Sherwood, Mickie - BayouBabe99er (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Read online

  Sharlene couldn’t deny the current that zapped her. A happy look touched on his face as she watched. She wanted Drake to whisk her onto the dance floor just to feel his strength against her body. The longer they stared, the more intense the surge.

  The queasiness in Sharlene’s stomach drove her out for a breath of fresh air. She lost herself past the small group gathered under the sprinkle of white lights on the rear dock. The fact his presence affected her in such a way heaped on the guilt of blatantly ignoring her “why not” list. Her mind traipsed back there.

  “Going in for a drink?” He hovered at her back.

  “Thought you were long gone.” She never turned.

  “I’m not going to let you get rid of me so easily.”

  Sharlene crunched her shoulder upward, trapping his head in the spot where he nibbled her neck. His breath seared her skin making breathing almost impossible. His magnetism was so alluring. Her body molded to his when Drake’s arms solidified the bond.

  She had to project some control even if she didn’t feel any. “Heard about your new job.”

  “Yes. I’ve been reassigned.”

  “So we were told today at the meeting.” She pretended to be unfazed.

  Her body tensed. “I had to be free to pursue my options.”

  “Of course. I’m happy for you, Drake. The situation here could drag on for years.” The topic of discussion dimmed the beauty of the mystic swamps before them.

  “Aren’t you curious why the sudden change?”

  “Not really.” She told a shameless lie.

  Drake spun Sharlene and kissed her tenderly, all in one fell swoop. He parted, dispensing tiny nips with his teeth. “I’ll tell you anyway.”

  Sharlene reacted too late. Her lips tingled from the close encounter. She was statue-still, for his thumb and finger kept her in that pose. His other hand braced the small of her back. The twinkling lights reflected in his eyes. “Drake?”

  “Shh.” His lips seized hers, again. “The last thing the people need is a hint of impropriety.” Honesty brimmed in his eyes. “Don’t fight the inevitable, Sharlene. Your new job, congratulations by the way”—he digressed to show his support—“convinced me to request a transfer.”

  “You…you requested? That was completely unnecessary and you know it.”

  “What I know is…I’ve come alive in the short time I’ve known you,” he admitted. Let’s see where this takes us.”

  “It can’t take us anywhere, Drake,” Sharlene whispered glumly. “We’re too far apart in too many ways.”

  He wouldn’t be dissuaded. “Go on. Get it out of your system. Tell me how our ethnicities matter…our ages. One thing you can’t count—and that’s conflict of interest.”

  He was right about that last factor. “This conversation isn’t going to happen.” She fell short of breaking his hold.

  Drake meant business. He was ready to heal his hurt. His head dipped to reverently touch his forehead to hers. “This is a long time in coming for me, Sharlene. I’m asking you not to send me away without exploring what could be.”

  * * * *

  Moot joined Clyde at the rear window as Sharlene and Drake hashed out the terms of their blossoming romance. Clyde felt his old friend’s distraught presence. “New day, Moot.”

  “Same ol’ Cormier, Clyde.” He didn’t like what he saw, even if he’d apologized later for his attack. “Gon’ put a stop to that!” Moot got no farther than the end of the counter. His eyes cut to the hand on his arm.

  “You gon’ do to them what was done to you all those years ago?”

  “Not the same thing,” Moot declared.

  “Is if they want to be together and someone stop ‘em.” Clyde knew the depth of their relationship—something he kept to himself. “You ain’t gon’ let Sha miss out ’cause she don’t want to go against you, are ya?”

  Moot seemed to debate the question as he advanced on the door in time to see Sharlene palm both of her hands to Drake’s chest. What she said to him was anybody’s guess. What tumbled from her mouth as her eyes closed and her head shook made him wish he was a lip reader.

  * * * *

  While Moot spied, Sharlene continued to discourage Drake.

  “You’ve skipped over the most important ‘why not.’” Her eyes batted to dispel her flagrant admiration for the man.

  Drake’s arm snaked around Sharlene’s waist. He trapped her in his web of desire, weaving his spell like a sorcerer. She scuffled with temptation, trying to remain clearheaded and detached. His magnetism was just too strong. Her will weakened. Then her uncle filled the doorway.

  “Corm-i-er!”

  The couple froze. Sharlene sensed Drake’s adamant nature by the way his fingertips charred through her clothing. She clutched his biceps for a long, scrutinizing look into his eyes. “Uncle Moot—”

  “Quiet, Sha.” Moot came over to where they commiserated. “See them swamps out ther’?” His pause urged them to look into the dense darkness. “One sad tear roll from her eyes ’cause of you, Cormier…and ya alligator chum.” He didn’t linger for a reply.

  His menacing stamp of approval eased Sharlene’s affliction. She rested her head over Drake’s heart, hearing the kettledrum beat of excitement. Her arms slithered under his to grasp his shoulders. His excitement transferred. Sharlene nudged him lightly, and Drake leaned to take control of her lips. The taste was intoxicating.

  He came up for air. “I hope this means you’ll give me a chance.” His voice was gravelly when he spoke, his breathing irregular.

  A surrendering smile graced her lips. Sharlene traced the outline of his bottom jaw, whispering, “My answer…is…yes,” to the full complement of his teasing kisses. Her hands shifted to fondle the hair at the nape of his neck.

  The look in her eyes caressed him like a warm summer’s breeze. His flood of loneliness was over. Drake’s clinch tilted her into position to receive his passion-laced kiss. Her sensual zeal caused everything else in his world to gradually recede.

  Sharlene answered his epic show of fondness with a soft moan, realizing sometimes good things sprang from bad events. The Gulf oil catastrophe perpetuated a domino effect that Pauchex Pass would feel for years to come. She committed to continue to do her part in the recovery for she owed her new infatuation to that tragedy. She was ready to spread her wings. There was no one she’d rather soar with than the man who presently rained warm, tender kisses all over her face, proving he shared her affection.

  Their embrace loosened as the seal of silence cracked and allowed the surrounding noises to rush into their cocoon. Sharlene swayed to the music as an excuse not to let him release her. The powerful charge that jolted her obviously zapped him, too. She had no crystal ball to look into the future. Only the shimmering aura surrounding them forecast the magical promise of an enduring, loving relationship, as once more, he ravaged her lips.

  * * * *

  BayouBabe here. It’s been a while. Some things have changed. My handle is one of them. But the reasons for the posts haven’t. It’s been a year since the spill and a month since my arrival. Recovery is a slow, inconstant process continually hindered by bureaucracy and red tape. Depending on whom you ask, livelihoods in Pauchex Pass will or will not ever get back to normal. Yet, my fellow readers, you can play a role in the Pass’s revitalization. Come down for a meal. The waters fished, crabbed, and shrimped have been cleared. We’re only two hours or so from the closest big city. We welcome you. So come for a visit. Until the next time.

  Formerly BayouBabe99er

  THE END

  www.mickiesherwood.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Mickie Sherwood is an author and novice photographer, who takes nature pictures right in her own backyard. She loves to engage in her favorite pastime which also incites her creativity. Combine that aspect of her life with the enjoyment of spending time with her family and cruising vacations, and the development of interesting characters who encounter intriguing circumstances is n
ot very far behind. Mickie also likes a good laugh. Enjoy the humorous stories she tells about life at her blog—Mickie’s Mutterings.

  www.BookStrand.com