TUESDAY TALES - SAUCE

 Hello and welcome. This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt "sauce." I have another excerpt from "Someone Like You." There will only be a few more from this book. Then I will be switching to the 4th book in my historical romance series. 

Once you've read my story, please stop by and read the wonderful works by the other authors. You'll find them HERE. 

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He went inside, locked up, stripped down, and washed up. Then he slid naked between the sheets. Lying there with his head propped up on his arm, he thought about Charlotte. Of course she was pretty, in a unique way. But what drew him to her was her empathy. And that she was a good listener. Boy, that was the hardest thing to find. Even in a friend. Someone who listens, who cares about you, your feelings, your triumphs, your tragedies…it was what he missed most about the loss of his wife. Nancy had been an excellent listener.

One dark thought interrupted his mental exercise of putting Charlotte on a pedestal. She wasn’t telling him everything. He sensed her reluctance to speak honestly about her life. She kept something back. He knew it. Her body language gave her away. Obviously, it was something she felt he wouldn’t like or approve of. Some dark secret. Some mystery. Had she killed someone? He laughed to himself. Uh, no, not Charlotte. She didn’t have a violent bone in her body. Still, there was something. Something she thought too dark, too bad to disclose to him. He liked that she cared enough not to want to lose him, but he frowned at the idea that she was not being totally upfront with him.

He had a pathological distrust of liars. He’d met too many in his life. Somehow liars always ended up causing you pain. It scared him to think Charlotte might be a liar and that trait might hurt him. Too in love to admit any such possibility, he shoved that thought out of his mind. Whatever Charlotte wasn’t telling him, it certainly couldn’t be evil. Might simply be something that embarrassed her. He vowed to himself to let it go. She’d tell him in her own sweet time. When she felt safe enough with him to come clean. And, if he truly loved her, he’d have to let it go at that. Trust. It was all about trust. 

   After all, fessing up, which is what he had done, was, how did the saying go, "what's' sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander?" or was it the other way around? 

That's all for this week. Thanks for stopping by.