than usual. “Did you open it yet?”
“Open what?” May felt a wrinkle mar her brow before the conversation from last night crawled out of the back of her mind and slapped her on the forehead. “Oh. That.”
“Yes. That. What else?” Lisa set her coffee mug aside. “Open it now. We’ll do it together.”
“It’s inside.”
“So, go inside.”
“No, thanks.”
“Do you want me to come over and do it?” Lisa threw off the covers like she was getting out of bed, but then winced before easing back down on her pillows. “Ow. Sorry. You have to do it. If I move farther than six inches from this bed, my head might explode.”
“Did you drink water this morning?”
Eyes closed, Lisa answered, “Coffee is made with water.”
“I don’t need to open it,” May said, knowing that Lisa wouldn’t drop the subject. “I already know what’s in it.” The white envelope with the gold seal sitting on her counter had a return address from one Ms. Posy Stanton. “It’s Prescott’s sister’s wedding invitation. Mystery solved.”
“So? Open it, mark the RSVP no, and mail that fucker back.”
“I have to go, Lis. I love Posy. We were like sisters.” Both of Prescott’s sisters, Posy and Paisley, and even his mom, Cherie, were family to May. Or, they had been when she’d been dating Prescott.
Over the years, she’d kept in touch, but lately she had relegated her correspondence to social media. Texting had been easier than phone calls but had often led to invitations for coffee or brunch that May had politely turned down. It wasn’t about unresolved feelings for Prescott, it was about not reopening a wound that had finally begun closing.
“Loving Posy doesn’t mean you have to put yourself through hell for her,” Lisa continued. “It’s a wedding. Send a gift.”
“She’d never forgive me if I skipped her wedding.” The weight of those words sat on her shoulders like a winter coat she couldn’t take off. For a woman without siblings, who had lost one parent and was estranged from the other, abandoning the family that had loved her through that time wasn’t an easy task. Prescott’s mother and sisters had even taken May’s side after the breakup, which hadn’t been fair. Not to them or to Prescott.
“Babe.” Lisa’s voice cut into May’s thoughts. “You okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”
May swiped at her eyes, feeling the mist from a tear that must have escaped without permission. “I’m fine. I’m just emotional about fall. You know how it is. Summer’s almost over. No more pool parties or boat days or wine nights on the patio.” And fall represented change—more change that she had no control over.
“Yes, but fall is also campfires and hot cocoa and cozy sweaters.” Lisa curled her shoulders and smiled, her hangover forgotten.
“All I know is it’s going to be cold,” May hedged. “I don’t like to be cold.”
Lisa dropped her shoulders and gave May an impatient look. “Please open it? Get
“I will. But not until I decide how to RSVP.”
“You’re going to say no. Obviously.”
“It’s a yes. It has to be. But I don’t want to go alone.” She scrunched her face. She didn’t have any prospects that excited her, but she would rather not show up to the wedding alone. “And I’m not asking William.”
“How many times do I have to apologize for setting you up with him?”
“Just one more.” May winked.
“I’m sorry. He seemed nice. And he’s very smart and wealthy.”
Xavier was all of those, May thought automatically. Everyone in the Cove had recently learned that Xavier was a millionaire, having turned his degree in computer science into a highly coveted app called Tipsy, where users could track and rate the wine and beer they tasted. And, when a passing waitress spilled a beer, it’d been Xavier, not William, who had rushed to make sure she was okay. And it’d been Xavier who had told William to “fuck off” when it was clear her date wasn’t going to behave himself.
“What are you smiling about?” Lisa asked, eyes narrowed.
“Nothing. You’re forgiven.”
“I’ll be your date to the wedding. Pencil me in as your plus-one.”
“You do recall offering yourself up last night as well, don’t you?”
“I did?” Lisa frowned for a second before shrugging. “I must mean it if I’m offering again.”
“I’ll think about it.” But showing up with her friend instead of a date was too much like admitting she couldn’t handle her ex alone. And she could. She just…didn’t want to.
“What time am I picking you up tonight for the party?”
May’s heart skipped a beat and then kicked her ribcage in the same way she might excitedly punch the air. Brady’s birthday party was tonight, which meant Xavier would be there. She tried to sound cool when she said, “Whenever. What are you wearing?”
“Jeans. Xavier’s house has that great fire bowl near the water.”
“Xavier’s house? Not Brady and Elliott’s?” May didn’t successfully hide her shock. In addition to owning Salty Dog, Xavier owned a mansion on a private part of the Cove. That setting sounded much more intimate, even with their friends milling around.
“Xavier moved the party to his house. Does that make you want to go more or less?” Lisa lifted and dropped her eyebrows suggestively.
“It’s no big deal,” she lied. “I’ve been there before.”
“Exactly. No reason to worry. I don’t think he noticed you staring him down last night.”
“Shut up. I did not.” Had she? She remembered sitting with her friends, half listening, half enjoying her food, and yeah, okay…watching nearly every move that Xavier made. Lou had joked, “You’re drooling,” and Elliott had noted that Xavier looked at May whenever she looked away. That’d made May nervous. Her “harmless” crush seemed to be gaining steam.
“Take me to your closet,” Lisa said. “We’ll pick out the perfect party dress.”
“I work for a fashion company, Lisa. I am capable of choosing the perfect party dress.”
“No, you’re capable of picking out seven perfect party dresses, each with its own meandering list of pros and cons. I am capable of narrowing that list down to a lean two and giving you a this-or-that option.”
That was true. May overthought like it was a sport and she’d won a gold medal. She clucked her tongue. “Fine, but you have to wait while I brew more coffee.”
Lisa brightened. “Hey, while you’re in the kitchen, you can open that invitation.”
“No.”
“Please?”
“You’re pushing it.”
“Babe. That’s what I do.”
“Truer words,” May said with a laugh as she strolled toward her house.
Chapter Two
“Those chairs go around the fire bowl,” Xavier said to the two guys from the catering crew who were ambling down the stone steps leading to the dock. He ran a hand through his hair, not styled yet since he’d stepped out of the shower about four minutes ago. He wasn’t accustomed to having staff at his home, only at his bar, so this was a totally different ballgame.
Rich guy shit, he thought with a small chuckle. He was still adjusting, he supposed.
When he’d offered his house as the venue for the party, his friends had warned him not to do everything himself. They’d been busting his balls since finding out about his millionaire status, which he’d reluctantly shared when they’d pressed him about the sale of the app. They’d further advised that he needed to “stop doing so much shit” himself and live like the one percent. He’d laughed off the idea at first, but then thought, why not? Now, though, he noticed that letting people do what he was perfectly capable of doing himself was taking some getting used to.
He’d insisted on Brady’s party being here for two reasons: one, his yard was bigger than Brady and Elliott’s, which wasn’t a humblebrag as much as a fact. And two, Xavier’s house was tucked into a private part of the Cove, which made it ideal for parties. Not as many boat drive-bys and a lower likelihood of noise complaints. And, if he were adding a third reason, his latest brew had been kegged here, so it was ready to be tapped—no hauling necessary.
“You need more ice,” his buddy Ant informed him as he carried a cooler toward the dock.
“I hired staff so that my friends wouldn’t have to carry coolers.”
Ant feigned insult. “I can carry a fuckin’ cooler.”
“So can I. Wasn’t it you who told me to stop doing shit for myself?”
“’Twas I who told you you ain’t got to.” Ant grinned, proud of his combo of formal and informal grammar. “Besides, you’re hanging out with your friends tonight, not serving us. Too many times you’ve been on the wrong side of the bar at Salty Dog.”
True. Xavier worked not because he had to but because he enjoyed the people. His friends would come in to say hi, sip on his latest beer recipe, and shoot the shit. Gave him something to do with his time, and he liked most of it—save the occasional drunk he had to escort out.
Also, May came in fairly often, which made it well worth his while. Her being there was a good workaround for the no-hot-men rule she’d made that apparently applied to Xavier. That was a backhanded compliment if he’d ever heard one, but he could flirt shamelessly whenever she pulled up a seat at his bar. At least when she wasn’t showing up with a date.
“It’s like visiting you in prison,” Ant added.
“It is not like prison.” That wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. Lately, working at the bar had been more of an obligation than a pastime. He’d perfected his brews and had plenty of recipes to rotate for the bar. He’d even hired Dean, a brewmaster, to take over brewing, aka glorified janitorial work. The scrubbing, sanitizing, and mopping weren’t as fun as crafting the recipes.
Ant, his ever-present fedora shading his eyes, called up the hill, “You work too much.”
When Xavier had moved to the Cove four—or had it been five?—years ago, he’d been relocating for a job. The startup had hired him for website development and computer programming. At the time, he’d been elated to escape Columbus—his primary goal—and the ex-girlfriend who had fucked him over.
He’d moved from his cramped downtown apartment into a cramped apartment here in the Cove, but the lakeside lifestyle had been a welcome change of scenery. Work had been…fine. The company fabricated metal for government defense contracts, not as sexy as his former job at a liquor distributor, but it had paid a hell of a lot better.
