Sometimes love speaks for itself…
WITHOUT WORDS
Delancey Stewart
Releasing May 22, 2017
Entangled Select
Sometimes love speaks for itself…
After an
accident in the line of duty, firefighter Roberto DeRosa’s life is turned
upside down. His career fighting fires is over, and he’s left with an uncertain
future and an injury that makes communicating difficult for him. The only time
words flow easily is when they’re lyrics and he has a guitar in his hands. Talking
to women is definitely out, especially if they have bright blue eyes that seem
to see right into his soul.
Dani Hodge
is on the brink of realizing her dream of opening a small combination wine and
book store in San Diego’s funky Ocean Beach neighborhood. But before she can
open the doors, there’s work to be done, more work than she can do herself.
When the
tattooed guy who completely ignored her at a bar walks by and offers her a hand
wrangling a tile saw, Dani can’t afford to say no—and why would she say no to
Mr. Strong and Silent when his stare conveys more than words could?
I caught
Trent’s attention at the bar, putting my back to the girl and focusing on
getting my heart to slow down, letting my blood cool.
And just when
I’d gotten control of myself again, she was right fucking next to me, and my
mind went blank.
Or most parts
of my mind, at least. The parts in charge of caveman stuff—the parts that
screamed at me to pick her up, throw her over my shoulder, and find a wall to
fuck her against—those parts were working fine. Unfortunately.
“Hi,” she
said.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I stared at
her. I was blank. I reached for a word to give her and my mind was empty. Even
the one word she’d said would have been fine. I could have parroted it back to
her. But it had fluttered up into the noise and light inside the bar and
evaporated. Even that one simple word was out of my reach.
I watched her
expression change. She’d said “hi” like she was extending a bridge, a thin
filament I might just be able to risk stepping onto. But as she waited for me
to return her greeting, to say fucking anything at all, the bridge dissolved.
And her face
closed up. The sparkle in her bright eyes faded, and her energy pulled back
inside her, leaving me cold again. A mixture of fear and surprise replaced the
glow on her face, and I felt both guilty and monstrous as I watched what it did
to her. She let other words fall between us. Nonsense, really. I’d made her
uncomfortable, unhappy. And I already knew she was a girl I never wanted to see
unhappy.
Finally, she
turned around and went back to her table, pulled the other girl toward the
door, and disappeared into the night beyond. And the strange light that had
filled the club was extinguished.
Delancey
Stewart writes
contemporary romance from her home outside Washington D.C. In a house populated
by two tiny pirates and one full-sized Marine aviator, inspiration for her
heroes is never hard to find—though quiet time to write often is!
No comments:
Post a Comment