Sterling Heat by L.B. Dunbar EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: L.B. Dunbar
- Language: English
- Genre: Later in Life Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
October
[Enya]
Falling on my backside in front of a handsome man was the last thing I
expected to happen today.
Then again, the day has been full of surprises.
After leaving the small-town bakery with only minutes to spare before
it closed, a torrential downpour came out of nowhere as I stood on the
shop’s stoop. Balancing my tote and a paper bag containing one of the most
delicious-looking baby-Bundt cakes, I snapped open the travel umbrella I’d
found in the bottom of my oversized purse and risked the deluge.
However, when stepping onto the sidewalk, a gust of wind careened
along the storefronts on the quaint main street and jacked my umbrella. The
flimsy thing snapped backward to look like an art deco buttercup flower,
offering no protection from the cold, pelting rain which rode the wind and
came at me sideways. In an effort to right my worthless umbrella, I spun on
my heels in hopes the gusts of the gale would snap the thing back into its
proper position.
The wind took me as well, forcing me backward when the
umbrella momentarily expanded. As I tried to maintain my balance, the heel
of my over-priced stiletto slipped into a grate in the sidewalk. Struck by the
ridiculous physics of a thin spike wedging into an even slimmer slat
opening, my ankle gave way and I collapsed onto my ass.
“Miss, are you alright?” The broad and slightly rebellious-looking man
from the bakery I just left asked me.
Perfect. Just perfect.
For a moment, I sit on the rain-drenched sidewalk, allowing the chilly
drops to batter me, plastering my hair to my face and further drenching my
already soaked dress.
This is what I get for wanting to celebrate.
For wishing for something more in my life. For grasping at something
I never thought I’d have.
I almost laugh until the concern in the dark blue eyes of the large man
standing over me has me swallowing instead. His jeans are saturated at his
ankles, above a pair of solid biker boots. His white T-shirt is plastered to his
body, the opaque material accentuating dark hairs on his chest and the solid
muscles of his upper arms. He’s thick in the midsection. Firm might be a
better description. A paw of a hand extends toward me and slowly I lift
mine to accept his help.
My umbrella is nowhere in sight. The bag containing my miniature
cake tragically sits in a shallow puddle on the sidewalk. My foot has slipped
out of my shoe. My wounded pride is the only thing present. I’ve never
been so embarrassed. And my backside uncomfortably aches.
“Let’s get inside, yeah?” he yells over the torrent of rain, swiping at his
face to clear the drops. His eyes are kind. His voice rough. A sprinkling of
silver peppers among his temple and over his ears.
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