TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT - CHRISTMAS

Welcome! Merry Christmas! The word prompt this week is "Christmas"! This week's episode of "Santa's Thrift Shop" continues from Giselle's pov. Don't worry. We will get to Cal's side of things. 
I hope you have a wonderful holiday. Thank you so much for stopping by. Scroll down to get back to Tuesday Tales. 

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Julia Davenport entered her niece’s house carrying a shopping bag.

“You’re just in time for tea. I have water boiling,” Giselle said, giving her aunt a hug.

“You’re so self-sufficient. It’s amazing.”

“I’ve had a few years to adjust.”

“Can’t I be impressed?”

“Life goes on, Julia. No matter what.”

“True.”

“Camomile or Vanilla Chai?” Giselle asked, on her way to the kitchen.

“Vanilla, please. I brought you some Christmas decorations.”

“I’m not going to have a tree. No point.”

“Can we put these up in the window, instead?” Julia asked.

“Sure. I don’t want people to think I’m a Scrooge.”

Giselle took down mugs and recognized the box of vanilla tea by the cream color.

“Do you need help?” Julie asked, joining her niece.

“Just say ‘when’, will you?”

“Sure.”

“I brought some of Laura Dailey’s scones,” she said, rummaging through the shopping bag.

Julia swallowed her food, then spoke. 

“Are you going to do Santa’s Thrift Shop?”

“Me? No. That was mom’s thing. Not mine,” Giselle responded, putting a piece of the confection in her mouth.

“But you always helped out.”

“When I had perfect vision. But now? No.”

“I’ll help. I’m sure we can find others.”

“There’s probably a ton of dust and mold growing in that old shop. Ugh.”

Julia patted Giselle’s arm. “The children look forward to it. And when I told people you were moving back, everyone asked me if you were going to do it.”

“And what did you say?”

“Said I had to talk to you first.”

“If everything was normal, well, maybe. But the way things are…”

“People will pitch in.”

“I don’t want that. I don’t want help. I don’t want pity. I just want to be left alone,” Giselle said, pushing to her feet and stomping to the bay window.

Through the fuzziness, she made out a snowball fight happening across the street. Her heart squeezed. Of course, it would be Cal. She recalled the many times he’d rifled a snowball at her bottom with amazing accuracy.

She sighed and turned away. No sense torturing herself. Cal had a new life, a child, and probably a girlfriend. Julia came up behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s time for you to get a life, too.”  

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PICTURE PROMPT WEEK - SANTA'S THRIFT SHOP

This is picture prompt week. Our stories must be no more than 300 words. I am starting a new story, too. The tentative title is "Santa's Thrift Shop." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

   Giselle stood at her living room window. Holding up binoculars, she could make out the Christmas tree in the window across the street. Her poor vision prevented her from distinguishing the people moving around. She guessed it was Cal and his son, Bobby. Pain pierced her heart. That should have been her son with him. She sighed.

   “You’d think after dealing with this crap for four years, I’d be used to it by now,” she said out loud to herself. Early onset macular degeneration had disrupted her life, robbed her of her profession and forced her to sell her family home.  

   She made her way to the kitchen and plugged in the electric kettle. The beauty of it was that it stopped boiling and kept the water hot with no open fire. With help from her aunt, she’d laid out the kitchen and memorized it. Find the tea? Easy peasy, she went right to the correct cabinet. Sugar? Milk? Giselle pulled things together for a hot cuppa to chase the winter chill away.

   Aunt Julia had picked out this house, a two-bedroom ranch. Giselle couldn’t handle stairs. She’d instructed her Aunt to tell no one about her condition, especially not Cal Morrison. She could take his hostility, but never his pity.

   Julia said he’d never forgiven Giselle for taking the job in Europe. She’d thought she told him it was only for a year, but he didn’t listen. Within nine months, he’d knocked up a woman and gotten married. Cal’s wife, Jane, had drowned in the Delaware two years ago.  

   Did Julia not know this house was across the street from Cal’s? Giselle didn’t think so. There would be no reunion with him. Between his anger and her disability, the gap was as wide at the Atlantic Ocean.

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NEW HOLIDAY STORIES HERE! FOOTBALL & HOCKEY, ROMANCE & COMEDY!

I have two new Christmas stories this season. The Final Slapshot is a hockey romance, written originally for the Hockey Holiday anthology. Santa's Surprise is my first romantic comedy short story. Find out more about there here.  

Harry “Deke” Edmonds is a Hartford Husky defenseman known to be tricky, fast, and unbreakable. An amazing defensive lunge in a playoff game ends in a life-threatening injury. But Harry’d bounce back. He always did, didn’t he?

Kitty, his wife, runs a successful art gallery in Washington, D.C. Over the last three years, the couple agreed to live in different cities and be together whenever they can. Harry swears they make it work.

Unwilling to face the truth about the damage he suffered, Harry hides his secret. Hoping for a Christmas miracle, but confronted with the inevitable, he makes a decision that breaks his heart. Is this the end of the road for him with the Huskies and Kitty, too?

Previously published in the Hockey Holiday Anthology.

Buy the ebook for ONLY $0.99 here:

UNIVERSAL LINK

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If you follow the "First & Ten" series, here are two new players and a new spin on their Christmas party for at-risk kids. 

When Connecticut Kings star football player, Keith Wilson, asks his actress sister, Molly, to sub for him at the annual Christmas party for kids, she refuses. Although he manipulates her into agreeing, she turns the tables by extracting a reluctant promise from him.  

Will she be able to carry off posing as a man? And what happens when Santa turns out to be someone she didn’t expect?

A sweet, sexy short holiday romantic comedy.  

Find the ebook here: 

UNIVERSAL LINK

TUESAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "CRAZY" FROM "SANTA'S HELPER"

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week is a little different. We have a snippet from a short, short holiday story, called, tentatively, Santa's Helper. I hope you enjoy it. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. 

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House on Eve Lane,

“Are you crazy?” Molly asked her twin brother, Keith.

“Aw come on,” Keith whined.

“No. Nyet. Nunca, Non, how many languages do I have to use to get this across to you?”

“You’re my twin. Twins stick together.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you already. No.”

“Please? I’m on bended knee.”

She turned away from him.

“Valerie, I could use a little help here,” he said, staring at his wife.

“I know how she feels. This is risky. She could get caught.”

“Get caught? It’s not like she’s stealing the crown jewels, Val.”

“I know. She won’t get arrested, but the humiliation.”

“Look, Mom and Dad have already said they’d take the kids. I have a suite reserved at the Ritz tonight. It’s our anniversary, for Chrissakes.”

“That’s your problem.”

“I didn’t sign up to play Santa’s helper  at the team’s kiddie Christmas party. We drew straws. I lost.”

“Must I repeat myself? It’s not my problem.”

Keith Wilson, star running back for the Connecticut Kings, plucked another beer from the fridge.

“You’re right. I never should have asked you,” he said.

Molly faced him. “Do you mean that?”

“Yeah. Well, the only reason I’m asking is because you’re such an accomplished actress, I figured you could pull it off. You know, play any part. Isn’t that what the actresses who win Academy Awards say? Aren’t they always looking for that difficult part to sink their teeth into?”

Molly’s eyes widened. “You think I’m an accomplished actress? Since when?”

“Since…always. But if this is beyond your ability. Hell, well, then I understand, I guess.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well can you or can’t you?”

She straightened up, squared her shoulders and made eye contact with him. “Of course I could. If I wanted to, that is. Which I don’t.”

TUESDAY TALES

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT - THANKSGIVING

Welcome! This week the word prompt is "Thanksgiving." We have another snippet from "Renovating the Billionaire." Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you have a wonderful holiday. 

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   As mornings turned chilly in September, Jess’s thoughts turned to Thanksgiving. Just once she’d like to celebrate in that drafty old mansion. She'd imagine the huge dining room table filled with her Pine Grove friends. Every year, Jess would make up a fictional menu.

   Lying on the sofa in the early morning hours, nursing coffee, she’d dream of the sideboard groaning under the weight of the exquisite dishes she’d concocted for the hungry audience. Homemade cranberry orange relish, a Brussels sprouts and cheese casserole, and her own recipe for stuffing.

   As her mind took flight, her stomach would get into the act and growl. Even though it shouted for turkey, gravy and sweet potatoes, she fed it a couple of slices of toast. Time was a wastin’ and she had pies to bake.

   Discarding her dreams, she pushed up and headed for the kitchen. This year, Thanksgiving would be the same as always. A big chicken, a can of cranberry jelly, packaged stuffing, a couple of baked sweet potatoes and one of her secret-recipe pumpkin pies. Every year Jess rationalized not spending money for a turkey. They’d be only two and could never eat it all. She refused to throw away food. 

   As she prepared the pie filling, she pondered a way to make the holiday special. Thanksgiving hurt her heart. They didn’t have much to be thankful for, and many worries plagued her, but not her brother. 

   Recalling Will’s enthusiasm brought a smile to her lips. That boy was relentlessly cheerful. Maybe she did have something to be thankful for –having him. This year, she’d splurge and buy Brussel sprouts, Will’s favorite veggie, and make that casserole with cheese. Making one dream come true and surprising him lifted her spirits. She hummed as she filled pies and slid them into the oven. This year would be better, she’d see to that.

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT - ANOTHER SNIPPET FROM "RENOVATING THE BILLIONAIRE."

Hello and welcome! This is picture prompt week. This is the picture I used to inspire my story. Scroll down to get back to Tuesday Tales.

We have another episode of "Renovating the Billionaire" this week. Scroll down to return to the excellent stories on the Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Stryker wandered over to the tree where he and Jess had their picnic. How could something that started so great, end up so badly? He shook his head. He’d left shortly after, and only returned today to see plans his architect had drawn up.

Jess had been on his mind from the moment he took her home. Afterward, he’d kicked himself. Then, John and Chris had piled on. They’d been right, of course. Seemed like he was never right anymore. Where was his head? Why couldn’t he figure things out?

Maybe because it wasn’t about dollars and cents, but about feelings and emotions. If there had been a class in that at Yale, he’d have flunked. He feared the only one glad to see him back in town was Laura Dailey.

“Stryker! Welcome back. You’re just in time for the corn festival. Having your usual?” she’d asked, adding half a teaspoon of sugar to his coffee. “Your table is free.”

He’d smiled and taken the seat he’d occupied every morning at the Cozy Cupcake during his stay in town. How could it feel so good to be back? This tiny hamlet, barely a blip on the map, had crept into his blood. Or was it Jess Lennox? As he sipped his brew, she came through the door, her arms loaded with pies. 

When she saw him, she almost dropped the boxes. He’d rushed to help, putting two of the containers on the counter.  

“What are you doing here?” she’d asked, her eyes brightening.

“Good to see you, too.”

“Sorry. It’s not that I’m not glad to see you. I am. Glad, I mean. I am glad. Not, not glad.”

“I get it,” he said.

“I didn’t think you were coming back.”

“Neither did I,” he replied.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "SUDDENLY" - MORE OF "RENOVATING THE BILLIONAIRE"

Welcome! This week we have another episode of "Renovating the Billionaire." Thanks for stopping by. 

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   Once again, Stryker West walked the grounds of his Aunt Minnie's old place. The garden had been decimated by animals and weather. Even the rose bushes looked dull and withered. 
   Rubbing his neck, he tried, once more, to figure out why Jess wanted to save the house. He entered the back door into the kitchen. Blowing dust off the stove, he turned the knob. A flame sprang to life. 
   "Well, well. Still works." 
   He continued ambling down the long hall to the living room. 
   "I suppose you could refinish the floors. Hmm. Paint the walls?New sofa. Guess she has a  point. Maybe it's not ready for the trash heap." 
   Ending up at the window seat, watching birds in the feeder Jess kept filled, he scratched his chin. Then it hit him. Suddenly, he realized what mattered to Jess mattered to him. He cared for her. In shock, he sank down on the window seat. 
   Damn, what had he done? He'd developed feelings for a woman who hated his guts. Jess Lennox loathed him with every breath she took. How did this happen? The physical attraction made sense, but nothing more. Too late. He covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head. 
   "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered, already feeling pain in his heart. 

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "TRAGIC" #smalltown #romance

We have another episode in the "Renovating the Billionaire" story. This will be my book for NANO. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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“Would it be so fucking tragic if he tore it down?” Will Lennox asked his sister.

She stopped stirring the stew and faced him.

“It would be to me.”

Will put out two plates on the kitchen table, then opened the utensil drawer.

“Really? So what? It’s not like you’re ever gonna have that house.”

“How do you know?” she asked, resting her hands on her hips.

“Get real, Jess. We can barely make the rent. You gonna buy that old broken-down piece of crap? With what money?” he asked, placing forks next to each plate.

“I don’t know. But it could happen. Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah, right. Dream on.” He folded two paper towels and placed them under the forks.

She grabbed his arm, turning him toward her. “It’s my dream. Don’t take that away from me. It’s all I have.”

“Maybe it’s about time you gave that up. Maybe it’s time you found a guy and got married. So we could live like normal people.”

“Normal people?” she asked, placing a glass of iced tea by his place.

“Yeah. Instead of watching every penny. I work my butt off and you do, too, and yet we don’t even have enough to buy an ice cream cone. Why is that?”

She shrugged and returned to the stove.

“Because we’re cursed here.”

“People hire you. They buy my pies. It’s all we can do now.”

“I get hired to change the screen in a window, to nail a chair back together. Not to do the work dad trained me to do.”

“I can’t help that.”

“We need to move. Forget that house. Let’s pack up and go. Get a fresh start somewhere else.”

He sat down at the table. Jess carried a pot of stew over and ladled out some on her brother’s plate.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“Because of that stupid house?”

“Maybe. Everyone should have a dream.”

Will grabbed her forearm. “Let that asshole tear it down, Jess. Let it go. Move on.”

“No.” She filled her plate and sat down.

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TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT

Welcome! We have another episode of Renovating the Billionaire this week. The prompt is a picture prompt. We have to keep our posts to 300 words, with a few more or less. 
Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales and some exceptional authors. Thanks for stopping by. 

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After leaving Laura Dailey’s café, Jess wandered over to the thrift shop. The bell tinkled as she opened the door.

Giselle Davenport called out, “Who’s there?”

Jess forgot her friend who ran the place was legally blind. “It’s me, Jess.”

“You picked the perfect day to stop by. We got new donations. Great dresses. In your size, too. Come on.”

Last thing Jess had money for was a new dress, even if it was second-hand.

“I’m just looking,” Jess said, shuffling through the colorful garments. An ice-blue sleeveless number caught her eye.

“Try it on.”

Jess shook her head. She never tried on anything she couldn’t buy. Saved a lot of time that way. Unable to resist, she checked the price tag. Fifteen dollars. She figured the dress must have sold for two hundred bucks brand new. She knew she only had three dollars. Jess sighed.

“Could we trade?” Giselle asked.

“Trade?”

“Yeah. Could you take me grocery shopping?”

“Sure. I’m picking up groceries for Ralph Manning tomorrow. Can you go then?”

Giselle placed her hand on Jess’s arm. “Only if you let me give you something in exchange.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m going anyway.”

“Not doing it unless you take something.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“That blue dress.”

Jess’s pulse jumped.

“Go. Try it on.

The garment fit like it was made for her.

“Okay. It’s a deal,” Jess said. “Thank you.” She hugged her friend. “I’ll be by at ten. Does that work for you?”

“Perfect. I’ll be ready,” Giselle said, wrapping the dress in tissue and placing it in a bag. Jess picked up the bag. If only she was dating someone, anyone. With a sigh she pushed through the door, making the bell tinkle. At least she had the dress, just in case. 

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TUESDAY TALES - HAZY

Howdy! Thank you for coming. This week the word prompt is "hazy." We have another snippet from "Renovating the Billionaire."

I hope you enjoy it. Scroll down to go back to Tuesday Tales and the excellent authors there. 

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“Here’s the key,” Robbie, his right-hand man said.

“Do I really have to do this?”

“I think so. But you’re the boss.”

“Be back in an hour.”

“Right.”
With a groan of disgust, Stryker Alexander West exited the limo and headed for the steps of the old house. He shoved the key in the rusty lock and turned. Reluctantly, the tumblers clicked into place. His memory of the inside was hazy.

He recalled warm, delicious smells coming from the kitchen. His aunt, Minnie, had been an excellent cook. Not a gourmet, but she could make a stew that would bring a grown man to tears. His mouth watered as the long-forgotten scents awakened his taste buds.

Opening the front door, he was hit with the stench of cat urine. The smell was overpowering, pushing him back a few steps. His eyes stung. Ducking under a cob web, he forced himself to walk through the living room. Stryker forced a long, once-elegant window open. 

Gulping fresh air, he turned to examine the room. He wondered what Minnie had done with the thousands of dollars he’d sent her each month to keep up the house. Surely, she had not used one single cent to maintain it.

The furniture was covered with dusty sheets. The braided rug that had once brought color and warmth to the room had faded and grown shabby. Paint on the walls cracked and peeled, the wood floor, once polished and gleaming, was scuffed and scratched. The chandelier was missing. Old wires sprung from the ceiling like weeds in Minnie’s once-tended garden.

His heart squeezed. Did he dare explore the other rooms? Curiosity overcame fear, compelling him to forge ahead. One room was worse than the next. Corralling his emotions, his resolve to raze the structure hardened. There was nothing left of the place he had called home. Best to take this monstrosity down and hope to erase the memory of the shambles it had become.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "GREEN" - MORE RENOVATING THE BILLIONAIRE

Welcome! The word prompt this week is "green." We have another excerpt from "Renovating the Billionaire." Scroll down to return to the excellent writers on Tuesday Tales. 
Thanks for stopping by.

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Jess pulled into the driveway of the broken-down mansion. Her workday over, she stopped to take a look at the old place for the millionth time. After getting out of her car, she stretched her arms high. Exhaustion crept along her spine. Though only five o’clock, Jess had been up and working for twelve hours. Pie baking started early.

She moseyed over to the back and eased down on the grass. June air hung heavy with the promise of flowers and vegetables sprouting in the sun. Leaning back on her elbows, she eyed the building. Picking a tall, green blade of grass, she stuck it in her teeth, then spoke out loud.

“If the wood’s not rotten, I’d repair the back porch. Hang a feeder there. Maybe get a rocking chair.”

A short male laugh startled her. She sat up straight like a bolt of lightening hit her.

“Chip? Chip Matthews? What are you doing here?”

“Might ask you the same question.” He leaned up against a tree, his eyes slowly traveling her length.

Jess scrambled to her feet, brushing the twigs and leaves from her butt.  

“Nothin.”

“Talkin’ to yourself? That’s not a good sign, Jess.”

“None of your business. I gotta git home.”

As she brushed past him, he grabbed her arm. “Wait.”

“What for?”

“We got some unfinished business.”

“Not that I see. Let me go.”

He dropped his hold, but his gaze connected with hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what?” she asked, tossing her long locks.

“’Bout everything. You. Me. Lucky.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, but didn’t move. “You got Kathy now. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“Got a horse fixin’ to foal soon. Thought you might like to have it.”

Her eyes widened, her throat ran dry. Chip cupped her cheek. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to give in. She brushed his hand aside and stepped back.

“Pa was right. We didn’t have money to feed a horse. Still don’t. So keep it. Thanks anyway.” Before he could answer, she trotted off to her vehicle and started the motor. She roared out of the driveway before Chip could catch up. Turning down the first dead end street, she stopped abruptly, rested her head on the steering wheel and let the tears flow.

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "DEBUT" More "Renovating the Billionaire." #romance #billionaire

Welcome! This week is another episode of "Renovating the Billionaire." We get a peek into Stryker Alexander West's background. Thanks for stopping by. Scroll down to return to Tueaday Tales and the excellent stories there. 

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Stryker Alexander West made his debut in the local police department when he was thirteen. Hauled in for underage drinking, and disorderly conduct, Sergeant Maguire sat him down hard on a seat in the interrogation room.

“I understand Minnie West isn’t your mother.”

“Nope.” His stomach flip-flopped.

“She’s your dad’s older sister?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yessir.”

“I hear you been actin’ up. Giving her a hard time.”

“Old biddie,” Stryker muttered.

The sergeant’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared. “I can pick up this phone, dial children’s services and have you yanked outta the ‘old biddie’s’house in a goddamn heartbeat. I can slam your ass in a foster home where they don’t give a crap about you. Where they’re only in it for the check they get every month. Would that be better? Would you like that? ‘Cause I can do it. With one phone call,” the policeman said, picking up the receiver.

Even at thirty-eight, his stomach clenched and sweat broke out on his forehead at the memory.

“No, sir. No. Please don’t do that.”  

“You ma and pa died in a car, didn’t they?”

“Yessir.”

“How do you think they’d feel if they knew what a dick their son is?” he asked, grabbing Stryker by the collar of his shirt. “Huh? I asked you a question. How’d they feel?”

“They wouldn’t like it.”

“Damn right they wouldn’t. They might even say, pick up that phone, Sergeant Maguire. Put him in a foster home. Let him see how good he’s got it with Minnie.”

He’d trembled as fear coursed through him. By the time the sergeant got through, Stryker had been shaking, he’d thrown up, and tears poured down his cheeks.

The policeman laughed as he turned the boy over to his aunt.

“Here you go, Ms. West. If he acts up again, give me a call. Here’s my card.”

“Thank you, officer, but I’m sure Stryker learned his lesson.”

“Did you, son?” the policeman asked.

Recollecting the conversation, Stryker grinned. 

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Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt - More of "Renovating the Billionaire."

Welcome to Tuesday Tales! Another bit from "Renovating the Billionaire" this week with a picture prompt. And I can only have 300 words! 

Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Walking along Sunset Lane, Jess passed Chip Matthews farm. A whinny drew her attention to a field. A colt nuzzled it’s mother, who nickered in response to her foals shenanigans, the young horse tossed his mane and kicked up his back legs before taking off to run.

Jess loved horses. She leaned against the fence to watch. The young animal reminded her of the one her mother had given her for her birthday. He’d been from Chip’s farm, too. The Matthews had given it to Jess’s mom because their son was sweet on Jess.

Jess had named him “Lucky”, ‘cause she figured she was darn lucky to get him. Then her father intervened.

“We ain’t got no money to feed a horse. Shit. We barely got enough to feed you and Will. I’m takin’ him back.”

Jess has begged, cried, pleaded with her father, but he wouldn’t budge. She’d even hung on his arm, digging her heels into the soft earth to stop him. But nothing had worked. James returned the horse to Chip and his parents. Looking back, she realized that her father had been right. Maybe if he hadn’t been drunk, had been gentler in the way he’d done it, she wouldn’t have hated him.

When Jess turned nineteen, the age she’d hoped to become Chip’s bride, his parents put a stop to her romance. Seems as if the Matthews’ family was too good to be joined with the family of a husband-killer and now jailbird.

Obviously curious, the foal stopped at the fence and stared at her. Jess reached out to pet his muzzle, but he shied away. She looked up see Chip in the doorway of the barn. He stared back, not moving. Jess turned away, heading for home. 

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TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "MAD" #romance #smalltownromance #lovestory

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week's word prompt is "mad." Join me for another sneak peek into "Renovating the Billionaire."

Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales. Thanks for coming. 

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Dressed in a three-piece suit, Stryker Alexander West stood outside the main room in the Pine Grove town hall building. As Jess approached the doorway, he blocked it. Raising a powerful arm across the empty space he grinned at her. But his smile didn’t make it to the ice blue eyes staring at her.

“Listen, sweetheart, blocking the destruction of that old pile of junk isn’t a good idea.”

Bristling, she pushed past him, shoving him out of the way.

“Really, honey. Do the smart thing. Give me the demolition permit.

She turned, fire spitting from her eyes. “I’m not your sweetheart. I’m not your honey. And I don’t give a damn how many people bow to your money and power. I’ll never, and I mean never, change my mind. I’ll never sign a permit for you to destroy that charming piece of history. So get over yourself and get out of my way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said, a mocking smirk slapped across his face. He grabbed her arm and whirled her around. “If someone gets hurt in that old place. I won’t be responsible. It needs to come down before something bad happens.”

He stood so close to her, she could smell his spicy aftershave and feel the warmth of his breath. What was she doing, noticing his broad shoulders and perfectly shaped scruff? The man was a menace, a power-hungry monster with no taste and no regard for history or beauty. Still, there was something about him, drawing her. She raised her gaze to his.

“Is there something about the word ‘never’ you don’t understand? Now move your sorry ass before I call the police.”

He jumped to the side with a slight bow to let her pass.

“This isn’t over, blondie. Not by a longshot.”

Every curse word she knew sounded in her head, but she kept walking. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Angry? An understatement. Madder than she’d ever been, she couldn’t figure out if her temper a reaction to his uncouth ways or her body’s betrayal.   

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TUEDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BRIDGE" - MORE OF "RENOVATING THE BILLIONAIRE"

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week, the word prompt is "bridge." I'm coninuing my story, "Renovating the Billionaire." Here's a taste. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales and the fine works you'll find there. Thanks for stopping by.

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Outside the Cozy Diner, Jess stood, half-hidden by an oak tree. A fancy car stopped just before the bridge over Cattail Creek. A man got out of the front seat and opened the door for the man in the back. What’s the matter? Doesn’t he have hands? Can’t open his own door?

The tall, dark-haired man strolled to the center of the bridge, leaving his car blocking traffic. Jess chided herself. There was no traffic at seven a.m. on a Tuesday. As she watched him, the corners of her mouth turned down.

Mr. Fancy Pants. Thinks he owns the town. Thinks he’ll tear down that house. Well, he’s got another think coming. She kept her gaze on him, tall and striking looking. Just the way he walked, almost like a swagger, exuded power. She guessed he had confidence to burn.

Checking her watch, she noted she was five minutes late, but couldn’t take her eyes off the man on the bridge. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, he shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked across at the old, dilapidated house. Pompous. In love with himself.

Put-down after put-down came to mind, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She had pies to deliver. Can’t be wastin’ time gawking at the fancy man here to destroy my dream. Maybe he’ll fall in the lake. She grinned at the image of the big city man, soaking wet, his perfectly-tailored suit, ruined and clinging to him. Water dripping down his face into his scruff.

The picture of Mr. Big Shot, rumpled, wet, and disconcerted started a sensation in a place she didn’t expect. Yep. The one word she didn’t want to admit when conjuring up the image of him wading out of the lake was, "sexy." Damn sexy.

She shook her head to clear her mind, then turned away. She started up her old rust bucket just as he returned to the backseat of his car. Jess set her lips in a firm line and steered her car to Maple Street for her next delivery. The sooner Mr. Big Bucks left town, the better.

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