First Comes Attraction...

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Formally Titles as Case One

Took 2nd in 2008 Valley Forge’s Sheila

Honorable Mention in 2008 Golden Claddaugh

First Comes Attraction...

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Seduced and Blackmailed

-Southern Mystery

First Comes Attraction…

-Southern Mystery

Sara Livingston set her brother’s beer on the table and wiped her hands down the rag hanging from her apron. “Anything else?”

Robbie lifted the bottle but didn’t glance from whatever he happened to be studying. “When you turn around, there’s a man in the far corner, a red shirt. I’ve seen him in here before. Know anything about him?”

So he was working. Her brother was a private investigator and working would explain his heavy focus and less than normal amount of typical, and irritating, brotherly ribbing this time of the evening. “Do you know his name?”

He nodded. “Bryan Dillon.”

She straightened. Bryan Dillon? What could Bryan have done? The man was married with a heavy appetite for alcohol and redheads and little else. His blonde wife knew that and was thankful for it. So long as Bryan kept drowning himself in cheap beer and doing tempered women, Mrs. Dillon could keep doing the neighbor. Something Bryan knew about, but didn’t give a flip about either.

So far as Sara knew, Bryan worked days at a local hardware store picking his way through screws, nails, and other things for customers who didn’t have clue. If she ever went to the hardware store, she’d have to find Bryan.

She shrugged. Never know with some people. “He’s always been polite. A bit simple minded. His wife is having an affair and he cheats around, too. And he works at a hardware store, uh—Parker’s. Parker’s Hardware. Might be more, but I’d have to think about it.”

Robbie shook his head. “That’s good.”

A tall man stopped at her side. “Hi there, Gorgeous.”

If she hadn’t been a bar waitress for years, oh-yeah, and been called variations of gorgeous uncountable times this evening, then maybe she would have spared the man a look. Then there was the little fact that she had been on her feet for the last seven hours with another three to go, plus the two hours she spent on billing all left her feeling not particularly fresh and flirty. The downside to working for family. “Not interested.”

Robbie groaned and his focus shifted to her in an instant. “Hell. Clark, my baby sister, Sara.”

She grimaced. Just wonderful. She’d had a hell of a busy night and now she had to play the, I’m-the-sweet-little-sister-role or else be confronted with her brother later for all but giving his friend the bird. She plastered on a smile and faced Clark. “Sorry. Thought you were…” An ass? Dickhead? Jerk looking to pick me up for the night? She kept smiling, “someone else.”

Clark’s mossy green eyes widened and looked at Robbie. “You’ve got a sister?”

Robbie scrubbed over his face. “Yeah.”

“I’ve known you for six years and you never mentioned you had a sister. You told me about Jeffery, your other brother.” Clark looked at her and smiled. Those eyes, boy they were nice eyes too, focused on her. “You never mentioned word of a sister.” He lowered his head and seemed a bit closer. “I would have remembered.”

“Sara, this is Clark Russells.” Robbie glanced to her with a pained expression on his face. “He works with me at Addison’s. Just ignore him. Please.”

Ignore him. Yeah, right. Deliciously handsome. Skin tanned like he just returned from the Caribbean. Wide chest that suggested he not only knew what a weight machine looked like, but also how to operate it, and did so frequently. An Amazon would stop and admire this man.

His nose was a touch crocked, but hair styled nicely. He wore pressed pants and a clean, yellow polo shirt. There was a presence about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Trouble three times over came to mind. Another man just like the last two who broke her heart seemed to fit him as well.

Clark stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

She stared at his hand, frozen in her spot. His fingers were long and smooth. His nails were nicely trimmed short. It was free of warts, excess hair, or any other such nasty things that’d keep her from touching it, but she still didn’t take his hand. That something about him—too much self-confidence, maybe?—she couldn’t be sure but figured taking his hand would nearly be the same as shaking hands with the devil.

He chuckled. “It’s clean, I promise.”

She glanced up at his face and her belly hopped around like it was full of crickets. And good heavens, it was hotter than normal in the bar. Definite signs of hell. He continued to fasten her with that direct stare. His eyes only moved to search hers.

She took his hand and hers was swallowed by his much larger, warmer grasp. “Always nice to meet friends of Robbie’s.”

“Unfortunate that we haven’t met sooner.”

Robbie cleared his throat. “Clark, we have business here.”

Clark released her hand and sat. “Right.”

Her hand felt cold without his touch. She rubbed it, trying to find feeling in it once again. Clark’s hand stretched over the table. His rough hand fisted and relaxed and his thumb stroked over the glossy wood. Her hand itched and warmed at the sight. And so did her body.

Good heavens it was ridiculous to be getting all feely over the sight of a man’s hand.

Excerpt from Chapter One

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