It is so beautiful to have someone

It is so BEAUTIFUL to have someone always next to you.

Someone you always can talk to

Someone you can always love

Someone always ready

to smile at you to cook for you

to caress you to listen to you

to care for you to understand you

And after having done your job

somewhere out there and back home

you always know that

SOMEONE is waiting for you..

to LOVE you

someone... YOUR PARTNER

i love you

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 20

Bonnie blinked, then blinked again, trying to grasp what Drake was offering. It might have been easier to do if not for his rugged scent drugging her senses, or his hard body pressed against her, pulling back memories of what it could do. It blurred her thoughts, making it hard to focus.
And she needed to focus. This wasn't the time for misunderstandings.
He stared at her expectantly, waiting for the answer that tumbled about on her lips.
She thought he'd offered her a job and more if she wasn't mistaken. And he'd also said something about love. Did he say he loved her or he could love her? She couldn't remember now. But as she looked into those sparkling blue eyes, so certain and delighted, she asked herself what it mattered. She'd come here hoping that there could be something ahead for them, and in typical Drake Whitley fashion, he'd exceeded what she'd even dreamed of.
"Yes!" she heard herself say. "Yes to all of it."
"Oh, babe." He pulled her close.
He sealed it with a kiss that weakened her knees. Heat welled between her legs, three weeks of unanswered desire begging to be tended. He kissed a path under her ear and down her neck, leaving her hot and needy with every supple press. Why hadn't she caught him at his apartment where they could be alone?
He tugged her blouse from her trousers and went to work on her belt, obviously sharing her need but not her discretion.
"Aren't there people here?" she asked.
"No one who won't knock."
And with that sinful gleam giving her the okay to proceed, she shoved off her pants, held on tight and wrapped her legs around his waist.
He took her right there against the wall, filling her fast and hard with an urgency they both shared. The sensation was glorious, like finding home after being lost in a cold, dark forest for what seemed like a lifetime.
And the fact that he felt it as well touched too many places to measure.
The climax took them swiftly, mouths joined to swallow cries of joy and excitement and release. And when their bodies and minds calmed, Drake rested against her, cheek to cheek. "We're good together, Bonnie. And I don't mean just like this."
She clasped her arms around his neck, his body still seated inside her, her legs still clamped around him. The words he'd uttered were exactly the words she'd wanted to hear, the exact sentiment in her heart that she hadn't dared hope for. And she'd heard them sooner than she expected.
She kissed him. "I think so, too. But are you sure you don't need more time to think? This is sudden."
"I've never done anything slowly or carefully. Not when I know that something's right." Pressing his nose to hers, he stared into her eyes. "Think you can live with that?"
Bonnie smiled. "I'm Jimmy Bristol's daughter, remember? I'm pretty sure I can live in the fast lane."
THE END

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 19

Drake had felt it the moment he'd walked out of his office and spotted Bonnie standing in the lobby. It had hit him square between the eyes, then again as he watched her standing in his office casually browsing the photos on his wall. He hadn't needed to read her article, but had done so for good measure, making sure this revelation was truly grounded in reality.
"So what do you think?" she asked. Her beautiful aqua eyes were filled with trepidation, no doubt thanks to him. He was bungling this meeting and he knew it. It was just that so many thoughts and emotions were spinning through his mind.
His whim. His trip from Memphis. The unease in his life, and the empty feelings he'd started to have when it came to his career. This was all about Bonnie. And now that she was here, he wondered why he hadn't figured it out before.
"You're a natural, Bonnie. At racing and at writing."
Her cheeks flushed. "There's not a lot else to cover working down at The Voice."
The brush-off was her attempt at modesty, but Drake had been in this business long enough to know she had more than that. She understood the heart of what racing fans wanted, and she gave it to them in this article. Not that he'd needed her to be a good writer.
This was about much more than that.
He watched as she stood expectantly. She was dressed for business in heels and a slimming pair of trousers, her hair combed neatly and a faint spray of makeup playing up all the right features. She looked much like she had that day three weeks ago when she'd found him in the field. And when she showed up again in his office, it was as though a bright light went on in his head, making everything clear.
Bonnie was the missing link. The intangible thing he'd been looking for. The one his instinct had taken him to. But he hadn't recognized it until he'd seen her standing in his office with the New York skyline at her back.
It seemed so obvious now, how right she was here. He'd been confused because he hadn't been looking for a lover. But the woman who stood before him wasn't merely a lover. She was a life partner. A soul mate. The missing piece that would fill the void that had somehow grown inside him. And she belonged in this office just as sure as she belonged at home in his bed.
Rising from his desk, he stepped to her, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips. "I'm glad you came."
Her mouth bobbed. Her eyes dropped to his lips. "You're satisfied with the article?"
He cupped her beautiful face in his hands. "No, I'm not satisfied with just an article."
A heavy swallow curled down the planes of her throat. "I don't understand."
He tasted her lips. "Neither did I until now."
But now he did. Plain as day. And suddenly everything wrong with his life righted and snapped in place.
He nudged her back against the wall, slipping his hands around her waist and pulling her up close. "What would you think about moving to New York?"
She blinked back what looked like tears welling in her eyes. Were they tears of joy or regret?
He kissed her long and deep, deciding to express with his body what was missing in his words. "I'm not mistaken when I say," he uttered between tastes, "that you're a woman I could find myself falling in love with."
He brushed a lock of silky hair from her face and tried to read her expression. Were these all good words or bad? He couldn't tell through the pounding of his heart and the churning in his stomach.
"Come be with me," he urged. "I'll show you as much of the world as you want to see, give you all the challenges you desire. Just give me your heart and tell me this could work."
He studied her face, trying to anticipate her answer.
"What do you say, Bonnie? You and me."

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 18

The double glass doors read High Velocity Magazine, and Bonnie stepped from the elevator toward them, holding her finished article in her hand. This wasn't the first time Bonnie had been in New York. It was the traveling she and her mother had done with Jimmy that had given Bonnie the itch to live somewhere bigger than Dahlia, Tennessee. But this was the first time she'd come as a free adult with options in tow.
Options like setting up house in New York, if a special someone might ask.
She shoved down the thought. She'd worked hard to temper her anticipation ever since she'd called Drake and told him she'd be in town. The pleasure in his voice had given her all kinds of ideas. Bad ones. Ones that involved him asking her to stay in New York so they could pursue what they'd started back home.
It was dumb and foolish and she knew it. Definitely not the kind of thinking she'd ever expected of herself. A month ago she would have laughed at the idea of chasing after a man. Then again, a month ago, she hadn't met Drake Whitley. And though Bonnie had been casual about her reasons for taking this trip, in reality she'd needed to come here. She had to see him one more time to find out if there could be more between them or if she needed to close the door on Drake for good.
She stepped into the office, taking in the surroundings as she made her way across the spacious room. It felt like him—rugged but refined, the decor a mix of leather and suede and dark chunky wood, just what she would have expected. She crossed to the young woman seated at the desk, but before she could introduce herself, she heard the voice from the hall.
"Bonnie."
A smile spread her lips when she spotted Drake. His tousled hair was combed, and his casual jeans had been traded in for a sharply fitted shirt and fine tailored slacks.
It only made him more handsome.
Grinning, he stepped over and put a hand on her arm. The warmth from his fingers surged through her veins. In three weeks, if she'd at all forgotten how good he'd felt, it came back tenfold in the act of that simple touch.
"You look great," he said, studying her for an extra moment as he took her hand in his. He had a strange look on his face, one she couldn't quite read, but before she could question it, he blinked it off and led her back to his office.
They made small talk, Drake growing more and more distracted as she perused his office, and it began to rattle her nerves. Though she hadn't known what to expect from this meeting, awkwardness began to fill the space between them. And the more they chatted, the more she felt like this reunion wouldn't turn out as she'd hoped.
"Have I come at a bad time?" she asked, thinking maybe there was something going on here that had nothing to do with her. But instead of answering, he simply stared at her, almost as though he didn't know her.
"No, this time is fine," he finally said. He slipped to his seat. "Let's…um…see what you've brought."
A stab of hurt shot through her that she tried to hide by moving to the window and taking in the New York skyline. She'd feared this, the reality that what they'd had back in Dahlia wouldn't translate to Drake's world. And now that she was here, facing it head-on, she wondered what she'd been thinking. She was obviously making him nervous, which wasn't at all the warm reception she'd hoped to find. He must have seen an expectation in her eyes that unnerved him, and now he was fumbling, trying to figure out how to let her down easy.
And if that was the case, she needed to pull herself together before she butchered her pride.
She reminded herself that in the end, this was for the best. If she hadn't come back here to see for herself, she would have spent countless months—maybe years—wondering if something could have developed between them. So while this might be crushing now, at least she could bring closure and move on. Because looking at him behind that big walnut desk, it all became clear as crystal.
What they had back in Tennessee was done and gone.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 17

Drake stared out the tall windows of his Manhattan apartment, holding a Scotch in his hand and telling himself for the umpteenth time that he'd done the right thing. Hell, he'd done better than the right thing. After all, how many women got a home and a magazine contract out of a three-day fling?
It had been more than a week since he'd left Dahlia. Bonnie had called to thank him for paying off the loan on Bristol House, telling him the gesture had been too generous—although she hadn't declined it. The memory made him smile. He would have thought less of her if she'd insisted he take the money back, but she hadn't, smart woman. Instead, she'd handed the phone over to her teary mother who'd called him everything from a saint to a savior.
Right now, he should be standing here happy that he'd been able to put some of his power and money toward a just and worthy cause. Instead, he was drowning his misery in a drink, staring at the dingy gray streets of New York and feeling as though he'd cut and run from something that might have been truly wonderful.
Because that's exactly what you did, cowboy. You felt the twang of something like love and it spooked you. And instead of having the guts to explore it, you paid off your conscience and hightailed it out of Dodge.
He slugged back the last of his drink to drown out the voice. That whole notion was ridiculous. He'd gotten caught up in a fantasy affair in a dreamlike town full of fast cars and racing legends and steaming-hot sex. None of it translated to the real world he lived in, and he knew better than to try to bring a slice of it home. Like putting sand in a bottle and pretending it was the ocean. There was a time and place for everything, and when it came to him and Bonnie, that had been three glorious days in Dahlia, Tennessee. End of subject.
So why can't you put her out of your mind?
Cursing, he moved to the bar and poured himself another drink. Two weeks ago, he'd been so sure of his life. He'd taken that drive out of Memphis on a whim. It had been the same kind of whim that had set him off from Austin to New York ten years ago. Nothing logical, no real plans, just a feeling in his gut.
The first time around, that whim had changed his life for the better. He'd ended up with a magazine and a ton of money and an exciting life he more or less loved. This time, it had only taken a restless spirit and churned it into pieces. He'd come back home feeling worse than when he'd left, and he didn't have the damnedest clue what to do about it.
And not only that, but this time he was plum out of whims.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 16

Bonnie and her mother worked outside in the back garden of Bristol House, pulling small weeds and tending to the wide rows of early sugar peas they'd planted after the frost. The gentle vines wound themselves up the trellises sprouting the pretty white blooms that would soon be the plants' succulent treats.
It seemed silly to be wasting energy out here. By the time the peas were ready for picking, she and her mother would have surrendered the home to the bank. All of this around them would fall into disarray after the house fell vacant, waiting for the auction that would hand it over to a new owner.
The thought brought tears to Bonnie's eyes that she quickly stifled. Her mother was barely holding herself together, running on autopilot in an attempt to keep a stiff spine even though her heart was crushed.
"I can get it back," Bonnie said, speaking to herself as much as her mother.
Sarah looked up from the herbs she'd been clipping for the scones she'd bake later. "How do you figure?"
"Property is always for sale, Momma. The house isn't going anywhere. Once I get a good-paying job, I can always buy it back from whoever ends up with it."
Her mother smiled and simply shook her head. "I think it's time you started thinking about yourself, child. You've spent enough years trying to clean up your father's mistakes. I know you did what you could and I'll always love you for that. Now, I just want to see you happy."
Those were the words Bonnie had waited to hear ever since her father died—the free pass to move on with her life and pursue what she'd always wanted. Unfortunately, she couldn't shake the feeling that what she wanted had flown out of Nashville the day before.
It was stupid, pining away for a man she'd only known for three days. How could she seriously think they'd end up with something special? They'd barely gotten to know each other. She had no idea how he really lived or how the two of them would fare over the ups and downs of everyday life. For all she knew, he could be an ogre on the job. He could have wandering eyes like her father. He could be looking for a wife who would shut up and look pretty for him while he did what he wanted and kept her contained. He could hate kids and puppies for all she knew. So why was she fretting over the loss?
Because you know in your heart that none of those things are true.
For the twentieth time today, she reminded herself that it didn't matter. She couldn't go running off with a man. Not now. Not with her mother facing the most difficult time of her life.
"I'll be happy, Momma, when we own this house free and clear and know that no one can take it away."
Her cell phone rang and she pulled off her gloves and checked the caller ID. "Speak of the devil," she muttered when she saw the mortgage company's name on the screen.
They were probably calling to confirm she'd found the notice on the door two days ago. Though she wanted to let it roll to voice mail, she decided it wasn't worth delaying the inevitable, so she flipped open the phone and said, "Hello?"
"Is Sarah or Bonnie Bristol there?"
"This is Bonnie."
"Hi. This is Wendy Sinclair at West Side Mortgage. I'm calling about the lien on the property at 24 Berry Hill Drive."
Bonnie rose to her feet, using the gloves to brush the soft dirt from her knees while the woman continued to explain. And when it finally sunk in why she was calling, the gloves slipped from Bonnie's hand and dropped to the ground.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 15

Drake crushed his mouth to Bonnie's and held on tight, feeling as though he needed to drink up as much of this woman as he could possibly store and take with him. Because if he hadn't seen it before, he knew now without a doubt that first thing tomorrow morning he needed to get out of town.
He didn’t want this ache in his heart, or the dangerous thoughts running through his head. Bonnie Bristol was getting to him, and he didn't like it one bit.
Over the last three days, the tall, stunning beauty had been unwittingly plundering his resolve. In the intensity of their sex, in the strength of her spirit and the sharpness of her mind, in those beautiful eyes and those mind-numbing curves, she was seeping into parts of his soul he wasn't prepared to share just yet.
Straddling his waist, she moved her glorious body in a rhythm that pulled him deeper. Every time they had sex, she seemed to know him better, to thrust him higher and spin him further into a climax that got more pleasurable every time. And if it was only sex, he'd be fine with that. But it wasn't. Somewhere in the last couple days, sex had turned to lovemaking, attraction had turned to affection and desire had turned to need.
It scared the wits from him, and he responded by sinking farther into her flesh, swiping his thoughts away with his mouth, his hands and his cock. His body swelled inside her, speeding swiftly to the edge, and though in the past he'd tried to temper the rush, this time he let it come. He needed this to end, yet wanted it to go on forever, so instead he pulled them both faster and faster toward a sharp and jutting end.
Sweat glistened over her as she kept up the pace, her breath turning to the shallow pants that he'd learned was the signal she was near. "Come on, baby," he urged, not holding back and not wanting her to, either.
"It's coming fast," she warned. "I can't—" But the sensation stole her words.
He latched on to a breast and sucked hard, twirling the nipple with his tongue then moving to the other as she lifted and thrust, stroking him to the brink. He could feel her body crumbling, the slick swell of flesh around him as she hammered against him once, again, then one too many times. And then, with a bellow that echoed through the room, she split apart, taking the last of him with her.
White heat blinded him as he spilled and spilled, the orgasm draining him of all he had to offer, though it still didn't feel like enough.
He cursed through it, angry with himself that he'd let her get under his skin. From the start, this trip had taken a wrong turn and he hadn't been able to right it. He'd kept following his whims, thinking they would lead him to answers, but they'd only left him dazed, starved and confused.
It was this damnable situation, he knew it. Bonnie was lively and sexy and in trouble. A beautiful damsel in distress, and he was falling into it like a silly lovesick schoolboy. Drake had no doubt that all he needed to do was get out of Dahlia, get away from this mess she was in and his life would find its way back to normal. Whatever normal had been.
So as their rhythmic motion calmed and the resonant climax subsided, he held her tight, closed his eyes and mapped out a plan.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 14

"I'm sorry," Drake whispered, touching his lips to Bonnie's as he cupped her face and brushed a tender thumb across her cheek. The soothing gesture spilled over her like a steamy, relaxing shower.
It had been a long time since Bonnie had anyone to lean on. While her mother had always been a strong woman, these problems Jimmy had left behind had taken a toll on her, and over the last six months, Bonnie had been the pillar of strength Sarah Bristol had needed. Until now, Bonnie hadn't realized how much energy that had taken to maintain.
Accepting his gentle comfort, she guided his hands up under her shirt, releasing a long sigh when the warmth encased her and placed her blood on a slow simmer. Amazing, how it took only his touch to slip her mind and body into a space where nothing mattered and time stood still. And if there were ever a time when she needed that distraction, it was now.
While her fingers went to work releasing the buttons of his shirt, he feasted on her most sensitive places, easing her mind from worry to the pleasure he had to offer. She pulled off clothing that got in the way and nudged them toward the front parlor, spying her grandmother's old stuffy sofa and guiding him there, where they had better access to each other. She tossed the last of her clothing before straddling his lap and settling over him, the firm feel of his body under hers setting the wheels in motion.
She touched his face and planted a slow, deep kiss on his lips, relishing the taste of him, the way that jaw felt in her palms, his sharp, woodsy scent and those fabulous hands that knew exactly how to please her. His hot mouth blazed a path from her lips to the base of her neck, and she titled her head back to better enjoy it, letting her silky moan encourage him to keep going.
Skimming her fingers down his stomach, she tugged against his jeans, the last barrier that stood between them. "These need to go," she said.
He stopped for a moment to tug a condom from his pocket, one he used to sheath himself after she pulled open his jeans and released his ready length. The man was hard and thick, the simple sight of the erection churning her blood to a boil, and as she glided her needy body onto him, all the empty places in her spirit seemed to fill.
"You're so incredibly beautiful," he said, clasping his big hands to her waist and coaxing her into a smooth and steady rhythm.
The look in his eyes said those words were more than a simple compliment, and for the first time since they'd started this encounter, she noted something different on his face. Something had come over him, a contemplation she hadn't seen before. She tried to study it, to hear the thoughts that might be driving it, but before she could get too far, he whispered a thumb down to her sex and began circling the slick sensitive spot.
She gasped at the sharp sensation, digging her fingers into his shoulders as she braced for the steady stream of pleasure that ebbed and flowed like the tide.
"I love the way you do that," she moaned, but instead of bringing a smile, the serious intent in his eyes simply darkened.
She wanted to know what it was, wanted to understand what was behind this new expression, but his hands and body kept conspiring to snatch her thoughts. His thumb caressed her while his thick shaft hardened and probed, the two working together to push her toward that familiar edge. But still, something had changed. Something she couldn't quite grasp until he hooked his hand around the base of her neck and pulled her mouth to his.
And then she felt it. In the hunger of those lips, in the heady stroke of his tongue, in the fierce clutch of his hands.
Drake Whitley was leaving, and this night would be their last.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 13

Oh, God," Bonnie said as she and Drake took the steps up the porch of Bristol House.
Drake looked up to see an official-looking sign taped to the door. Bonnie quickly tore it down, but not before he had a chance to notice it looked like an order to vacate the home.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Something I don't want Momma to see."
It was late and they'd just gotten back from having dinner at Headlights, a local restaurant and watering hole.
"She was going to run some errands before heading to work," Bonnie added. "I'm hoping this was posted after she left." She held the paper in her hands and looked at it with an expression of sorrow that tore something inside him. "I'm almost sure she hasn't seen this or she would have called."
"Are you two being kicked out?" he asked, already knowing by the look on her face that it was true.
As they walked into the house and settled in the kitchen, Bonnie told him again about the debt Jimmy had left behind, though this time she explained the gravity of the situation. They were so far into default on the mortgage that she and her mother were losing the home.
"It's not that we didn't see it coming," Bonnie said. "Momma's already making arrangements to move in with her sister, Stella. She's got the job, and without the burden of the B and B, she'll have saved enough to get a place of her own sooner or later."
Though Bonnie was trying to lighten the situation with a calm expression on her face, her eyes gave away the truth that in reality this B and B had meant everything to her mother.
He recalled Sarah's comment from a couple days before, the one about Bonnie finally being able to leave. It gave him lots of ideas he wasn't prepared for or willing to consider given his own state of flux, but he found himself asking the question nonetheless.
"So you'll be able to pursue that job with National Geographic?"
She smiled, albeit grimly. "Not for a while, at least. We'll have a lot to deal with. Though we've sold off most of Daddy's things, this house is filled with antiques that have been on my momma's side of the family for generations. We'll have to figure out what to do with them, what can stay, what can go." She glanced at the crumpled page she was still holding. "And by the looks of things, we won't have a lot of time."
She folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. "She's going to need me to get through this. Then maybe next year I can start thinking about what to do with my life."
A sudden urge came over Drake to blurt out all kinds of suggestions—like maybe paying off her mortgage and bringing her to New York, about offering her a job at the magazine, telling her she could see the world the way she wanted by coming with him. It hit him so quickly, he nearly opened his mouth and uttered each and every one, and it both startled and unnerved him.
So he did the most surefire thing he could to make sure the words didn't come tumbling out. He pulled her close and covered his mouth with hers.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 12

When it came to love affairs, Bonnie lived by two rules: never let a man break your heart, and never let a man cause you to give up your dreams.
With the two going very much hand in hand, she'd had a pretty easy time living by them so far. There were a couple guys in town she'd never gotten close to because she knew she'd enjoy them too much. While they'd made passes over the years, she'd held them off, knowing that there was too much heat there, too much attraction for her safety. Thanks to their particular traits and close proximity, it would have only been a matter of time before they'd had her losing her heart or losing the life away from Dahlia she'd always wanted. Most likely both. So she'd done a good job staying away. Instead, she'd whet her healthy sex drive on the speedway traffic that came and went. After all, how could a woman lose herself to a man over the span of a three-day fling?
The answer stood in front of her, curling her insides with his gorgeous Texas smile and sharp New York wit.
What a lethal combination. One she hadn't seen coming until it was nearly too late.
For a second day in a row, they'd made their rounds through the town. She'd brought him to the speedway to meet Drew Fisk, the track's manager. And now they were finishing up at Morgan & Son's garage where Tater, George and Artie were swapping stories. Bonnie was taking notes, which seemed easy enough if only she could keep her mind on the article instead of the sexy cowboy she couldn't seem to get enough of.
Last night, they'd had sex on her mother's kitchen table, then again on the stairs, neither of them able to quite make it to the bedroom without noting an interesting opportunity presented by a long, steep stairway and a wooden handrail.
And then they'd made it to bed where the real fun had started.
They'd had two glorious nights of sex, and while she could handle a dozen more, she had to admit to herself, this desire was quickly getting more than physical. Drake wasn't the typical stud who waltzed into town and then back out. He was the kind to slip into her heart if she wasn't real careful.
"So the truck will be picking up the Lamborghini tomorrow," Drake said. "I'm having it shipped back home while I fly back to New York instead."
"You taking off outta Nashville?" Artie asked.
Drake nodded. "Yeah, I should probably call the airlines and see how often the flights go out."
Bonnie blinked, realizing that over the last couple days, she had forgotten all about Drake's car and his plans and his life beyond the city limits of Dahlia. It struck her with a mix of sadness, anger and relief—sadness that her time with him was apparently ending, anger that the prospect hurt so much and relief in knowing that the man would be leaving town before that hurt could grow into full-blown heartache. Life had handed Bonnie enough raw deals; getting torn up over a temporary fling was a luxury she couldn't afford.
Still, she couldn't shake off that resonant feeling of loss. She'd connected with Drake, appreciated his respect for her and cherished the heat they had in bed. In another time and place, she would have loved to see where they could take it.
Come on, Bonnie, you know you want to see where this could go right now.
She stiffened her shoulders and jutted her chin, not willing to let her emotions get the best of her. Almost a decade in the dating game and she hadn't let anyone steal her heart yet. She wasn't about to start now.
So why did it feel like it had already happened?

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 11

If there was one thing Drake had not expected Bonnie to be good at, it would be anything involving domestics. Yet, without any noticeable fuss, she'd thrown together a roasted pork stew that was so good he nearly sobbed over the bowl.
Despite all the fine restaurants in Manhattan, nothing could match real home cooking. It was one on a short list of things he missed about his family's ranch, and the twice yearly visits back home didn't give him enough of it.
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" he asked, buttering his third helping of corn fritters.
"Grandma Parson owned a restaurant in town and both my momma and I practically grew up there. She's passed now and the restaurant's long gone, but Momma and I are trying to keep up the tradition here at the B and B."
She finished the last of her stew and pushed the bowl away. "You should try Momma's biscuits and gravy. It's her specialty."
He looked up from his plate excitedly. "Can I?"
She laughed. "Just say the word. I think she's sweet on you."
"I'm sweet on her," he said, and he meant it. When he'd met Sarah Bristol earlier he’d instantly taken a shine. She was one of those salt-of-the-earth types he often found during his travels through the South. And though much of Bonnie's spit and fire had to have come from Jimmy, Drake could also see the softer side of Sarah seeping through.
It made for a nice combination, he thought to himself. In fact, every layer Bonnie unpeeled seemed to reveal a shiny new jewel inside.
They'd spent the day touring the town, throwing around ideas for the article. Drake quickly noted she had good instincts, and the more they talked the more he knew the final product she delivered would be quality work.
Work too good for the Dahlia Voice. You should be offering her your bed and a job.
Now, there it went again, the stupid voice that wouldn't stop nagging him. The one that kept insinuating that he'd found a prize he needed to claim, and Drake had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't out to play for keeps. He hadn't gone on this trip to fix his love life. In fact, his love life was the one thing he'd had happily under control. No, this trip was supposed to resolve his general anxiety, not create new problems. Especially when it appeared Bonnie had enough problems of her own.
"You okay?" she asked, stirring him from his thoughts. "You're staring into space like you've just spotted a ghost."
In a way, he had—the ghost of his happy love life. Then he remembered that no one was asking anything from him here, most certainly not Bonnie.
He shook his head. "My mind just wandered, is all."
That deadly look came over her, the one he was learning to recognize as the precursor to something both sinful and divine.
Shoving the plates aside, she slipped up on the large oak table and spread her legs before him. "Well, what can I do to wander it right back?"
She pulled her thin pink T-shirt off as if to make a suggestion.
He rose and took those luscious bare breasts in his palms. Oh, Bonnie, you always have exactly the right idea.
She grabbed his hips and pulled him between her legs. "Yep, I figured this table would be about the right height." Then she stopped, placed a hand to her lips and blinked those big eyes in mock innocence. "Oh, you weren't still eating, were you?"
The comedic expression got him chuckling and hard and forgetting about their problems and the dumb voice in his head. "Yes, actually, I was still eating." He pressed his lips to hers and took a long, sumptuous taste. "But you're the cook. If you want to change the meal, who am I to argue?"

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 10

If Drake had his way, he and Bonnie would be spending another night in Nashville. Maybe three. After all, he'd gone on this trip to get away from the bustle and do a little soul searching, and while he hadn't come up with any major revelations, he was sure having fun. But though he might be able to take off on a whim, he realized the rest of the world had jobs to do.
He checked the clock on the dash of his rental car and noted that it would be almost 10:00 a.m. before they got back to Dahlia.
"You won't be late?" he asked, trying to remember if she'd told him what she did for a living. While he'd gotten to know her intimately last night, conversation hadn't had much to do with it.
"No. I'm a reporter so I mostly make my own hours."
He looked at her curiously. "A reporter?"
"I'm one of two field reporters for the Dahlia Voice. It's not a big publication, but it pays some bills and leaves my nights free to help Momma out with Bristol House. She waitresses nights so I take over for her by handling the dinner hour."
"Sounds like a handful for the two of you."
She shrugged. "Well, folks gotta do what folks gotta do."
He remembered the argument he'd overheard the day before, both Bonnie and her mother upset and her mother's comment about Bonnie leaving Dahlia.
"What would you do if there was no 'gotta' involved?" he asked.
"I wouldn't be wasting away in Dahlia, that's for sure."
"You don't like it there?"
She cracked a knowing smile. "Would you?"
He didn't have to think long to answer that one. "No."
Even Austin, Texas, hadn't been enough for him. Sure, he enjoyed going home for visits, but Drake couldn't imagine being tied to his family's ranch the way his brothers were. And as he got to know Bonnie, he couldn't see her chained to a bed-and-breakfast for the rest of her life.
"Don't get me wrong," she said. "I love Dahlia and it will always be home, but when I took off to study journalism, I'd had my sites set closer to National Geographic than the Dahlia Voice."
"What happened?"
"My father died and we found out where he'd gotten all the money he'd been throwing around." She shook her head and stared out the window, the resonant anger clear in her voice. "We always knew he was a gambler. We just hadn't known to what degree."
"Until he died."
She nodded. "Momma discovered he'd mortgaged out the home that had been in her family since the town was founded. There was no way she could make the payment with what little he'd left in savings. So we sold what we could and turned it into a B and B. Momma took a night job at the restaurant and I left college four credits short of my degree."
Drake was saddened but not surprised. Jimmy Bristol's reputation supported everything she said.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She shrugged it off. "Don't be. National Geographic wouldn't have taken me without experience anyway, so I'm getting my feet wet at home."
"You know, when I first pulled off I-40, I wanted to check out the Dahlia Speedway for a possible article. Would you be interested in freelancing it for me?"
She looked like he'd just handed her the deed to the Taj Mahal. "You serious?"
"Who better to write a feature on the place than the woman who grew up in the middle of it? Besides, with the Bristol name, you'd bring more interest to the article than one of my staff writers. And you'd be saving me the travel expenses."
It took her half a blink to say yes. "Can you stay in town another day? I can take you over to the speedway and we can toss ideas."
For a repeat of last night, he'd spend the week, but he kept that part to himself. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea about his motivations. In truth, he'd never have made the offer if he didn't have faith that she'd do a good job. This wasn't about getting more sex or offering a handout. Bonnie's article, along with her name, would easily pay off for the magazine, he was sure.
Though, if she were so inclined to spend another night or two in his bed, he wasn't going to turn her away.
"I think that sounds like a great idea."

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 9

This was, without a doubt, the best time Bonnie had had in as long as she could remember. Somehow, what should have been a quick drink and an even quicker romp in the hay had turned into an evening of dancing, dining, mind-blowing sex and now movies in bed with a pile of Nashville's best hot wings.
Drake licked the spicy sauce from his fingers and grabbed his beer from the nightstand. "I can't believe you've never seen Smokey and the Bandit before. What kind of Southern racing gal are you?"
Somehow between orgasms they'd stumbled on the conversation of movie car chases, and the next thing she knew, Drake was on the phone ordering movies, drinks and her favorite chicken wings using a pricey delivery service that would bring anything from anywhere as long as one had the money to pay for it.
It was a lifestyle Bonnie could easily get used to. Though she had to admit, when it came to Drake she suspected she'd have just as much fun in a tent in the Ozarks as she would being treated to luxury. In this short span of a day, she'd learned quite a bit about him, including the fact that he shared her same hunger for life. Like Bonnie, Drake didn't say no too much and wasn't afraid to go after the things he wanted. It was exactly the way she lived—or would be living if her father hadn't left her saddled with a pile of debt and responsibility.
Shaking off that thought—because she wasn't going to let anything ruin this perfect night—she went back to Drake and his slam against her Tennessee roots.
"I'm a Southerner who wasn't born until the eighties," she said.
"That was well into the age of VCRs." He slugged back his beer and set it down. "Jimmy Bristol's daughter should have been raised to memorize all the classic car chase movies. Tell me you've at least seen Bullitt."
"I've seen Bullitt. And The French Connection, and my personal choice, Mad Max."
He overexaggerated a sigh. "That's a good thing. For a minute there, I thought I'd have to replace you."
She arched her brow at him. "You replace me?"
He grinned, obviously enjoying the fiery look of affront in her eyes.
"I have standards," he said. Now he was nearly chuckling as he took the bucket of hot wings and set it aside. It was a smart move on his part given that she was just about to find a creative use for those leftover chicken bones.
She wadded up her napkin and threw it to the ground. "I think you're mistaking me for someone who can't whip your ass."
Now he did laugh. "Oh, honey, I'm counting on it."
With the friendly flames of challenge singeing her smile, she proceeded to show him exactly what she could do to a man who insulted her character. It started with an elbow to the chest that turned into a wrestling match. All it did was get him hard. So she straddled his waist for more leverage, but that only resulted in his cock inside her, his mouth on her breasts and her body grinding them toward another pounding climax.
She reveled in sex this way, with her on top, leaving his hands free to toy with all her sensitized parts. She rode him hard and fast, the quick thrusts testing the limits of her endurance as she churned and rocked.
And the faster she moved, the more serious his dazzling blue eyes turned.
Gone was the teasing smile on his face, replaced by the desperate struggle of a man on the edge. She liked seeing him there, liked the pain of those strong hands gripping her hips as she pushed and plunged. But most of all, she liked to see him buckle and break when his climax took control. And when it did, she broke off her own restraint and sailed away, too.
Completed, but not beaten, she collapsed on his chest, her body sated and tired and her spirit well fed. She listened to the pounding of his heart as his chest rose and fell under her cheek. Then she listened while it calmed and slowed.
"Gee," he finally said, his voice tired but laced with pleasure. "What else can I do to piss you off?"

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 8

Drake couldn't think of anything sexier than watching a woman lose herself to orgasm. And nothing made him feel more like a man than being the one responsible. Especially when the woman was Bonnie Bristol.
He loved seeing that tough exterior of hers dissolve under his fingers, watching those worry lines on her brow soften then disappear. But most of all, he loved seeing her relinquish control.
He got the impression it didn't happen often, that Bonnie was someone who kept herself firmly on top. And make no mistake, Drake was always open to letting a woman take the lead. But first he liked to know that sex could be a two-way street, and his lovely companion hadn't disappointed.
With her expression sated and her body still quivering with remnant pleasure, he slid on a condom and settled over her.
"You look as though your rotten day is improving," he said.
She smiled. "It's on the rise."
She lifted her hands and smoothed them down his back, sending a tremor over his spine that hardened his already aching shaft.
"How about you?" she asked. "You're the one who wrecked his new and expensive toy today." She glided her hands lower and cupped his ass. "I'm wondering what might make you feel better."
"How about this?"
He parted her legs and slipped inside, slow and easy, her smooth heat encasing him, snatching any more words from his throat and replacing them with a low, sultry groan. She fit him like a fine supple glove, her muscles contracting as he filled her in one long, hot stroke. The mere perfection of it nearly did him in right there, and he had to hold for a moment, staring into those beautiful blue-green eyes while he waited for his anxious body to calm.
He studied her lips, moist and pink to match the flush of her cheeks. She looked sexy and wild, yet soft and vulnerable, and as he watched her, he found himself intrigued by the paradox that was this woman. Lying beneath him, her willing body spread out to accept him, he could see a strength that went bone deep, yet those eyes revealed a side that was unmistakably gentle.
He liked the combination, liked the way it settled in his gut. And as he gently began moving in a slow, even stroke, he found he liked the way she melted into his body, too.
Those gentle eyes darkened as she thrust to meet his rhythm, the steady motion building new tension, sending her toward another heavy climax. He couldn’t stop watching her, seeing the transformation from sated to hungry to burning as he picked up speed and sent her careening. Lacing her fingers in his, he held on tight as the pressure built to the point of bursting. So close to the edge, he shut his mind from it to hold on a little longer. He wanted to feel her explode, to feel the pain of those slim fingers clinging tightly as she came apart beneath him, and he wasn't about to let this end until that happened.
It was strange for him to be so fixated on his partner. While not a selfish lover, his thoughts were usually grounded in his own pleasure. But tonight, he seemed to feed off hers. There was an excitement about her, an anticipation for the moment that made this journey about more than sex with a stranger. And when those eyes finally closed and the heat between them took her over, that pleasant cry was all he needed to go tumbling along after.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 7

It wasn't like Drake had never made love to a beautiful woman before. He'd had plenty in his thirty-four years. What was new and foreign this time was how badly he wanted her. Somehow, when it came to Bonnie, simple desire had been trumped by deep guttural need, and as he tore his clothes off and looked at her body in all its naked glory his mouth literally watered for it.
The feeling left him a little unsettled. He liked his love life exactly the way it was—light, simple and totally without strings. Drake wasn't in the market for more than a fling. Feeling a hunger this deep for someone he'd be leaving behind stuck a thorn in his side that he chose to ignore for the time being.
It was the situation, he told himself. He'd been restless back in New York, and this trip was supposed to have relieved it. Instead, he'd wrecked his new car, ruined his plans and had immediately run into a sexy woman with problems of her own. This was simply garden-variety attraction kicked up a notch by mutual sympathy for each other's woes. He was sure of it.
So with that reassurance paving the way, he let his reservations go and dug in to enjoy the ride.
Their clothes shed, he took her hand and pulled her close. He'd liked the way she'd felt against him on the dance floor and wanted more of the same without the pesky distractions.
"See," she said, "this is so much better without all those people."
"Or the clothes," he concurred.
He cupped her breasts in his palms, perfect handfuls that offered plenty to fondle without having too much get in the way. She smelled like spring flowers and felt like pure sin, the sultry combination warming his blood and setting the mood for lots of wonderful things to come.
He slid his hands down her firm waist, over long lean thighs, taking in all the smooth curves like a topographer studies a map. He loved how perfectly they fit together, waist to waist, slick heat to hard flesh. It was as if she were built to his unique specifications, and it gave him a number of ideas for things they'd be capable of doing without even needing a bed. He wanted to get to know her—what made her shudder, what made her ache, and he wondered how much time he'd need to have all her nuances figured out.
Maybe a lifetime, buddy boy.
The stupid voice didn't sit right with him, but before it could cool his mood, Bonnie clasped his hips and smoothed her body against him, wiping his mind of all but sex and setting his intentions back where they belonged.
Sweet, seductive Bonnie Bristol. You have exactly the right idea.
Bonnie sighed as Drake set her down on the bed, his talented hands working wonders to relieve the anxiety she'd been harboring for months. Every inch of him was hard and firm, like sculpted stone covered in silky flesh. And the feel of that strength surrounding her body was nothing short of ecstasy.
He cradled his thigh between her legs and she rocked against it, slow and deliberate, as he licked and sucked her breasts. His tongue swept like liquid gold, covering her with the smooth sensation of satin drizzled over her skin. And when he gripped her waist and thrust her sex against him, hot spasms of pleasure made her gasp.
"Mmmm," he moaned. "I take it you like that?" Trailing a finger down her belly, he stopped at the apex of her thighs. "How about more?"
She opened her mouth to answer but before she could, he slipped a thumb between her folds and stole the breath from her lungs.
She closed her eyes and groaned, her ability to do much else draining away with every smooth stroke. It was as though the man had more than two hands, his fingers, legs, mouth and chest all working together to bring sensation to every corner of her body. One moment he ground against her, the next he was square on top, stroking his length along her sex, teasing her toward the edge then changing motion right at the brink. It seemed he enjoyed keeping her at the height of arousal without granting her that heavenly release.
She closed her eyes and let all her problems spill away, the disappointment that was her life, the grim outlook of her future evaporating just like she'd needed it to, if only for this little while. Beneath his grasp, nothing real in the world existed. And when he dipped his mouth between her thighs and traced that silky tongue right where it mattered most, that succulent climax came swift and hard.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 6

A shot of Jack or a night of sweaty sex with a hot, studly man. Bonnie had figured either of those things would pull her out of her gloom, and damn if she didn't have both of them right here at her fingertips.
She slugged back the shot and let the burn water her eyes and pucker her lips. "Oh, that stuff is horrible," she said through a wheeze.
Drake sipped his beer. "Then why do you drink it?"
"I hate the taste of alcohol, so when I'm looking for a buzz, I go for the most direct route."
"Well, that'll do it for sure." He waved over the bartender and pointed to her glass.
"No, thanks," Bonnie said. "I'll take a Coke from here on out."
While she'd needed the dose of courage, she didn't care to lose her head. If the rest of her evening went as she hoped, she'd want all her faculties to enjoy the sinful specimen sitting next to her.
She'd talked Drake into taking her up to Nashville for drinks and dancing at the Last Day Saloon. She'd chosen the spot not only for the nightly live music, but because the saloon also happened to be located on the bottom floor of the Sundowner Hotel. If she and Drake were so inclined to share a room for the night, they wouldn't have to go far.
And though Bonnie couldn't speak for her companion, she knew that she was most definitely so inclined.
The bartender brought her Coke and she took a quick sip before sliding off her stool and grabbing Drake's hand. "Listen to that, they're playing my song."
He regarded her quizzically, but followed nonetheless. "All My Exes Live in Texas?"
"I'm a huge George Strait fan."
Gripping his hand, she led him to the old oak dance floor where she learned quickly that though he was a big New York magazine executive, at his core Drake Whitley was pure Texas cowboy. He danced like a pro, making it hard for her to keep up. But when the song ended and the music slowed, she got what she'd really come here for.
He slipped his hand around her waist, drawing her close and filling all her curves with the sensation of hard, rugged man. Fingers laced, thighs rubbing against thighs, her breasts molded into his torso, the height of him fitting nicely against her five-foot-ten frame. Bonnie didn't often find men tall enough to settle in like they should, and it was a rare experience to place a hand on his shoulder and actually tilt her head up to meet his eyes.
It was a wonderful feeling, especially when those eyes reflected back enough lust and attraction to turn her to putty in his arms.
"I think this is my song," he said, his gaze dipping to her lips.
Reflexively, she moistened them, slipping her tongue across her mouth and turning those flames in his eyes to bonfires. Slowly, they rocked to the music, more a smooth caress than a dance, and Bonnie noted his growing interest forming in the bulge against her waist. The thick length put an ache between her legs as it pressed against her like a promise of carnal pleasure. She wanted to feel it unconfined, to take the silky flesh in her hands and taste it on her tongue.
He slid his hand lower down her spine, his little finger tickling her bottom as his chest expanded and contracted with slow, deliberate breath. She felt nearly driven to the edge simply moving against him on a loud and crowded dance floor. What could he do to her in the quiet comfort of a private room?
She intended to find out.
Moving her hand off his shoulder, she trailed a finger along his jaw, stopping square at the cleft of his chin. "I think this song is great, too, but I can do without all the people."
His mouth curved into a smile. "My thoughts exactly."
"This is a hotel, you know."
"I noticed that." He lowered the hand on her back even farther. "Was that a coincidence?"
"Not by a long shot."
"So you lured me here to get me into bed?"
"Yep."
His casual smile widened. "Bonnie Bristol, I think I like you."

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 5

Drake stepped out of the shower and toweled off. After retrieving his phone and overnight bag from the Lamborghini and picking up a rental car, Bonnie had set him up in a room at Bristol House, the bed-and-breakfast she and her mother ran.
Though the room was decorated in flowers and lace, he felt surprisingly comfortable there, just as at ease there as he would have been at his home in New York or his family's Austin ranch.
Since his four-day road trip would now be a three-hour flight, Drake thought he might hang out in Dahlia for a day or two as consolation. The garage where Bonnie had had his car towed was actually a top-notch facility that catered to the speedway. It alone would make an interesting article for the magazine, as would the speedway itself and the small Tennessee town that lived off it.
But more interesting than all of that was Bonnie Bristol and the unmistakable sexual chemistry that sizzled between them.
He'd taken this trip to relax and unwind, and he couldn't think of a better way to do that than in the willing arms of a beautiful woman.
All afternoon, he'd had a hard time keeping his eyes off her as she masterfully took over his sorry situation and shuttled him about town. If he had three women like her at the magazine, he could fire the rest of the staff. Though, in retrospect, that wouldn't help him get any work done. Half the reason she'd needed to take over was because his mind was too distracted by the thought of her naked. If the plans had been left to him, he would have rolled her truck off the road and spent the rest of the afternoon getting hot and heated in the back.
Hence, the cold shower he'd needed once they got to Bristol House.
It had marginally taken the edge off, but as he slipped into a fresh set of clothes and made his way downstairs, he wondered how long even that would last.
As the only guest at the moment, the house was quiet but for voices in the kitchen. He followed them down the hall, stopping short of the doorway when he realized the conversation was actually an argument.
"We're making money here. Why wouldn't he want to invest?"
It was Bonnie's mother, Sarah, who he'd been introduced to earlier.
"We don't make enough," he heard Bonnie say. "Our profits aren't even covering the mortgage. He didn't consider it a sound investment."
"But that was the point! If it weren't for the heavy debt we would be making a profit. Why did he think we needed him in the first place?"
Sarah sounded as if she was in tears, and Drake took a step back, feeling as though he shouldn't interrupt. Unfortunately, the front door stood at the other end of the hall, and there was no way to get there without crossing the kitchen.
"I don't know, Mom. It was a long shot to begin with and it didn't work. We'll figure something else out."
"No, we won't. This is over. I'm calling Aunt Stella and taking her up on her offer. The good news is you can finally get out of here like you've always wanted."
Now the woman was sobbing and Drake took another quiet step away, realizing his only option was to go back up to his room and wait it out. But before he could, he heard stomping feet and the loud slam of a door.
"Mom, it's not—" he heard, and then the room was quiet.
Slowly, he stepped to the doorway and glanced in to see Bonnie alone in front of the sink. He cleared his throat, and when she turned, he saw that she was crying.
She quickly wiped her eyes. "How is the room?"
"It's perfect." He took two more steps in. "Can I help you?"
She smiled nervously and shook her head. "No, thanks. Just family troubles."
"I've got a strong shoulder, and I'm pretty sure I owe you something for all you’ve done for me today."
The suggestion seemed to spark an idea, because the sorrow in those green-blue eyes cleared and she stood up straight. "You know what I really want?"
He shook his head.
"I'd love a night on the town." She wiped a stray tear and visibly perked. "You're on vacation, right? Let's go get a drink and do some dancing, whad'ya say?"
He grinned. "Sounds like something I’d be all over."

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 4

"You own High Velocity magazine."
Relief came over Bonnie when she finally placed the name and face with where she'd seen Drake before. It had been bugging her ever since he'd introduced himself, and now that she'd made the connection, she felt rather silly for not getting it right off.
Every female who hung around racing had heard of Drake Whitley. Heck, the guy had even made People magazine's Sexiest Man Alive issue in the Sexiest Entrepreneurs category.
And he's been looking at you like you could be his next meal.
She bit her cheek to keep from grinning. Her body-hugging Evan Picone suit hadn't impressed Mr. Mayfield back in Nashville, but it had definitely caught the eye of one heart-stoppingly gorgeous millionaire.
Maybe this day wouldn't turn out so bad after all.
"You're familiar with the magazine?" Drake asked.
"I'm Jimmy Bristol's daughter and I grew up in Dahlia, remember?"
His laugh was low and genuine. She liked that. It fit his easy smile.
"Were you heading to Dahlia for a story?" she asked.
"Maybe."
As she drove the old Chevy toward town, he shared his plans—namely that he had none—and the events that had led him to where she'd found him standing in the field.
"I suppose now I'll be spending the night in town while I figure out what to do with the car and make arrangements to get home," he said. Absently, he patted his pockets. "Darn, I didn't think to look for my cell phone. It's probably on the floor of the car."
She pulled out hers and offered, "You're welcome to use mine."
"That's okay. I can get it after your potato friend tows the car in."
He winked and smiled, making her laugh. Lord, when was the last time she had really laughed? It hadn't been since Jimmy died and she and her mother had discovered how he'd been affording their wealthy lifestyle.
In any event, laughing felt good, if only for the moment—just as it felt good to lust over this tall, handsome cowboy.
Before she'd come upon Drake, she'd been daydreaming about a steamy encounter with a hot, worthy stud. But Drake Whitley exceeded even her fantasy. When her imaginary hands had lingered over her pretend lover, he hadn't been nearly as mouth-watering as the orgasm-inspiring dish sitting next to her, and she mentally chastised her own imagination for not setting the bar higher. Real men weren't supposed to one-up a horny woman's fantasy, but this dreamy stranger with his sexy Texas drawl had somehow managed it.
And, oh, wouldn't she love to trade in fantasy for reality when it came to this one?
Still holding the phone, she asked, "Are you sure? Don't you have a wife or girlfriend who will be worried about you?"
Okay, so that was as subtle as a freight train, but Bonnie didn't care. The way her life had turned out, she was ten sheets beyond playing coy these days.
"I don't have one of those," he said, the look in his eye suggesting he was glad she'd broached the subject. He'd cocked his mouth into a grin that brought out two charming dimples she'd love to run her tongue over.
"How about you?" he asked.
"I don't have a wife or girlfriend either."
The low chuckle bellowed into a hearty laugh.
"How about something of the manly type?" he corrected.
"No, I'm plumb out of those."
As she followed the winding road into town they quieted, filling the cab with a sizzling silence that crackled with electricity between them. Though he hadn't moved, he seemed closer now, those firm thighs only inches from her, emitting heat that pooled between her legs and began a slow crawl up her chest. Casually, he crossed an ankle over his knee and stretched an arm over the backrest, sending an earthy scent wafting to her nose. Now his fingers were close enough to caress her shoulder, and she had to fight to keep from leaning in and brushing a cheek over them.
Or just throwing the car in Park and taking him there on the side of the road.
Damn, she'd been horny before she'd picked him up. Now the truck was thick in pheromones and her body was heading toward overdrive.
"Interesting," he said, his tone suggesting his thoughts might be right in line with hers. He glanced at his watch. "I suppose I should find a room for the night. I take it there's a hotel in town?"
She gripped the wheel and fought to keep her voice casual. "Oh, I can do even better than that."

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 3

Drake stood in the grassy field, dazed and surprised that he wasn't dead, much less hurt. Then he heard the sweet Southern voice and glanced up to see a sultry beauty casually strolling down the steep embankment.
Maybe he had died and this was heaven. If so, he'd have a hard time mourning his own demise. A man could hardly complain about spending eternity with something that looked like that.
Almost effortlessly, the woman scaled down the hill despite her tight-fitting skirt and leg-slimming heels. Her sleek auburn hair was pulled back, but a few wayward strands had broken loose, catching the sunlight like silky copper ribbons. Though her skin was fair as butter cream, her deep green eyes said sexy siren—just the way he liked his women. And as he took in her tall curvy frame, he noted a few more things he liked about her, too.
Yes ma'am, if this was heaven, he could definitely handle the welcoming committee.
"Anyone hurt?" she asked as she stepped to the bottom of the grade and moved toward him.
He blinked, forgetting why she would ask such a question. Then his mind popped back to his accident and the new toy he'd just squeezed himself out of.
"Uh, no." He brushed any remnant specks of shattered glass from his jeans.
She appraised the car and where it had landed. "Six inches to the right and you wouldn't be standing there. Those Lamborghinis are built for speed, not safety." She placed her slim hands on her hips and surveyed the situation. "Anyone else in the car?"
He shook his head, suddenly rendered speechless by this stunning woman and her no-nonsense style. Though she was dressed to the nines, she didn't seem to give a whit that her heels were now caked with mud. Nor did she look the least bit surprised by him, his situation or the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar sports car wedged between the trees.
And then there was the beauty aspect he was still trying to get a grip on. He'd thought those smoky eyes were green, but on closer inspection they were dotted with flecks of blue, the color changing in the light like opals. She had a delectable mole high on her cheekbone that gave her almond-shaped eyes an exotic look, though her drawl hinted that she'd grown up nearby.
He found her so striking and intriguing that he felt he could study her for hours, but before he could gawk, she jutted out a hand and said, "Bonnie Bristol."
He blinked and offered his own. "Drake Whitley. Uh, thanks for stopping."
Oh, that was smooth.
She regarded him curiously but shook it off as she reclaimed her hand. "Follow me. I'll give you a ride into Dahlia. On the way, we'll call Tater to send a tow truck for the car."
He raised a brow. "Tater?"
She smiled, and damn if it didn't make her even prettier. "His real name's Winston. Call him Tater if you want to keep that handsome nose of yours."
Her compliment slipped under his skin and he instinctively responded with a dose of Texas charm. "Yes, ma'am." He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat he hadn't worn in years.
She chuckled and headed up the hill. "So exactly how fast were you trying to take those turns? I'm guessing eighty, eighty-five based on the skid marks. That's a little much even for a Lamborghini."
The last speed he'd seen was eighty-three, he thought, noting her knowledge of cars. Then it hit him. "Bonnie Bristol," he said. "Are you related to Jimmy?"
Her smile evaporated. "He was my father."
Drake stretched his memory to the once-famous drag racer who'd had a reputation for driving hard and living even harder. The man had died a few years back, though he'd lived longer than most had expected. Jimmy Bristol had been all spit and fire, afraid of no man or machine, and he'd broken a few speed records thanks to it.
Broken a few bones, too, if Drake remembered right.
But by the looks of things, Bonnie wasn't keen on reminiscing about her father. Pursing those sensual lips, she turned and headed back up the hill, walking up as coolly and casually as she'd walked down it.
And as Drake followed her shapely figure up to the road, he wondered how much more interesting this day might get.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 2

A bottle of Jack Daniels and a night of sweaty sex with a hot, studly man. Bonnie Bristol had concluded those were the only two things that could shake away her gloom.
She had neither of those things handy.
It was probably a good thing. The booze would only leave her sick and more depressed tomorrow morning. And the man? Well, in a small town like Dahlia, there weren't many of those to choose from.
Reason number 437 why she hadn't planned on still being here at the ripe old age of twenty-five.
College was supposed to have taken Bonnie out of Dahlia. With a degree in journalism under her belt, she was supposed to have set off to see the country. Maybe even the world. Instead, all she'd seen was this tired stretch of highway between Nashville and home, 30 miles of scenery so familiar she could paint every linear foot of it with photographic precision.
Thrusting her dad's beat-up Chevy truck into gear, she kicked up what speed she could to pass a dairy tanker heading east on I-40. The transmission in her Firebird had died last winter, and without the funds to repair it, she was now relegated to the last working vehicle she and her mother owned—her dad's big red pickup, a sleepy old relic barely capable of hitting 60 on a downhill grade. Not that Bonnie was complaining. She wasn't in a hurry to get home to share the news that her last-ditch effort to save the family home had failed.
Mr. Mayfield, the investor who'd expressed a faint interest in becoming a partner in the Bristol House Bed and Breakfast, hadn't liked Bonnie's financial prospectus, and with her final shot now obliterated, she had nothing but despair to spread when she got back to the B and B.
Despair that would go down so much easier with a stinging shot of Jack.
Or a man. God, when was the last time she'd had an orgasm at the hands of someone besides herself?
She let her mind wander as she turned off I-40 and headed south toward town. Strong, warm hands cupping bare and ready breasts, wet lips on her thighs, firm flesh against her hands. She'd give anything for that welcome ache between her legs, the scent of sex on her pillows and tangled sheets that didn't come from restless sleep.
Her mind had trailed so far off course that she didn't even see the erratic skid marks on the road until she was right on them, a deep and arcing curve to the left then a sharp switch to the right. Letting up on the gas, she instinctively slowed and followed the tracks with her eyes until they led her off an embankment, four sharp trenches freshly dug in the moist grass.
She hit the brakes and pulled over, leaving the truck behind to survey the field on foot. And when she stepped to the short ridge and looked down, her eyebrow curved with intrigue. Down the embankment, the tracks led to a car that, through some miracle, had come to a stop wedged between two gnarly oaks.
And behind it stood a tall and studly man, much like the one in her daydream.
He looked more pissed than hurt, and as she called out and headed down the hill, she caught sight of two sizzling blue eyes apparently glad to see her.
By the looks of things, she just might have found her hot, sexy man. And the shot of Jack? Bonnie thought her handsome stranger could use one, too.

New Fic-Fast and Furious-Chapter 1

According to Drake Whitley, only three things in life were best savored slowly: the succulent taste of a prime Kentucky rib eye, the smooth heat of a fine glass of Scotch and the tender flesh of a beautiful woman. Everything else, he thought as he hit the gas on his new Lamborghini Murciélago, was far more enjoyable at a high rate of speed.
He gripped the soft leather steering wheel, his pulse climbing with the speedometer as he threw the car into sixth and tore the road out from under him. To a casual driver heading east on I-40, his smoke-black Italian sports car might be nothing but a mirage, a shadow forming in the west then whipping out of sight before the other driver even realized Drake had been there. He loved stretches of roads like this one from Memphis to Nashville, where traffic was sparse and the hills and bends offered a driver a worthy challenge. After all, anyone could hit 140 along the Utah salt flats. Only people like Drake—who had nerves for speed and the money to buy it—could do it through the Tennessee valley.
A quick grin clipped his lips as he leaned into a turn, his new toy proving to be everything the dealer had promised. At more than a quarter million dollars, it should be. This wasn’t the first Lamborghini Drake had owned, but it was the newest—so finely equipped that he’d declined the offer to have it shipped to his home in New York, opting instead to drive it from Memphis himself. It seemed criminal to load a machine built for speed onto a slow-moving truck. And besides, as the owner and executive editor of High Velocity—a magazine devoted to all things fast—a little firsthand market research never hurt.
At least, that was the official line he had given back at the office. The real truth was that his spirit needed a road trip.
Drake couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it had come on, but somewhere in the last six months, his mental engine had begun to sputter. A sense of unease had come over him, a feeling that things were off, that there was something more out there, but he didn’t know what it was or where to find it.
He’d had this feeling once before and he’d answered it by following his gut, taking his share of the money from his family’s ranch in Austin, Texas, to New York where he’d started up High Velocity. It had been a move of instinct and need, one he hadn’t understood but followed nonetheless. And it ended up making him millions, not to mention immensely happy.
Since then, Drake never dismissed his gut or the senses that drove him, and this time they’d told him to pick up the Lamborghini and spend some time on the road. So he settled back in his car and kicked into a comfortable groove, opening his mind to accept whatever the road brought him.
He’d just passed Nashville when his eye caught a sign for the Dahlia Speedway. The name jogged his memory of an old, run-down drag strip that had just gone through major renovations. It might make a good story for the magazine. At the very least the town would be a fitting place to stop off for a bite to eat.
He blinked and checked his speed, deciding too late to bring it down and look for the next sign. Because when it flashed before him at the threshold to the exit, he hit the turnoff too fast and went sailing over the hill.
He took air and came down hard, metal scraping against asphalt as the car veered one way and the road veered another. Drake shot out an expletive and cranked the wheel, fighting to stay on a road that wound too tightly. He hit the brakes but the car kept careening, tires screeching and smoke billowing as he lost the battle for control. Each time he straightened from one curve, the road twisted into another, and he worked feverishly, adrenaline coursing through his blood as he pumped the brakes and held on tight.
But it was all too little too late. Because before he could blink, the road was gone.

All I want is you....;-)

I don't want the stars
I don't want the moon
I don't want the galaxy
All I want is you

I don't want the silver
I don't want the gold
I don't want the diamonds
I just want you to hold

I don't want the fortune
I don't want the fame
I don't want the glamour
I just want to share your name

I don't want the diamond rings
Or the fancy cars
All I want is you
And all the things that you do

I don't want the glory
For anything I'll ever do
I don't want the thanks and praises
All I want is to love you

I don't want anything that’s old
Or anything that's new
I don't want anything of this world
All I want is you forever to hold

I don't want the roses
Or the sea of blue
I don't want the sky above
All I want is so your love so true

I don't want the riches of the world
Or any promises you can make
If you really love me
My heart is for you to take

I love you

You-You-You

When my days are dark
you make them light
when my heart is scared
you hold it tight.

When I wanna give up
and desert the plan
you kiss my lips
and reach for my hand.

When I feel your touch
your lips on mine
I know we can conquor anything
it's just a matter of time.

When ever I have doubts
you make me see
baby you mean
the world to me.

My Dream Has Come True

I didn't think I could ever love again.
I thought my love had come to an end.
But then you came along and made my skies blue,
You turned my world around;
I'm in love with you.

You tell me that I'm beautiful,
Now that I have you my world is full.
You are the one who put my life back together.
From now on I'll love you forever.

I thought I could never mend my broken heart
You complete the puzzle to my heart.
And now I know we're never going to be apart
I'll love you forever; till death do us part.

Now you fill my heart; you make my heart complete.
You took the pain away; you swept me off my feet.
My heart is back together; it will never break.
The love we have... nobody can take.

The love we have will always show,
My heart is with you wherever you go,
My love for you will never be through,
This is what I wished and my dream has come true.

I love you!

I Knew

When our eyes first met
How did I know?
How did I know all my love, to you,
I would show

How did I know?
You would be the one to make my life complete
To fill my eyes with love
No longer with deceit

How did I know?
You would show me
love in so many ways
Leaving me speechless

In ecstasy, a continuous daze
I have you to love
How can it be?
I have a part of you inside of me

How did I know?
I belonged in only your arms
With your strong hold,
you keep me from all harm

How did I know?
That sexy sparkle in your eyes
Would be the cause of my daze,
my desirable sighs

How did I know?
I would need you to live
To you, all my love, is what I give

How did I know?
We were destined to be
It's the passion in your eyes
The premonition I feel inside of me

How did I know?
All my thoughts would be of you
How did I know....?
My love, I knew

I LOVE YOU!!!

New Story-Fireworks-Chapter 20

There was no place Bethany wanted to be except in Stan’s arms. This dire situation left no room for bashfulness or hesitancy. If this was to be her last moment on earth, she wanted him to know exactly how much he meant to her.
Stepping into his waiting embrace, she slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He pulled her closer. “So am I. It was tearing me up worrying about you.”
She noticed that he was scanning the bank’s lobby instead of giving her his full attention. “What’s wrong?”
“This area is too exposed. Too much glass. If these front windows go they’ll tear into us like shrapnel.” With one arm around her shoulders, he hurriedly guided her toward the rear of the building.
“Where are we going?”
“Into the vault,” Stan said. He nodded to the manager. “Everybody come with us. If your vault can keep thieves out, it can keep out a tornado, too. Just fix it so we don’t accidentally get locked in.”
“What if the whole building collapses?” Bethany asked him. She knew it was foolish to borrow trouble but her mind kept thinking of the worst.
“The vault will stand against even that,” Stan assured her. He pushed her into the enormous safe ahead of the others, then followed last and swung the heavy door nearly closed with the manager’s help.
Bethany reached out to him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Since this may be my last chance to tell you,” she began, “I want you to know I love you. I have for years.”
To her delight and relief, he not only didn’t reject her, he smiled and replied, “I love you, too, Bethany. Not your sister or anyone else. You. I’m just sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” she said soothingly. “We only got reacquainted a couple of weeks ago.”
“No.” Stan was shaking his head as he cupped her cheeks, raised her face and gazed lovingly into her eyes. “It was a lot longer than that. I think I loved you all along. If Amy hadn’t been in the picture I’d have come to my senses sooner. It was your character, your sweetness, that had always appealed to me. I just got my feelings confused when you acted so reserved and she was so forward.”
“She threw herself at you, you mean.” Bethany couldn’t help grinning in spite of the terrible crashing noises outside and the whistling of the wind through the narrow crack the manager had left between the safe’s door and frame.
“I didn’t have to believe her,” Stan countered. “I should have realized long ago that I was confusing you two.” He paused to place a brief kiss on her trembling lips. “You looked so alike that I suppose I was combining your personalities, at least subconsciously. Now that Amy’s out of the picture I can see that her contribution to my dreams of the perfect wife was the only part that didn’t quite fit.”
Bethany blushed. “Wife? Did you just say what I think you did?”
Laughing and pulling her closer, Stan confirmed her conclusion. “Yes. Wife. Will you marry me, Bethany?”
“Yes,” she replied, clinging to him. “And you’d better see to it that we get out of this mess we’re in because I intend to become your bride just as soon as possible. It seems like I’ve loved you forever.”
“We’ll survive,” Stan vowed. “You’re not getting rid of me for at least the next fifty years.”
Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him soundly before she said, “That’ll make a good start.”
THE END

New Story-Fireworks-Chapter 19

Bethany stood at the wide front window of the bank and watched the rain falling. Thunder rattled the whole building and lightning was flashing so often it seemed almost continuous. The wind velocity was building. Sheets of falling water were sometimes so dense she could barely see the park across the street.
The distant sky was as dark as evening, yet the sun would not set for four more hours. Worse, there was a band of light near the horizon, signaling the presence of a wall cloud above. Bethany knew that was a bad sign. Clouds like that often spawned tornados.
Most of her coworkers, except for the bank manager and one other teller, had already taken the chance that they’d beat the worst of the thunderstorm and had headed for their homes. Bethany wished she’d done the same.
Perhaps there was still time to make a run for it, she reasoned, remembering all the previous storms she’d experienced. Just because there was rain falling and perhaps hail to follow, twisters weren’t inevitable. Nothing was that predictable, especially not during the spring and summer.
The promise she’d made to Stan nagged at her. “All right,” she muttered, disgusted with herself for heeding his dire warning when she could have been snug and safe at home all this time. “I’m leaving, whether he likes it or not.”
She raised her voice to get the bank manager’s attention. “I’m going to make a private call, then you can unlock the door and let me out. Okay?”
“Is it safe?” the portly man asked, frowning and mopping his brow as he peered past her. “It looks pretty nasty out there.”
“It’s pouring rain but that’s all. And that seems to be letting up.” She used her own cell phone to call the number Stan had given her. As soon as he answered she spoke without giving him a chance to argue. “This is Bethany. I’m going home. It’s not raining as heavily as it was and I’m worn out from the waiting.”
“Not yet. Don’t go yet.”
“I promised I’d call and that’s what I’m doing. Don’t worry. I’ll give you another call when I’m safely inside my apartment.”
Suddenly, the line went dead. She stared at the little phone. Was it an accidentally broken connection or had Stan hung up? If he was miffed, that was just too bad. If she wanted to go home, she was going to do so. Period. End of discussion.
Bethany closed her cell and slipped it into her purse as she grabbed a light nylon jacket, draped it over her head and headed for the door. “Okay. I’m ready.”
The manager seemed unduly nervous as he fiddled with his ring of keys. “I don’t know. I think we should go with our first instinct and stay off the streets.” He pointed with a shaky hand. “Look.”
Her eyes widened. Although the rain had slacked off for the moment, the wind continued to blow. Across the street in the park, people were scattering. Many umbrellas had been blown inside out by the gale and others looked as though they were about to collapse or be torn from their owners’ grasps.
A police car with its red-and-blue lights flashing cruised to a stop directly in front of the bank. Bethany couldn’t tell who was behind the wheel but she immediately recognized the man who jumped out of the passenger side and ran toward her.
“Hurry! Unlock the door,” she shouted at the manager. “Let him in before he gets blown away.”
The heavy glass door was nearly snatched out of their hands when it finally swung back. Stan pulled it closed with the other man’s help, then held it while he relocked it.
“You can’t go out,” Stan yelled at Bethany. “It’s too dangerous.”
“It seemed fine a few minutes ago when I phoned you. What’s going on?”
“We’re not sure. The hail is getting bigger and stuff all over town is being smashed, including car windows. I know you’re hardheaded but no one’s head is hard enough to withstand that kind of punishment.”
“Okay, okay. But what are you doing here? I thought you had to stay at the fire station.”
“I got permission to ride out with the police chief. He’s going to sound his siren as soon as we’re sure there’s a tornado on the ground.”
“Do you think that will happen?” she asked breathlessly. Before Stan could answer, they heard the high-pitched wailing of sirens begin.

New Story-Fireworks-Chapter 18

Stan was pacing the floor, watching the sky and listening to radio reports. The eye of the storm had passed Council Grove and was bearing down on High Plains at forty miles an hour. The wind was already blowing so hard it was starting to strip tender, green leaves from the cottonwood trees and whip the smaller branches wildly. Trash was blowing around as refuse cans were knocked over. This didn’t look good.
He checked his watch. The bank would soon close. Perhaps Bethany would stop by the fire station on her way home. Chances were she had walked to work, meaning she wouldn’t have the protection of a car if hail started to fall while she was en route.
Making a snap decision, he leafed through the phone book for the bank number, then quickly dialed.
“Let me speak to Bethany Brown,” he said as soon as the operator answered.
“I’m sorry. Our teller stations are closed for the day,” the woman said pleasantly. “Would you like to leave a message?”
“No. I want to talk to Bethany and I want to do it now,” he said forcefully. “This isn’t bank business. This is the fire department calling.”
“Oh, dear. Is there a problem at her apartment building?”
“No. Just put her on the line, will you? She is still in the building, isn’t she?”
“Yes, sir. One moment, please.”
He heard the breathlessness in Bethany’s voice as she picked up an extension. “Hello?”
“It’s me. Stan,” he said. “I think you should stay right where you are till the storm passes. It’s getting awfully close and you don’t want to get caught outside if it starts to hail the way I think it’s going to.”
“What have you heard?”
“Council Grove got hammered with nickel- and quarter-size hail even though the main part of the storm missed them. We could have it much worse.”
“Are you sure?”
“Nobody can be positive. I’d just feel better if you promised to stay there a little longer. You don’t have your car, do you?”
“No. It was beautiful this morning. I always walk on pretty days.”
“Must be the butterfly in you that craves the sunshine,” Stan said, hoping to distract her by mentioning their earlier conversation.
“Must be.” She paused, then continued, “How long do you think we should stay inside? I want to be able to tell the others and let them make educated decisions about whether or not to head for home.”
“We should be through the worst of it in less than an hour,” Stan said soberly. “I’m not trying to be an alarmist. I just know from experience how bad some of these storms can be. I was caught in a dandy when I was a kid. Remember?”
“Vaguely. I was too little to take anything seriously back then. Maybe that’s why you’re so uptight about the weather now.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just more prudent than some folks.” He glanced through the window at the street. “Looks like traffic is about the same as always. People are acting way too nonchalant. I hope they’re not sorry.”
“So do I,” Bethany replied. “Okay. I’ll stay here for another hour or so, but after that, I’m going home. The probability of High Plains being hit by hail or a tornado should have been resolved by then.”
“Call me before you go outside? Promise?” He gave her his private cell number and was relieved when she took the time to jot it down and repeat it back to him. “And, Bethany?”
“Yes?”
Stan hesitated. “Never mind. We’ll talk later. Good bye.”
He’d been going to express his tender feelings, maybe even tell her that he loved her, but something had stopped him. It was one thing to think about it and quite another to actually say the words. Besides, that kind of confession should be made face-to-face. That way, if she didn’t take it well, he’d recognize the truth and know whether or not she returned his love.
The possibility that she might not gave him actual, physical pain.

New Story-Fireworks-Chapter 17

On her way back to the bank after lunch, Bethany ran into Tommy Jacobs and Charlie. The boy was on his bike as usual, with Charlie running along beside him.
“Hi,” Bethany called, waving. “How did your foster parents like the way we washed your dog?”
Tommy pouted as he skidded to a stop at her feet. “Dumb old grown-ups. They didn’t believe me, even after I showed them how clean the white fur on his tummy was.”
“I’m so sorry. Maybe I should have written you a note to prove we really washed him.” She eyed the gamboling dog with its lolling tongue and twinkling dark eyes. He didn’t look as if he’d rolled in the mud in the past week but there was really no way to tell since the majority of his hair was black.
“It’s okay.” The wiry child shrugged and prepared to ride off.
“Be careful out there,” Bethany warned, eyeing the darkening sky to the west. It was impossible to see all the way to the horizon due to the two- and three-story buildings that blocked her view, but she could see enough to tell that Stan had been right about the impending storm. If there was one thing that was predictable on the plains, it was changeable weather.
“I know how to ride good,” Tommy insisted.
“I don’t mean about your bike,” she said. “I mean look out for lightning and rain. There’s supposed to be a storm coming.”
“I ain’t afraid. I like to play in the rain.” He grinned. “So does Charlie. We love mud.”
“I can see that by looking at your sneakers.” Bethany returned his smile. “Just keep an eye on the sky, okay? You wouldn’t want your dog to get hurt, would you?”
The boy shook his head so hard his hair ruffled. “Nope. I take good care of Charlie and he takes good care of me, too.”
“I’m sure he does.“ She paused to check her watch. “Uh-oh. I’m late for work again. Gotta go. Bye.”
“Bye,” Tommy called after her.
As she passed through the front door of the bank she looked back and saw him riding off, standing on the pedals, leaning the bike back and forth and making noises to pretend it was really a motorcycle.
Kids. They could always find fun in the smallest pleasures.
Fun? Pleasure? Oh, yes. She instantly relived Stan’s surprising kiss. Her lips still tingled and her breathing grew a bit unsteady. That long-awaited kiss had not been the way she had always imagined it would be. It had been a thousand times better.
Only one element of their relationship continued to bother her. Everything seemed to be happening too fast. Yes, they had already been well acquainted when they had renewed their friendship, yet there was still the specter of Amy hanging over their newfound affection.
How could Bethany be certain that Stan was not thinking of her sister when he kissed her? How would she ever know? He had remarked often about the family resemblance, so perhaps, even if he truly believed he was interested in her, he still yearned for Amy.
Disappointed at the way her mind had twisted an awesome occurrence, Bethany sighed. Of all the men she could have fallen for, why did her heart have to belong to Stan Ellison?
Because, truth to tell, it always had.

New Story-Fireworks-Chapter 16

The afternoon seemed to race by at the fire station. Stan and his fellow firefighters had checked and rechecked their gear and emergency supplies. There was no way to tell what or how much would be needed beyond normal but they tried to cover all contingencies.
He’d been listening to the NOAA weather announcements and still knew no more than he had when he’d warned Bethany. The conditions were right for a thunderstorm with strong winds and hail. Beyond that, it was anybody’s guess.
High Plains had suffered more than one tornado in the past, including the devastating one that had practically leveled the town in 1860. After that, its founders had rebuilt, mainly in brick and stone. Many of those sturdy edifices still stood, including the bank and trust where Bethany worked.
The same rookie who had frozen while fighting his first fire on July 4th stuck his head in the door. “Hey, Stan. What’s the word?”
“It doesn’t look good. You going to be okay?”
“Me? Sure. I’ve got the system down pat now. You put the wet stuff on the red stuff and the fire goes out.”
Stan had to chuckle. “Right. Simple, but correct.”
“How’s the storm looking?”
“Nasty.” He swiveled his desk chair and stood. “As long as it isn’t as strong as the one that hit here in the mid-1800s we should be fine.”
“Yeah, I heard about that one. Guess it kind of snuck up on them, huh? We’re smarter these days. We’ve got weather satellites to keep us posted.”
“Yes and no. Just because we know trouble is coming doesn’t mean we can avoid it completely. According to historians, that twister came from the southwest, the same direction as this storm. That doesn’t mean it’s going to be as bad as it was in the old days, of course, but I’ve weathered a few pretty nasty ones myself.”
“Well, we can always take cover like everybody else.”
Stan shook his head, amazed at the young man’s naive attitude. “We may duck when the worst comes through but believe me, kid, we won’t be hiding our heads while there are folks who may need our help.”
“I knew that. I just thought…”
“No. You weren’t thinking. This job is not nearly as glamorous as it looks in the movies or on TV. It’s hard, dangerous, grueling work. We risk our lives every time we roll to a scene. And most people expect it, so we get very little praise. Don’t plan on being on the front page of the newspaper or getting decorated for heroism by the mayor or governor.”
Shrugging and turning to go, the rookie gave Stan a look that said he didn’t believe a word of what had just been said.
Well, so be it. All Stan cared about, then and in the future, was doing his job to the best of his ability and serving his community.
That, and making sure Bethany stayed safe through it all, he added, chagrined. Since he was stuck there, on duty, there wasn’t a thing he could do to help her, to look out for her personally.
He closed his eyes and shot a quick prayer heavenward. “She’s special, Father. Watch over her and keep her safe. Please? I—I really care for her.”
The moment the words were out of his mouth he realized that they were inadequate. He more than cared for Bethany. Heaven help him, he’d fallen in love with her.
Not because of Amy? he asked himself. Are you really sure?
It didn’t take him more than a heartbeat to answer, “Yes.”

New Story-Fireworks-Chapter 15

Bethany was so reluctant to leave Stan, she was late for work…three days out of the past five, if anyone was counting and seeing a pattern. She had begun arriving at the pie shop earlier and earlier in the hopes of encountering him. To her delight, he had joined her nearly every morning.
Lunch had often provided similar opportunities, once they had discussed their plans. Because Stan carried a pager and radio that kept him in touch with the fire station, he was able to get away even on the days when he was on duty.
She fidgeted, anticipating his arrival. When he finally did walk through the door she could tell from his expression that something was bothering him.
Smiling, she gestured to a chair at her table. “Have a seat. I had to go ahead and order or I wouldn’t have had time to eat.”
“That’s fine. I can’t stay today, anyway.”
“Why not? What’s wrong?”
As he pulled the other chair closer and sat down, he reached for her hand. The gesture was so unexpected, so wonderful, Bethany hardly heard what he was saying. She blinked to clear her head. “The weather?” She glanced out the window at the bright sunshine. “It looks fine.”
“I know. And right now it is,” Stan told her, still grasping her fingers and holding them gently. “But the reports don’t look good. We could be in the middle of a bad storm in a few hours. The chief wants us on standby.”
“You can’t stay a little longer? We could share my sandwich. I got a Reuben, just like you like.”
“It’s tempting, and I don’t mean the sandwich,” he said, making her heart race even faster. “But I have to get back to the station.”
“Be careful,” she said tenderly, gazing into his eyes and willing him to understand how much he meant to her.
“I will. And you do the same. If the storm is as strong as predicted, the whole town might be in trouble. You should head home early if it starts to look serious.”
“As long as we have electricity, you know the bank will have to stay open. I can just hear my boss yelling if any of us asked to leave before closing time.”
“All right.” He got to his feet, letting her hand slip through his fingers. “Just keep your eyes open and listen to a weather alert radio if you have one.”
“I do at home.” She shrugged and stood so she could remain closer to him. “The way the high plains affect the paths of storms there’s no telling what will actually happen. If I get home before it starts to rain too hard, I’ll be sure to keep my radio on and watch the sky.”
“Is there a storm cellar at your apartment?”
“No, but there are no windows in the laundry room in the basement. If I think I need more shelter I’ll go down there.”
“Okay. Just…”
“What?” Her heart was already pounding when he grasped her shoulders, then leaned closer and placed a kiss on her cheek. After that, she figured it was a good thing he was supporting her. If he had not been, her knees might have buckled. And there I’d be, in a heap at his feet. Some butterfly, she reflected, almost smiling at the vivid image in her mind.
The expression on Stan’s face grew so poignant it left Bethany breathless. In seconds, she understood the change in his character because he bent closer and kissed her again. This time, it was not a simple peck on the cheek.
This time it was a real-life, knock-your-socks-off, write-home-to-Mother lulu. If this kiss had not left her speechless, she might have told him so.