Rekindled Heat: The Aphrodite Chronicles Story Two
Erotic Paranormal Short Story
Word Count – 9,311
Secret Cravings Publishing
She had loved and lost…and gained.
Drea Tate had loved once. One night shattered her world. Left alone and pregnant, Drea moved to Second Chance, Pennsylvania and began a new life for her and her son.
Bail Enforcement Agent Micah Bridges lands the opportunity to score some quick money catching a bail jumper in a sleepy town in Pennsylvania. Little did he know that he’d find the woman he’d loved…and a son he didn’t know had existed.
“Why don’t you get us both a beer?” was the man’s only reply. Official part of the meeting was over. Time for some alcohol.
Micah weaved his way through the tables toward the bar. He wedged his body between two people sitting on stools at the end. While he waited for the bartender, he tapped his fingertips against the scarred, wooden counter top. Though he wouldn’t mind if she took her time.
She had one of the finest asses he’d ever seen. Heart-shaped and softly rounded. Just enough for a man to grab hold of. She wore form-fitting jeans and a snug, black T-shirt. Bleached-blonde hair, cut short, drew his attention to her long, elegant neck.
Memories slammed into his mind, nearly staggering him. He had once known someone with a similar body build. Right down to the elegant neck. She had been slimmer than the bartender. But she had been his. They had pledged their love, their futures, to one another.
He shook his head to clear his mind of the visions of her. That was years ago. Time had changed him. Made him harder, scarred him, made him more of a realist. He had loved her, but sometimes situations made a person walk away from the ones they cared for.
Someone moved passed and air wafted behind him. Micah sniffed. The normal bar smells were there, but another scent assaulted him.
Warm, alluring vanilla.
Realization crashed over him, robbing him of breath and weakening his knees. He had to lean against the bar to support himself.
That scent belonged to only one person.
The love he’d thought was lost forever.
* * * *
Awareness crept up Drea Tate’s spine. Someone’s gaze weighed heavily upon her.
She turned and looked down the length of the bar. Mostly her regulars.
A man with blonde hair slicked away from his face stood at the opposite end. He leaned what she estimated to be a six-foot tall frame against the counter, probably waiting for her. Drea excused herself and moved toward him. Something about him was oddly familiar. Like she’d met him before. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew this stranger…intimately.
Suddenly, her stomach summersaulted, and she paused, mid-step, to lay a hand over it. Strange.
Drea continued to approach the customer. For reasons unbeknownst to her, her belly fluttered wildly again. She’d once known a man who could make her feel like a high school girl crushing on her first love.
He had been her real first love. The man she would have walked with through the burning fires of Hell.
The father of her four-year-old son, Reed.
Couldn’t be him. He’d died years ago. His uncle had told her that.
With a mental shrug, she reached the customer. “What can I get you?”
Her eyes locked with his. She’d know those amber-colored pools anywhere. She froze, rooted to the floor. It couldn’t be.
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I’m a writer of sexy romances with a kick of heat! Though my contracted stories are paranormals, I haven’t discounted writing a contemporary or two.
I live in Pennsylvania just a hair shy of the Maryland border. I live with a family I adore which includes two furry feline children and a furry canine daughter.
In my spare time, I’m more than likely watching television. I watch Bones, Blue Bloods, NCIS:New Orleans, or some sort of car show like Wheeler Dealers.
I’m a huge sports fan, football in particular. During the fall/winter, I’m watching Notre Dame or Penn State on Saturdays and the Saints or Colts on Sunday.
I’ve been known to have my nose buried in a book. Nora Roberts/JD Robb and Clive Cussler are favorites of mine. I know, I know…Clive Cussler isn’t a romance author. The man can weave a tale of adventure like no other!
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