OK, I know you're wondering...how do a big-city travel show host and a quiet, small-town handyman get together? Well, here's their first meeting (from her POV) and their second (from his). Enjoy!
Sophie lowered her window and checked for rain. “We’re a half-mile away from town. We’re not going all the way back to--“ She tried
to think of the last actual town, with lights and restaurants and hotels,
they’d passed through. “We’re not turning around.” She opened her door, placed
one foot on the ground, and almost fell onto her ass.
“Ma’am, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
But Sophie threw both arms onto the roof of the car to catch
herself. “I’m all right.” She stopped to get her breath and her balance. “I’m
going to walk up a little ways, see if I can find out what’s going on. I’ll
come right back, I promise.”
“But--“
Sophie shut the door behind her. At least the rain had stopped, though in places the mud
sucked onto the bottom of her shoes and made the going slow. Stupid decision,
she thought about ten strides in, but the air felt good on her face, better than
being trapped in the claustrophobic backseat.
“Hey!” A man waving his arms up ahead pointed at her. “Stop
walking! Right there. Stop!”
Sophie kept going.
At that, he dropped his arms and strode toward her, the
giant from earlier. Actually, out here he wasn’t quite as huge as he’d seemed
before. He wasn’t seven feet tall but closer to six and a half, and his mouth
looked kinder, not like he wanted to swallow up the entire contents of a
banquet table in one sitting. In fact, standing on the road, face to face with
her, he seemed almost--
“Didn’t you see me?” He put one hand on her shoulder and
pinned her in place. “Didn’t you see the truck up there? And the power lines?”
The truck? Yes. The power lines? No. But now that she
looked, a heavy black cable blocked the road.
“You can’t just go walking around in your--“ His gaze
dropped to her shoes, expensive flats with gold and black zebra stripes that
looked terrific on camera but a little out of place on a muddy country road.
“You should go back and wait in your car,” he finished
gruffly. “It’s safer there.” He pushed the hair from his forehead, which did
nothing to stop the rain from dripping down his face. His eyes, large and brown
and curious, rested on hers a moment longer before he turned and walked away
without another word.
AND NOW...
“Lucas Oakes.” The voice came from above, and he turned to
see her standing on the landing between the second and third floors. “The guy
who told me to stay in the car and mind my own business.”
His face warmed. “Just trying to keep you safe. Power lines
down, no one oughta be walking around in the dark.”
“Mm hmm.” She came down the stairs, taking her time, placing
one bare foot before the other. No fur-trimmed robe, no high heels, just a
t-shirt and short shorts revealing an exquisite pair of legs and a slim figure
that needed his hands running down it. And up it. And along all those curves
she wasn’t bothering to hide.
His thoughts fuzzed, but he chalked it up to the long day
and two beers at the bar.
“I didn’t know when we met you’d end up being my knight in shining
armor.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He kept his eyes
on hers, not on her cleavage or her mouth or, God help him, the length of her
leg he could see just about all of.
“I need a favor, Lucas Oakes.” She wasn’t short, maybe
five-four or five-five, but she still had to look up at him. After a minute she
retraced her path and climbed two steps so she met him eye to eye.
“Yeah?” He fought a grin. Everyone else walked around
Lindsey Point craning their necks at him or making comments about the weather
up there. She just got as close to his level as she could.
“Yeah. You’re a cameraman,” she said.
“Ah, what?” Not what he’d expected.
“You did camera work for almost two years when there was a
local cable show here.”
He shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”
“Not that long.” She smiled, and he saw in that instant what
the camera loved. Quiet desire slipped through him, gone almost before he
realized it. But there. Holy hell, definitely there. His fingers twitched,
wanting both to touch her and to reach for the door and get out of the bed and
breakfast before he did something embarrassing. Like run his thumb along her
jaw. Or move the hair from her eyes. Or rip that t-shirt clean off her body and
let his tongue dance down the lines of her torso...
Available now!
3 comments:
Interesting meetings.
debby236 at gmail dot com
Thanks for dropping by!!
Post a Comment