Indulgence (318 page)

Her answering machine picked up and she heard the voice of
her agent. “Mesa, darling. I need to talk to you about this book you sent me.
Please pick up.”

“All right, Mesa. I hate to say this, honey, but we can’t
publish this. We write romance. This doesn’t have a happily ever after, honey.
The heroine is miserable and we can’t sell this to anyone. You are a talented
woman beyond words, but this won’t sell. You need to rewrite the ending. I’ll
call you this afternoon.”

“I wish I fucking could!” she screamed at the answering
machine, bursting into tears. “God, I wish it had a happy ending. I want my
happy ending.”

“Never mind. I’m at your door. We need to talk now.”

The phone clicked indicating the woman had hung up just as
the doorbell rang.

“Just fucking great.” She buried her head in the pillow.
“Maybe if I don’t answer it, she’ll leave.”

“I know you’re in there, Mesa. Your car is in the driveway.
Open the door, honey.”

Mesa sighed and climbed to her feet. She was just going to
have to get this meeting over with so she could wallow in peace. “I’m coming!”
she yelled as the doorbell rang again. “What do you want, Madeline?”

“You look like shit, darling. What the hell happened to
you?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, something definitely. I’ve never seen you like this,”
Madeline said, shoving past her to enter her hallway. “Like I said on the
phone, we can’t sell this piece with this ending, Mesa. It won’t do.”

“I’m sorry, but it is what it is.”

“You need to rewrite it. The hero and heroine have to come
together somehow. Make him show up on her doorstep begging for her forgiveness
and confessing his love. It’s romantic. It’s fun. It’s what it needs.”

Mesa closed her eyes as she exhaled a deep sigh. “I just
can’t right now, Madeline. Maybe in a few weeks I’ll get over this melancholy
me and be able to give them their happy ending.”

“Honey, what happened in Texas?”

“Nothing.”

“You look like someone died, darling.”

“No. No one died. I’ll get over it. I’ll be back on track in
no time. You’ll see.”

“A man?”

Her eyes widened. Surely Madeline couldn’t tell she had a
man on the brain, could she?

“I’m fine really. Thanks for stopping by.” She pushed
Madeline toward the door. “I’ll call you next week. We can do lunch.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Thank you for being worried about me.”

“Call me if you need anything. All right?”

“I will.” She shut the door behind her agent and pressed her
back against the wood panel. She really needed to get over Joel, now. “Enough.
I can’t keep doing this.” She swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “He
obviously didn’t love me. It was nothing more than a quick fling like he said
from the beginning. I should never have let my heart get involved. Big mistake
from the get go.”

The doorbell rang, echoing the sound throughout her
apartment until she wanted to scream.
Bong. Bong.
Whoever was out there
wasn’t going away until she answered the damn door.

“What?” she yelled as she opened the door to find a
deliveryman.

“Ms. Arraguso?”

“Yes?”

He handed her the clipboard. “Sign here.”

She signed her name and he handed her a single red rose.
“That’s it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He walked away while she looked at the flower.
How weird.
Maybe it’s from a fan. She closed the door and walked into her kitchen to set
the beautiful blood red bud down. She needed a drink. Something strong. Lots of
alcohol to drown her breaking heart in.

She poured whiskey straight from the bottle into a glass and
then looked at the flower again. Something odd caught her attention, and she
frowned as peered closer at the flower. “What the hell? There’s writing on the
petals.”

She slowly peeled the silky layers back.

I can’t eat.

I can’t sleep.

I miss you.

I’m miserable without you.

The last one said…
I love you.

A soft knock sounded on the front door as she stood there in
shocked silence. Not even aware of what she was doing, she moved to the door
and opened it to find Joel standing there in all his cowboy glory with eleven
more blood red roses clutched in his hands. She let her gaze roam over him from
the top of his black Stetson to the tips of the dirty cowboy boots. He looked
good enough to eat.

“Do the tears mean you missed me, too?” he asked, his blue
eyes hopeful.

“God, did I miss you!” She threw her arms around his neck
and kissed him with all the pent up passion and love she held in her heart for
this crazy man. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” She punctuated each
phrase with a kiss.

She heard the rest of the bouquet crunch to the carpet as he
pulled her arms from around his neck and dropped to one knee. “Mesa, baby. Will
you marry me?”

Mesa covered her mouth as more tears streamed down her
cheeks. “Yes. I’ll marry you. When? Where? Right now? Let’s go to Vegas. We can
be married today. It’s only a four hour drive.”

“Slow down, baby. I’d marry you today, but my family would
kill me.”

She stuck out her lip in a small pout, hoping he would give
in. They could be married before the end of the day.

“I love you, Mesa.”

“I love you too, Joel.”

“We have to wait.”

“Why?”

“Because, I want to marry you in front of everyone. All my
brothers, your family. Everyone.” He grinned his heart-stopping grin. “But we
can start the honeymoon now.”

“Really?”

“Oh hell yeah!”

He swept her up in his arms before he kicked the door shut
with his boot. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Down the hall, cowboy.”

“I’m gonna make you scream, city girl.”

“Promise?”

“Promise with all my heart and soul.”

The fire in the fireplace hissed from the gas logs. Rain
pounded on the roof outside but Mesa didn’t care. She sat wrapped safe and warm
in her husband’s arms while they lounged on the rug in front of the fireplace
in nothing but bare skin. She had her very own happily ever after with her
cowboy. Soft country music played over the stereo system. A little George
Strait always put her in the mood for lovin’. Tonight was no exception. Of
course, it was their wedding night. The honeymoon would commence the next day
with a trip to Jamaica, but they’d decided to spend the night in their cabin.

After he’d shone up on her doorstep in Los Angeles, they’d
spent the day and night making up for lost time. It only took one I love you to
tell her she belonged with this man back in Texas. He went home after a week,
leaving her there to settle her life, give up her apartment and pack a truck.
He then flew back to ride from L.A. to Bandera with her. Their wedding took
only three months to plan. She couldn’t have waited much longer even though
they loved the nights away in their little spot of heaven beneath the wide
Texas night sky.

Noise coming from outside startled her out of her musings
until she snuggled back down against him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’.” His kissed the top of her head.
“It’s just my brothers causing a ruckus.”

“What are they up to?” She sat up and turned around in his
arms. “They aren’t like painting your truck with shaving cream or something,
are they?”

“I don’t know, but I’d expect them to tie cans to the back
bumper. I ain’t the first to get married since Jeff did it before me, but I’m
the first to have my wife snuggled up next to me on our weddin’ night here in
my cabin. Jeff spent his wedding night alone.”

“Seriously? What the hell?”

“I told you she was a bitch. She went out after the wedding
with her friends, passed out on someone’s floor and didn’t come home until two
days later.”

“Wow.” She glanced down at her wedding rings with a smile.
“I can’t believe we’re married.” A not so quick kiss to his lips forestalled
her next words for several minutes. She loved kissing Joel, anytime, anywhere.
They usually made the family uncomfortable with their show of affection. “It
was a beautiful ceremony even though it rained.”

“But it was great to have it in front of the fireplace in
the main lodge.” He pushed a piece of hair behind her ear before he trailed his
fingertips along her jaw. “You looked beautiful in your dress. Did I tell you
that?”

“You have now. You looked pretty handsome in your cowboy
finery.” She kissed his neck. “Did I ever tell you I have a thing for cowboys?”

“No really? I would never have guessed.” He laughed.

She punched him in the side.

“Ow!”

“Oh, I did not hurt you.”

He gave her a wounded look with a little pouty lip. Unable
to resist, she leaned in and sucked his bottom lip between her teeth before she
took a nip of it. A soft moan escaped his mouth as he grabbed her head,
slanting it just so for a deeper kiss. Their tongues tangled for a good while
before he lifted his head and looked into her soul with those beautiful blue
eyes.

“I love you Mrs. Young.”

“I love you too, Mr. Young. So much. More than anything in
this life.” Tears formed, spilling down her cheeks.

“Hey! Why the tears?”

“Happy tears. I’m so glad you came to L.A.”

“You’ve already thanked my mother for her intervention on
your behalf like a thousand times.”

He tucked her in next to his side, holding her close. Her
head rested on his broad chest. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you hadn’t.”

“I’m beyond thrilled we don’t have to find out. Now, hush. I
have a wife to love.”

“Hmm,” she hummed in between kisses. “I like your thinking,
Sir.”

“Good. Kiss me, woman.”

“Where, Sir?”

“Anywhere you want.”

*THE END*

Sandy Sullivan is a romance author, who, when not writing,
spends her time with her husband Shaun on their farm in middle Tennessee. She
loves to ride her horses, play with their dogs and relax on the porch, enjoying
the rolling hills of her home south of Nashville. County music is a passion of
hers and she loves to listen to it while she writes.

She is an avid reader of romance novels and enjoys reading
Nora Roberts, Jude Deveraux and Susan Wiggs. Finding new authors and delving
into something different helps feed the need for literature. A registered nurse
by education, she loves to help people and spread the enjoyment of romance to
those around her with her novels. She loves cowboys so you'll find many of her
novels have sexy men in tight jeans and cowboy boots

You can find her at:

Website:
http://romancestorytime.com

Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2006883.Sandy_Sullivan

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sandy-Sullivan

Email:
[email protected]

Newsletter:
http://bit.ly/1PEwDtW

by
Sharon Hamilton

I am eternally grateful to the men and women who put their
lives on the line every day, wear a uniform, and, in my humble opinion, don’t
get paid enough for what they do. But they don’t do it for the money, or even
for the glory of it. They do it because they have found within themselves that
inner strength and compassion to do something that others won’t or cannot do.
And they do it for us, even if we don’t always appreciate it as much as we
should.

I am grateful I get to bring these stories to light.
Understand, these are completely fictitious characters, and the portrayal of
their strengths, their internal thoughts, if they were lacking, are solely
reflective of my interpretation. You should not judge the SEAL community or
their families by my writing. I only
try
to help readers get acquainted
with the wonderful heroes I’ve been fortunate to get to know.

Wounded Warriors is a project I donate to, and I encourage
all of you, if you are called to do so, look them up and see what you can do.
Volunteer at a Navy for Moms project, or Pets for Patriots. You can send
packages to service men and women, adopting someone else’s son or daughter who
might want to hear from someone who cares.

Our troops need your support, especially now. Let’s not
forget, as we rush around in our busy lives, not to be too busy to say thanks.
EVERY FRIDAY we wear red to show our support for the men and women who serve,
praying that they come home safe to a grateful nation.

So, even if you can’t donate to veteran’s causes, Wounded
Warriors or Pets for Patriots, as well as many other charities that do such
fine work, you can do something for them that won’t cost you a dime or a minute
of your time:

WEAR RED ON FRIDAYS!

Gina had rolled her ankle twice as she hobbled along the wet
sidewalk in her red patent leather four-inch heels. She was already flustered
since she was running a good twenty minutes behind schedule, but she wouldn’t
run. The last thing she needed was to fall and end up walking in there with
skinned knees or a bloody nose. She really needed to settle her nerves—now—in
order to survive the night.

She was determined her first undercover assignment would be
a success. She’d made the connection with the girl, Mia, and her gangland
friends. The two of them had hung out together a few times, but Gina was about
to raise the bar. She was going to get up close and personal with Carlos, the
infamous Scorpions of San Diego leader who had taken over for Caesar during his
incarceration.

The distinctive, unhealthy bar smells assaulted Gina’s
senses before she saw the dim lights and the flickering neon sign advertising “Babes.”
She’d not been to this particular part of town before, and wasn’t used to
meeting the men who frequented the bar—men who paid to watch topless dancers
gyrating on poles way too close to the customers.