Love in the Cards (Whole Lotta Love #1) (9 page)

Relatively at peace, he looked up as the door opened and what might have been a woman in a previous life staggered over the threshold. She was soaked through, her light jacket no protection from the miserable storm that sent a rattling batch of sleet gusting through the door behind her. She sprinkled water from her sopping skirt, and God only knew what color her hair was, since at the moment it resembled some sort of animal that had crawled onto her head and died, leaving matted locks trailing down either side of her face.

Her skin was blue-white with cold, even her lips were colorless, and they certainly weren’t smiling as she squelched across to the counter and asked for a phone.

The elderly waitress motioned to an alcove, and Steve idly watched as the woman made her way to the nook. He looked down, hiding a smile as she fumbled through change, plugged in quarters, thumped the phone and finally threw it down with an expletive that could have melted the slush within a twenty-yard radius of the diner.

“Excuse me…” she called over to the waitress. “This phone… I can’t get a dial tone.”

The woman raised one eyebrow. “You asked me where the phone was. Didn’t ask me if it worked.”

Steve watched Miss Iceberg’s chest rise and fall as she struggled with her temper. “Okay.” She swallowed. Hard. “So…does it now, or has it ever, worked?”

“Nope. And yes, I think.”

“Good. We’re getting someplace. Stay with me here.
This
phone is now
not
working. You got one that
does
? My car’s broken down and I have to call a garage or something.”

The waitress reached behind her and picked up the receiver of an old dial phone. She held it to her ear and listened for a minute, then replaced it. She looked across the counter, as if considering her next words.

Steve wanted to laugh real bad, even though he knew he shouldn’t. If he’d ever seen a woman getting so pissed off she was about to explode, this was the one.

“Sorry. Line’s dead. Happens a lot in bad weather.”

Any minute now, she’s gonna blow.

Unfortunately for Steve, she didn’t blow. She noticed
him
.

Uh-oh.

He was the only customer in the place, so it wasn’t really surprising that her gaze fixed on him with all the determination of a vulture about to strip the flesh from the carcass of fresh roadkill. He was male, and clearly in her mind possessed the requisite hormones to assist her out of her difficulties.

She moved towards him, her sneakers still squishing on the tiled floor. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but then again, neither was she.

“Excuse me, would you have a cell phone on you? Or perhaps know anything about cars?”

“Sorry, no signal here for the cellphone and I don’t know much more about cars than the basics.” Steve took another sip of his coffee and kept his eyes lowered.

She sighed and dripped on the floor leaving a puddle, her expression speaking for her.
All the cute ones are stupid.
“Well? Are you going to ask me to sit down?”

Steve’s gaze had drifted to her wet clothes. He was a little distracted. “Uh, yeah. Would you like to sit down?”

“Actually, no. I want to get my piece of shit car running so I can get out of this armpit.” She slid into the booth and sat down with a splat.

Stretching her arms apart and setting them on the back of the bench seat, she laid her head back and groaned. Her jacket fell open revealing an almost transparent white shirt.

Steve’s jaw dropped a little, and he drooled a small stream of coffee from one side of his mouth.
No bra, good God, calm, mellow, keep it together, ignore the voice in your pants.
“It must be getting really cold outside.” Steve said what his inner voice was thinking. As usual.

“You think? Of
course
it’s cold. My feet are frozen, I reckon I’ve probably got frostbite on my ears, and
damn
—every frickin’ body part is icy…look.”

“Already am.” Steve was busted, and she definitely wasn’t flat-busted.

The air between them changed, and something electric arced across the stained table. A tension appeared that hadn’t been there moments before. Her abrupt and direct approach to Steve was a surprisingly perfect match for his lack of politeness.

He wasn’t going to let another woman take control of him. He’d learned his lesson the hard way.

He sighed as she noticed the rest room and excused herself, squishing off in that direction. She’d be back. He knew it.

Buy LOVE ON THE ROAD for your

Kindle/Kindle reader app or with your Kindle Unlimited membership

HERE
.

Of course, since one excerpt is never enough, and yes there’s a third book in the Whole Lotta Love series, Scott and Sahara—a couple of writers known for their incredible generosity as well as their amazing good looks—have agreed to share yet another excerpt. This one is from
Love Under The Lights
, and is definitely for the over eighteen crowd.

This novel unites an unlikely couple – a woman who takes the only option to keep herself afloat financially, and a man who thought he’d burned out on women, nudity and the world of adult movies.

Life is about to surprise them both…

EXCERPT

-

LOVE UNDER THE LIGHTS

S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly

Toni was surprised at how quickly she’d been given an appointment with Bud Yarborough, the director and owner of Four Coin Productions. Apparently Suze had more than a little clout with him, because Toni’s phone call mentioning Suze’s name had resulted in a visit to his office that same afternoon. Armed with a folder containing the papers she’d been instructed to bring—her medical record, birth certificate, and so on—she’d arrived promptly.

And to her surprise, it looked like any other office. Filing cabinets, a laptop, a couple of empty coffee cups and messy files and papers everywhere.

Bud Yarborough wasn’t flashy, like she’d expected, but a quite casual man in his fifties perhaps, dressed in an open necked shirt and jeans. He shook Toni’s hand firmly and introduced Henry Adams, who he said was his casting director.

“And he’s quite interested in meeting you, Ms Sinclair.” Bud waved her to an empty chair. “It’s not often Suze recommends anybody at all. You certainly impressed her.” His eyes took stock of her body. “And I can see why.”

Henry Adams nodded. “Quite lovely, Ms Sinclair. But I expect you’re used to hearing it.”

Toni blushed. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

Bud chuckled. “Smart too.” He glanced at Henry and they exchanged nods. “So far so good. Would you take your clothes off, please?”

The request was calm and casual.

Toni gulped. “Here?”

“Yes please.” Bud scrawled himself a note as Henry took a call on his cell phone.

Sheesh
. Toni didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed that they weren’t paying more attention.

This was it.
She had to do this
. She
could
do this. If not—well, the alternatives were even worse.

She stood and told herself she was in a doctor’s office. It was all clinical. All about business. That lasted about ten seconds as her willpower dropped to the floor with her white blouse and her best silk skirt.

Beneath, she’d worn her precious lace lingerie, a peach tinged froth that had cost her a week’s paycheck back in the days when she could manage to spend a week’s paycheck on herself.

Quality always paid off, though. The bra and bikini panties might be old, but they still looked fresh and stylish. To Toni’s eyes, anyway.

“And the underwear, please.” Bud flicked his fingers at her lace, glancing briefly at her before returning to his notes.

Damned heathens. No appreciation for the finer things in life.

“Hoookay then. Here goes nothing.”

Toni unclasped the bra and let it fall, then eased the elastic of her panties down over her hips, lifting her legs one at a time to step out of them.

She was embarrassed, struggling against the urge to cover herself in that pose so beloved of sculptors, and scared shitless to look at either man.

There was a thick silence for a moment or two as she stood in the office, buck naked, waiting for—what?
Something
. A cough. A sneeze. A gasp of wonder at her nude body?

Nah. Not gonna happen.

“Would you turn around slowly, Ms Sinclair?” Henry Adams snapped his cell phone shut and looked at her. “Now walk across the room and back?”

That took all of three steps. But by God they were the longest steps Toni had ever taken. As she twisted around and headed back to the desk, she couldn’t help but see the men’s eyes roaming over her.

To give them both credit, they took stock of everything—from her short black shiny hair to her calves and her toes—not lingering with undue attention on anything in between.

“Very nice indeed. You have a unique skin tone, Ms. Sinclair.” Bud smiled. “I’m guessing your heritage is…” His gaze lifted to her eyes. “Well, I admit I’m not quite sure.”

Toni chuckled. “I believe my father was from Haiti. Or possibly the Dominican Republic. To be honest, I’m not quite sure. My mother was never too forthcoming when it came to that particular discussion. He left before I was born.”

Henry smiled sympathetically. “I quite understand.” He stood and moved around Toni. “If your skin photographs as well as I think it might, you’ll be a very welcome addition to our roster, Ms Sinclair.”

“Really?” Toni blinked. “Don’t you want me to say some lines or something?”

Bud lifted an eyebrow. “My dear, this isn’t repertory theater. We’re not doing Shakespeare here.”

Henry was struggling to hold in a laugh. “Oh I dunno, Bud. We did
Midsummer Night’s Cream
, didn’t we?”

Buy LOVE UNDER THE LIGHTS for your

Kindle/Kindle reader app or with your Kindle Unlimited membership

HERE.

~~~~~

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHORS

S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly began their writing collaboration going on fifteen years ago. It was unexpected, since they live about as far away from each other as it’s possible to get in the USA without getting your feet wet. But it worked.

Since then, they’ve explored a wide and colorful variety of subjects, and written stories that entertain, amuse, and sometimes astound their readers. One thing will always be a part of their writing—that touch of humor. Sometimes unexpected, sometimes blatant, both Scott. and Sahara believe that laughter is essential, especially when it comes to sex. Because sex is, without a doubt, one of the funniest activities humans engage in on a regular basis. If one excludes salmon tossing, of course. If you’d like to find out a bit more about these two strangely charming and absurdly attractive people (one of whom is writing this paragraph) then you can check the websites below and satisfy your curiosity about their books.

Sahara suggests you subscribe to her newsletter. It’s available without charge, and free is always good. Plus she won’t pepper your inbox with incessant political opinions, recipes or pictures of their cats. (Link below). And it’s worth noting that if you enjoyed the stories you just read, you’ll absolutely want to follow these two authors on Amazon, since they are currently at work on more fun projects, and you don’t want to miss the latest news or release schedules, do you? We didn’t think so!

Website:
S.L. Carpenter

Where you can find out more about S.L. Carpenter, his books, his art and his off-the-wall observations on life, baseball and rubber chickens. (The fundamental components of happiness—as we all know so well.) He has quite a few single titles available and encourages you to check them out if you haven’t already.

You may subscribe to Scott’s Amazon Page
here
and his author page on Facebook
here
. Both good places to keep up with his slightly twisted and funny look at life!

Website:
Sahara Kelly

This is where Sahara Kelly shares none of the intimate details of her life, but will present you with a list of books she’d like you to buy so that she can go do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages and drinks with umbrellas in them. She’ll send you a postcard. Thank you.

You can get on Sahara’s newsletter list
here
and see what she’s blogging about
here
. It usually has nothing to do with her books. Refreshing, huh? Oh, and don’t forget to follow her at Amazon.com
here
.

~~~~~

ALSO BY S.L. CARPENTER AND SAHARA KELLY

Whole Lotta Love Series

Love In the Cards

Love on the Road

Love under the Lights

Happy Endings Anthology

Feels So Right Anthology