Midnight Diamonds

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Authors: Cynthia Hampton

BOOK: Midnight Diamonds
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Table of Contents

 

 

Copyright Warning

 

~ Dedication ~

 

Chapter One

 

Chapter Two

 

Chapter Three

 

Chapter Four

 

Chapter Five

 

Chapter Six

 

Chapter Seven

 

Chapter Eight

 

Chapter Nine

 

Chapter Ten

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

~ About the Author ~

 

~ More Romance from Etopia Press ~

 

 

Midnight Diamonds

The Rivers Brothers Book One

Cynthia Hampton

 

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (
http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/
).

 

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

Published By

Etopia Press

136 S. Illinois Ave. Suite 212

Oak Ridge, TN 37830

http://www.etopiapress.com

Midnight Diamonds

 

Copyright © 2015 by Cynthia Hampton

ISBN: 978-1-941692-66-0

 

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

 

First Etopia Press electronic publication: March 2015

 

~ Dedication ~

 

 

For family and friends who told me repeatedly, “You can do this!”

 

Chapter One

 

 

“Don’t give up on me, Buddy.” Silver Madison patted the dashboard of her sputtering 1966 Mustang convertible. Usually she sped along the highway enjoying the wind in her hair, but today the night-mist blue vintage car coughed along at a snail’s pace. She waved at frustrated drivers who whipped around her and blasted their horns.

“Honking at the choir, people! And that finger doesn’t impress me. I have one exactly like it! See?”

She eased off the busy road and onto a red dirt parking lot outside Hitching Post Arena. The car’s engine wheezed loudly then sputtered into a death rattle. Silver struggled with the powerless steering wheel, guided Buddy to a halt, then shoved the gearshift into park.

So much for having some fun during fall break. She had enough challenges in her life, and now her most prized possession had become a heap of metal and bolts.

“This isn’t funny, Buddy!” Silver opened the door and climbed out, slammed it shut, then walked to the front tire and kicked it. “Just like a stupid, uncooperative male to leave me stranded.”

As if all this wonderfulness weren’t enough, now she had to endure the insanity of a country music contest for the next few hours. Silver didn’t like country music, didn’t want to listen to it, didn’t want to pretend to enjoy it. She knew the songs, heard them on the radio, but sometimes those wailing tunes reminded her too much of the past year. She’d rather be trimming her lawn with nail clippers than be at the arena tonight.

But when her best friend Becky Sinclair had called to say
Tulsa People
magazine had assigned her to interview one of the singers, and she asked Silver to meet her at the arena, Silver couldn’t say no. Suddenly she remembered a co-worker had dropped Becky off and realized that with Buddy out of commission, they now had no way to get home.

Challenge #995 for the day. Add it to the growing list.

Silver looked up as thunder rumbled and lightning streaked across the sky.

“Really? I’m at the back of this miserable excuse for a parking lot with a dead car, about to be tortured with this stupid music, and it’s going to rain?”

Slipping her fingers under the blue metal, Silver popped a lever on the hood and propped it open, staring at the ancient gears and belts. Yes, she had an engine—for all the good it did. Rubbing a hand over her forehead, she leaned her legs against the front grill. Could this day get any worse?

“Need some help, darlin’?” a deep voice asked.

Yes, it could.

She hated being called darlin’. The Southern nickname always grated on her nerves, especially lately. The last six months, to be exact. Silver straightened with an exasperated breath. “Don’t…”

Her breath caught when she saw the source of irritation.

A tall man stared at her, his dark blue eyes shadowed by jet-black eyebrows and hair. He looked vaguely familiar but she didn’t know why. A day’s growth of beard framed a smile, giving his tanned face a slightly scruffy appearance. A black T-shirt clung to the solid muscles of his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Khaki shorts covered his muscular thighs. The dark haired dream-come-to-life stood beside the car with one hand on Buddy’s roof, giving her a delicious glimpse of his flat stomach and making her wish…oh so many sinfully inventive things. She wanted to touch that firm, warm skin and trail her fingers…

“Don’t what?” he asked.

Blinking, she shook her head against the onslaught of those wayward thoughts. Geez! Focus, Silver.

With a trembling finger, she pointed to the car. “Uh, don’t…not…sure…what’s wrong.” Oh, that was priceless. An English teacher who didn’t know how to use her words. She tried again. “The engine made this strange noise, started cutting out, then it died.”

“Did you run out of gas?”

She squared her shoulders. “No, and I take good care of my things.”

He did a slow inspection, starting with her feet and ending with her face. “I can see that. Mind if I take a gander?”

“If you’re the goose.” Did she just say that out loud?

He chuckled and leaned under the hood, stretching his shorts tight over his fine assets. She moaned in appreciation.

“Did you say something?” he asked.

“No…well, yes… I mean, I’m just frustrated.” That was an understatement.

“Car trouble will do that.” He reached in and wiggled something with his hand. “Want to give it a try now?”

“Yes, I would,” she replied while watching those broad shoulders. He turned his head and arched one eyebrow. “Oh, you mean the car. Right.”

Silver felt her face grow warm with embarrassment as he laughed under his breath. Ugh! Could she be more obvious? Don’t objectify the delectable…and when had she last responded so viscerally to a man? Never!

“Any time, darlin’,” he said.

She opened the door, reached in and turned the key. To her surprise, the car started immediately, purring with its usual power. “What was wrong?”

“One of the carburetor wires slipped loose. Easy enough to fix.”

Straightening back up, she smiled at him. “I really appreciate it. Is there something I can do to say thank you?”

He grinned but shook his head. “It’s not necessary. Glad I could help.”

“I insist. Uh…dinner? Coffee? My ticket to the contest?”

Me, please?

“You don’t need your ticket?”

“I don’t like cowboys or country music.”

His smiled faded a bit. “That’s too bad. I’ve heard there’s some pretty good talent.”

She shook her head. “All cowboys think they’re good.”

Laughing, he reached toward her. “Well, darlin’, some of us are good.”

She backed away a step. “What are you doing?”

He pointed toward her. “You’ve got some dirt on your forehead. Probably from the car.”

“Thanks.” She rubbed a hand across the area. Good grief, had it been there the whole time they’d been talking?

“Wait, you’re making it worse.” He reached into a back pocket and pulled out a black bandanna. Of course, because every male over the age of twelve this side of the Mississippi River either carried one or wore one.

He stepped closer and gently rubbed the cloth over her forehead. She inhaled and closed her eyes when a delicious scent of clean male and woodsy musk surrounded her, making her knees tremble. Bracing herself against him with her hands, she felt hard muscles beneath her fingers. Oh, she’d give up a year’s worth of Golden Oreos to slide her hands under his shirt and discover more of what his chest promised…to trail a finger along those hard curves into the waistband of those khaki shorts. She opened her eyes and saw him holding out the bandanna. His eyes were focused on her lips as he cleared his throat.

“You can keep it. The bandanna, I mean.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she whispered as she took it, silently thinking she most definitely could, possibly…maybe.

He pulled out his phone and rolled his thumb over the face of it. “Listen, I’ve got people waiting on me inside, so I need to go.”

She wiped her forehead. “I have people, not I’ve got,” she corrected automatically then felt another blush creep over her face. “Sorry, occupational hazard.”

“You’re a teacher?” When she nodded, he smiled. “What’s your name, darlin’?” He held out his hand.

She bit down on her irritation at the sobriquet as the warm strength from his hand gave her an odd sense of rightness, as if she shouldn’t let go. “Silver Madison. Not darlin’.”

He withdrew his hand and stood watching her for a few moments, making her tense with worry that she’d offended him, until he smiled.

“Pretty name for a beautiful lady. Good to meet you, Silver.”

“You, too. Thanks again for helping with Buddy.” At his frown, she pointed to the car. “It’s named after my uncle.”

Nodding, he tapped the car with one hand. “You and Buddy take care. Try to enjoy the show.” She waved as he winked, climbed inside a black pickup truck parked behind Buddy and drove to the other side of the arena. The winking thing bothered her as much as the “darlin’” nickname, but it didn’t matter. He was gone.

Silver lifted the bandanna and inhaled again. “That definitely brightened my otherwise crappy day.”

The skies opened with a gentle rain. She slid into the navy blue leather driver’s seat, checked the rearview mirror to make sure the dirt on her forehead was gone, and tossed the handkerchief onto the passenger seat. Then she drove to a parking spot closer to the arena. Dodging the rain, she ran into the lobby of the massive steel building, where loud music assaulted her ears. Becky jumped up and down, waving to her from a brightly lit concession stand.

“Sil! Where have you been?”

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