|
No Ordinary Hate
-- EXCERPT: Dear Readers, When I was just a wee lad of twelve, I, too, became embroiled in a love triangle. Me, Stacy Ferndweller, and Landon Post. I loved the sweaters Stacy wore—which at the time I mistook for lust. And Landon filled out a pair of red polyester gym shorts like nobody’s business. What was a boy to do? I eventually decided to ask Stacy if I could borrow a sweater—baby pink with delicate chartreuse hearts all over it. I wore it to Landon’s soccer game and cheered him on like a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader. He was less than impressed. After the game, Landon searched me out to delicately disclose his rampant heterosexuality. He broke my heart, but alas, not my nose, so I was grateful. I decided to set him up with Stacy. It’s for this reason that I’m so attuned to the “two humans in love with the same man scenario.” But unlike Landon, Brett Kennedy is no hero. He’s a cheater and defiler of nannies. He’s a wild card run amok in the landmine of love. I’m not sure there’s a gesture big enough for Harper to consider taking him back. Tip: A boombox on top of your car isn’t going to cut it, dude. I’m skipping my workout today in favor of a good, old-fashioned mud bath. My aura needs a righteous cleanse. Dish, Ferris Biltmore Harper I hurt everywhere—my head, my eyes, my belly button. Reaching under the covers I discover that I went to bed in my jeans and the button is digging into me. Popping it open, I roll over and release a world-class groan. “Ah, you’re up.” It’s Digger’s voice but there’s no way he’s here in my cabin. “I just put on some coffee.” How is he here in my cabin? Memories start to filter into my consciousness and the heat of embarrassment washes over me. The question at hand is, how much of what I’m remembering really happened and how much did I dream? I say the only thing that comes to mind. “Hi.” “Good morning to you.” He walks fully into the room before sitting on the bed next to me. “How do you feel?” “I’m … um … not great.” Lordy, this is one gorgeous man. “You and Moira really tied one on last night.” Okay, so the memory about him picking me up and bringing me home is real. Now to figure out what happened after that. “So, did you … uh … that is to say … sleep here?” He smiles slightly while nodding his head. “In my room?” “Yup.” Son of a … did he sleep in my bed? I can’t bring myself to ask. He watches me closely before pointing across the room. “Over there in the chair.” Thank God. “Why exactly?” I’m having a devil of a time meeting his gaze. “I was getting ready for bed when Moira called, and by the time I carried you here, I was wiped out.” “I’m so sorry,” I mumble. “I’m not much of a drinker.” I chance a glance at him from under my lashes. The look on his face is so intense it’s practically melting me from the inside out. “Clearly.” He stands up and walks out of the room while saying, “I’m putting your coffee in a thermos. You can drink it on your way up to the lodge.” “No, thank you,” I call after him. “I think I’ll go back to sleep for a while.” He walks back in, shaking his head. “You’ll feel like crap all day if you do that. What you need is some fresh air, followed by a giant breakfast to soak up all the wine.” He reaches his hand out to me. I don’t want to take it, but I do. As he pulls, I moan. “I never get drunk.” “Sometimes needs must. I’m guessing Brett was the last person you expected to see up here yesterday.” 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by:
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
