When Marla’s faced with an unknown danger, Josh is forced to reveal his buried past. Promises made and surfaced truths may be the catalyst that brings them together…or pushes them further apart.
The knock on the door stirred me out of my thoughts and my mind reeled over who could be keeping me from my dinner. The doorbell then chimed. Not once, not twice, but three annoying times in a row, followed by a series of fervent knocks.
I inaudibly walked toward the door, careful to not give myself away, in case it was someone selling me a subscription to the newspaper or converting me to their religion. I peered into the peephole and scrunched my face in aversion as my mouth emitted an aggravated sigh. I swiftly opened the door as his hand stopped midair.
My hip jutted out as my irritation level climbed. “What are you doing here?”
Josh’s cool exterior, the tight forest green shirt, the peekaboo tattoos, his dark jeans were all too much to take in. Good God, this man was delicious. It was enough to make me go nuts, but instead I kept myself calm. “Did you forget? Lessons.”
“Are you serious?” He nodded as his blazing eyes trailed down to my chest. I followed, remembering I had opened my blouse. I shrugged, closing the satin around my body. “What? You haven’t seen a great pair of breasts before?”
“Not those,” he smirked. “At least not yet.”
“Want me to shut this door in your face?” I flung it and walked away, but heard as his hand caught it from closing completely. I could feel his presence as he walked in and shut the door, locking it behind him.
“Thanks for inviting me in,” he said softly, as I glanced back, buttoning my blouse up. His eyes scanned my living room, and I ignored the idea of him seeing my untidy home. My shoes were set in an accumulating pile near the corner of the entrance, my sweaters and jackets hung over one another on hooks near the door, and magazines were scatted across my coffee table.
I turned and glared at him as he set his hands in his pockets, his eyes on my pretty heaps of high heels. “What?”
The grin playing over his lips stayed small, as if he knew to be careful with me. At the same time there was a hint of mischief behind those glassy light blue eyes. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Nice shoes.”
“Fine. You can borrow a pair, but only if you promise to return them.”
A very rare smile spread over his lips. It was one that made his eyes twinkle, his teeth show, and a laugh emit from his throat. I shockingly found myself grinning back, a twirl in my stomach reminding me of what it felt like being on a rollercoaster right at the drop. Satisfaction built inside me knowing I had earned that moment of sincerity from him. It was one he hardly let others see. Wait. Why should I care that he smiled? Pull yourself together, Sullivan. “What are you doing here, Josh?”
Anissa Garcia resides in Austin, Texas and earned her Bachelor’s Degree in Speech Communications and English. She held an array of jobs including Public Relations Manager for Barnes and Noble. Wanting a change of pace, she moved to Los Angeles where she attended The American Academy of Dramatic Arts, and trained full-time in theatre. After working in Hollywood, she returned to Texas where she has written articles for Cosmopolitan and Lady Couture. When not writing stories, watching movies, or drinking a latte, she loves to daydream about romantic fictional men.
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