Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Love Amid the Azaleas - Issue # 3
Hello all! My name is V.L. Locey. I am a self-published and traditionally published author that lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with my husband of over twenty-one years, my seventeen year old daughter, a herd of dairy goats, chickens, geese, ducks, turkeys, two dogs, two cats, and a partridge in a pear tree. For more info about me and contact links, check out the author bio tab up above.
Today we`re back to my M/M mini-series about new love blooming in a nursery. Just for a challenge for myself, I`m going to try to keep each issue under a thousand words, which should be daunting for Madame Wordy here.
Love Amid The Azaleas
Issue # 3
Bryan and I were standing in a flower bed that hugged the west wing of the Miller manse, both of us taking a brief respite from the rather hot April sun shining down on us. I was leaning on my shovel; Bryan was skirting glances to the tall window about five feet away from us.
“She`s still watching us,” he muttered, tossing his shovel to the thick blanket of bark we had spread after planting two new dogwoods. “What is her problem?”
I shrugged while dragging the back of my dirty glove across my sweaty brow. “She suspects those in the service trade?”
“If her and her little white mutts don`t stop watching us, I`m going to give that nosy old bitch something to look at,” my newest employee spat, rolling his head in circles. His blue beater was sodden and stuck to his body. A rap on the thick glass made us both start. I mumbled something ungracious under my breath. Bryan hissed then stalked over to me. His hand slapped to the back of my sweaty neck then he tugged me forward and kissed me soundly.
My hands fell to my sides and hung there listlessly, my shovel slipping from my fingers. The man`s lips were soft and moist and decadently flavored with the orange iced tea we had shared. He tipped his head to deepen the kiss. I almost opened my mouth the flicker of his tongue over my bottom lip was that enticing. Then I remembered just who the hell I was, who he was, and where the hell we were. I shoved the man back a step, my freshly kissed mouth drawing into a firm line.
“What the hell do you think you`re doing?” I snarled, ripping my gloves off just to give my hands something to do besides throttle the man or dive into his dark hair.
“Bet she ain`t at that window now,” Bryan smirked, tossing his thumb over his shoulder. I snuck a peek. Nope. No sign of Mrs. Miller or her pack of poodles. I returned my sight to Bryan.
“You really think forcing your attentions on your new boss is the best way to handle a difficult customer?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. He raised a dark eyebrow then bent over to retrieve his shovel.
“Are you straight?” he asked as he straightened. I ripped my sight from his ass.
“That`s not really the point, is it?”
“Probably not, but if you`re het then I apologize for coming on to you just to stuff up some old rich bat. If you`re gay, then I don`t apologize for coming onto you because I`ve wanted to feel your lips underneath mine all morning, but I do apologize for kissing you just to stuff up some old rich bat.”
I stumbled and fumbled for a reply. That sardonic eyebrow lowered to be replaced by a smile so wicked I imagined I caught a whiff of brimstone.
“So are you?” Bryan threw his shovel into our wheelbarrow then grabbed both handles and lifted. I stared hard, trying to figure out exactly how I had been kissed into stupidity by a man I had known for less than four hours.
“Are you always this forward?” I inquired retrieving my shovel.
“Do you always avoid intimate questions?”
I exhaled through my nose. “My sexual orientation isn`t up for discussion in the middle of a customer`s flower bed. What is up for discussion is the fact that I am the boss and you are the employee. If you ever act unprofessionally in front of a customer again I will kick your ass to the curb despite how damned fine it is.”
With that announcement I stalked around a neatly trimmed forsythia to leave Bryan to tidy up.
“So that`s a yes then?” he called from behind me. I ignored him and set my sights on the truck.
I was suddenly parched. The squeak of the wheelbarrow tire alerted me to his arrival at the Dodge a moment later. I was leaning on the front driver`s side panel, taking a long drink from the thermos of tea I always carry. The thud of tools and the clank of the wheelbarrow in the bed bounced off the side of the red brick mansion. Bryan appeared after a minute. I held out the blue thermos. He wet his lips and gingerly accepted the peace offering.
“I`m sorry,” he mumbled after a long pull from the thermos.
“I know you are,” I said, taking the tea back then screwing the lid on.
“So are you?” he asked yet again. I met his gaze.
“Is there a reason you`re so intent on knowing?”
He gave me a lopsided smile. “If you are, I think I might have to ask you out on a date just to see how you kiss when you`re not being watched by some old biddy.”
Sweet African violets, how the hell did I lose control of this situation so damned fast? And really, should I be entertaining the notion of dating my new employee?
So . . . do you think Jon will or Jon won`t? We`ll find out next week!