NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
My name is Opal Mae McCool. I love my parents, but that name? Ugh, but I’ve adjusted. This year has been rocking along until October when my entire life lands in the toilet and someone flushes. First, my groom dumps me at the altar. Confession…not as destroyed as I should have been. Then, I share a steamy kiss with old love which leads to…nothing. Radio silence. Fine. Disappointed, but moving on. However, it’s almost Christmas and I make a quick overnight business trip to Montana just in time for the snowmageddon and I’m stuck in Bozeman with only clean panties and a toothbrush. Next year has to be better, right?
I’m Michael Rockland. Born, raised and will die in Texas and I’m fine with that. I’m a mechanic at heart, even if my everyday job doesn’t allow me under the hood. About a month ago, I discovered I’m the Friday Lunch Special at a local diner. I’d be pissed if it wasn’t for a good cause and it hadn’t led me back to the love of my life. One hot, steamy kiss, a promise for the future, and she shuts me out. Harsh, but I’m a big boy. I can deal with reality, except when she ends up on my grandparents’ doorstep in Montana.
My dad doesn’t approve of him. His mother doesn’t approve of me. It’s not quite the Capulets and Montagues, and we are long past the teenage years, so isn’t it time to let us decide if we belong together or not?
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After being dumped at the alter by a man who declared his love for her cousin, Mae has been a bit of a recluse. Not wanting the looks of pity she dove into her work and didn’t bother going out.
Her friend KatiLyn decides enough is enough and insists on taking her to lunch. What a lunch it turns out to be.
This is a favorite scene.
KatiLyn whipped into the parking lot of Maude’s Diner and found a spot between a Bentley and a Mercedes.
“We’re here,” she announced with a bright smile.
“Seriously?” I looked around a lot filled with expensive cars, not one of them under a one-hundred-thousand starting sales price. “What’s the deal? What’s with all the expensive cars?”
“The ten-dollar lunch special. Come on. I hope we get a table.”
my feet was chipped in spots, with the white being mostly an aged yellow. There were about fifteen tables, each one occupied by young, attractive women dressed in pricey outfits. There wasn’t a face without perfect makeup, except for the three ladies dressed in classic pink waitress uniforms working the eatery. A row of ten stools stood in front of a long eating counter, which faced the waitresses’ work area and kitchen window. A glass of iced tea or a cup of coffee sat in front of each patron.
“Yay. We got lucky,” KatiLyn announced announced as she race-walked to the last empty table.
The table wasn’t a prime location by any definition. Stuck in the back corner, the two of us could barely squeeze into the chairs.
“I am so confused,” I said with a frown.
“Don’t worry. All will become clear very soon.”
My stomach growled, and I reached for the plastic menu standing upright between the napkin holder and the bottle of ketchup. The menu had nothing on it that would, in my opinion, draw so many women in for lunch. Most of the offerings were deep fried. I suspected the cook could deep fry a salad, if requested.
The roar of a motorcycle in the parking lot had all the ladies fluffing their hair and arching their backs to project their assets. An excited chattering rose among the tables.
I glanced over at the waitresses behind the bar and watched as the oldest one shook her head and turned to speak through the kitchen window to the male cook.
The door opened, and he swaggered in. Dressed in ass-hugging jeans, a black leather jacket pulled tight around his broad shoulders, and a pair of thick-soled motorcycle boots, his presence seemed to suck the air from the room, or possibly the lack of oxygen might be related to my own inability to draw in a breath. His shiny, dark hair was disheveled as though he’d just run his fingers through it…pretty much what I suspected every woman in this room wanted to do. His cheeks and jaw sported a scruff that brought a tingle to the junction between my thighs at thought of that soft stubble abrading the tender skin there.
Except, I didn’t have to imagine what that would feel like. I knew.
I grabbed KatiLyn’s knee and squeezed…pretty hard, if her noisy intake of breath was any indication.
I tossed a frown at KatiLyn and mouthed, What the fuck?
Her only reply was to squeeze my hand before prying my dug-in fingers out of her flesh.
“Hey, Maude,” he said, his voice deep and rough with testosterone and sex appeal. “Is my lunch ready?”
“Almost. Give me a minute.”
“Anything for you,” he said to the older woman.
My heart tapped out an SOS on my chest wall. My breathing stuttered, and my stomach rolled over. My fight or flight response kicked in, and I fought the urge to run.
Thank goodness, I was seated in the corner. The odds were, he would never see me.
Why was I so bothered by seeing him? Why didn’t I jump up and run over to say hi? It’d been ten years, and we had been friends, right?
Was it because my legs had turned to jelly and wouldn’t support my weight?
Or was I embarrassed to be sitting here with all these bored, rich women who had nothing better to do than drink a glass of tea while ogling a man who’d only come in to get his lunch?
He glanced around the café, smiled at the women, acknowledging his audience with a slight nod. But he couldn’t just give them a simple smile. Oh no. He had to pour out his panty-melting smile that no woman could resist.
His gaze swept past our table to the next. And then he froze. His head and gaze returned to me. He lifted one eyebrow in my direction then collected his lunch and sauntered back out the door.
The second the door closed, I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I heard other women doing the same.
D’Alba, Cynthia. Christmas in His Arms: A Dallas Debutante/Reunited Lovers/Christmas Story (Dallas Debutantes) . Riante, Inc. Kindle Locations (243-280). Kindle Edition.
The feelings seeing Michael rekindled wouldn’t go away so she conspires with Maude for a meet-up with him. The connection appeared to still be there but apparently not enough for him to call.
I love how this story progresses with an airport rescue of sorts. Lots of fun, romance, some family drama and Kindle melting heat.
5 Contented Purrs for Cynthia!
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Hi Y’All! I’m Cynthia D’Alba from Arkansas.Here’s a little about me…New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Cynthia D’Alba started writing on a challenge from her husband in 2006 and discovered having imaginary sex with lots of hunky men was fun.
She was born and raised in a small Arkansas town. After being gone for a number of years, she’s thrilled to be making her home back in Arkansas living in a vine-covered cottage on the banks of an eight-thousand acre lake. When she’s not reading or writing or plotting, she’s doorman for her two dogs, cook, housekeeper and chief bottle washer for her husband and slave to a noisy, messy parrot. She loves to chat online with friends and fans.