The creek began at a dip in the path, and I followed it for a bit, listening to the water bounce off the rocks and travel upstream. I found the perfect spot just where the creek turned and began its descent. I spread the throw Lou gave me and lay down on it, the sun hitting my skin as it peeked through the trees. The rays were the perfect temperature, heating my skin but not making me sweat.
"I could do this forever," I said, closing my eyes and relaxing.
I wasn't sure how long I lay like that, my eyes closed, breathing in the fresh scents of lavender and pine, but the slight sound of soft, muted and rhythmic tones vibrated through the air and grabbed my attention. Someone was playing an acoustic guitar nearby, keeping me from dropping completely into slumber. I sat up and scanned the area for the sweet-sounding melody.
I found the strummer across the creek. A man with shaggy blond hair, just a little too long, wearing a blue t-shirt and khaki shorts sat on a similar throw, with an exact copy of the drawstring bag Lou gave me. He caught me gazing in his direction and our eyes locked. He lifted his mouth into a smile so sexy my body lurched forward, as if being pulled to him. I pushed my hands into the ground to stop myself from running across the creek to him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Did I wake you?" His voice was low and sultry and had me melting into a puddle of Carly mush before he finished a sentence.
My voice came out high and pitchy. "Oh no, not at all. I was just lying here relaxing. Please keep playing. It's beautiful."
"Thanks, it's just a little something I've started working on. It's not finished." He smiled again, and very specific parts of my body became fully aware of his presence.
"You wrote that? Wow. That's really good."
He nodded. "Thanks. It's what I do. I write music. Name's Ben." He raised a hand and waved it, and I couldn't help but notice his long, thin fingers, how they swayed as he waved, and how he spread them wide, only to fold them back together again.
I breathed in a quick breath, catching myself before I let out a squeal of pleasure from watching that small but alluring hand gesture.
What was wrong with me?
Ben. Ben was cute. And Ben played the guitar. Ben wrote music. And Ben had a smile that made my stomach jump. Not to mention that Ben had broad shoulders and thin, muscular arms that filled up and busted out of the short sleeves of his shirt. I reached my arm out, hoping it could stretch across the suddenly monstrous sized creek to touch his muscles. I thought Ben might be just what I needed to fix my broken heart. "Hi Ben, I'm Carly. Nice to meet you." I waved back.
"You too," he said. "I'll let you get back to your relaxing. Got any special requests? I can play and sing just about anything."
I didn't want him to play the guitar. I wanted him to strum his fingers all over my body instead. I bit my lip to stop myself from making that suggestion.
Of course, when it came to figuring out a song, my mind went blank. "Uh." I pulled my blonde curls back and wrapped them into a ponytail holder. "I can't think of anything, but please, keep playing."
"How about this?" He strummed the strings and a combination moan, hum, sexy groaning sound escaped his mouth.
Good Lord, he could sing too. It made me squirm, and my insides melted. After a few more of those sexy sounds, I recognized the song. "Sunday Morning," a sensual, romantic ballad by Maroon Five. Only he sang it better than the singer, at least in my opinion. I touched my chin to make sure my jaw wasn't hanging open.
There was something familiar in Ben's voice, but I couldn't quite place it. It almost sounded as if he was trying to mimic a singer from a band, but the band's name escaped me. He was really good and could probably out-sing anyone I'd heard on the radio as of late, including whoever that elusive band singer was.
He sang the whole song, and the only time he didn't maintain eye contact with me was when he closed his eyes, hitting the higher notes. I was uncomfortable but not in a bad way, shifting on the throw, sitting on my hands and resting them on my lap. I couldn't take my eyes off him. Watching the way his hands moved, the way his fingers touched the strings of the guitar, the way his Adam's apple floated up and down his neck when his voice lowered. The way he licked his lips and smiled as he sang the chorus, gazing steadily into my eyes the whole time.
My heart rate kicked up a notch and my blood rushed through my body, warming those same parts that awoke just a minute or two before. I crossed my legs instinctively in an attempt to hide the attraction my body wanted to make obvious. Tiny pellets of sweat formed on my forehead. What the heck was happening to me? He was just a guy playing the guitar, but my senses went into overdrive. I could hear every chord his fingers played, every note his voice hit. I could practically feel his eyes blink, taste the moisture on his lips as he licked them between breaths. I wanted to jump up and run, run across that creek and throw myself at him like a pre-teen at a boy band concert.
When he finished, I golf clapped—a pathetic attempt at being cute. Truth be told, I could listen to him forever, but I feared if I did I would actually become that pre-teen at a boy band concert, so instead, I gathered my things to leave. "That was really amazing. You're incredibly talented," I said, stumbling over my words. "I'd love to stay and listen some more, but I need to get back and get ready for dinner."
He set the guitar on the throw. "Got it. No worries. I'll be here tomorrow, too. Same time. Same place." He ran a hand through his hair. "If you're not busy, of course. I'm always happy to have an audience."
Did his teeth sparkle when he smiled or was my imagination in high gear?
"Great. That's great," I said, struggling to speak, afraid I'd say something pre-teenish. "I may just come by. If I'm not busy, I mean." I waved as I walked away, and said, "Nice meeting you, Ben."
"You too, Carly."
He said Carly with such a heated, soft sexiness I actually moaned a little.
About Carolyn Ridder Aspenson
Former Booktrope Editions and AmazonEncore author and editor Carolyn Ridder Aspenson is the best selling author of the cozy mystery Angela Panther Series, Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Mystery Unbreakable Bonds An Angela Panther Mystery and Uncharted Territory An Angela Panther Mystery, The Inn At Laurel Creek, a contemporary romance novella, Santa's Gift, a Cumming Christmas Novella and 8 To Lose The Weight, a life style eating program.
Aspenson is a freelance writer and editor living in Atlanta, GA. For more information, visit carolynridderaspenson.com.
MORE GREAT READS
FROM
CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON
The Inn at Laurel Creek
DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? CARLY HOWARD DOESN'T.
Frustrated and hurt by the news of her ex-boyfriend's pending marriage to a virtual stranger, Carly escapes to a small-town bed and breakfast in the mountains of North Georgia to heal her wounded heart.
At the Inn Carly meets struggling musician Ben, and their instant connection is undeniable. Even though she knows next to nothing about the sexy singer with the crooked smile and sensitive soul, that doesn't stop her heart from suddenly feeling like it’s home.
Can Carly’s newfound feelings survive when she discovers Ben isn't who he seems?
Unfinished Business An Angela Panther Mystery
In UNFINISHED BUSINESS AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY, #1 AMAZON bestselling author Carolyn Ridder Aspenson introduces her now trademark blend of witty dialog and hilarious banter in the first book of her hilarious and heartwarming paranormal chick lit, cozy mystery, Angela Panther series.
When Angela Panther's mother Fran Richter wakes her up in the middle of the night ranting about stolen Hershey Bars, Angela thinks her mother's got a screw loose. And then it hits her. Her mother is dead. Just a few hours before, Angela watched as the funeral home staff nearly dropped her mother's body off the gurney while sliding her into the hearse. So maybe she's the one that's nuttier than a fruitcake?
But Fran keeps popping in and with a volcano full of drama already brewing at home—crazy or not�
�Angela's grateful for her mother's presence.
It's the other ghosts Angela can do without.
Seems Fran's return opened a portal between Angela and the other side and ghosts are hitting up the reluctant psychic medium for help. From the naked British guy juggling balls in the coffee shop parking lot to the woman desperately trying to save her sick child, Angela must find a way to balance her own life with the unfinished business of the dead.
Unbreakable Bonds An Angela Panther Mystery
"Be careful what you wish for because karma has a way of biting you in the butt." That's what Angela Panther's mother always said.
And boy was she was right.
When Angela first discovered her gift to gab with ghosts, she fought it tooth and nail. But the second she decided it wasn't so bad, tragedy hit and the universe decided to teach her a lesson.
Now she's unable to chat with the other side and is crying out for a re-do.
When her best friend Mel suspects her husband of cheating, she asks Angela to help her prove it. They concoct the perfect plan to get the goods on him, but to make it work they'll need help from Angela's mother, Fran.
There's just one tiny little problem--Fran's dead.
As the two best friends set out on a cheater-catching adventure, they hope Fran can use her celestial super powers to help, and prove that the bond between those who've crossed over with the ones they've left behind is never broken.
In UNBREAKABLE BONDS, AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY, AMAZON and Barnes & Noble bestselling author Carolyn Ridder Aspenson’s snarky dialog and hilarious banter between psychic medium Angela and her best friend Mel will leave you laughing in tears, and the touching scenes between the living dead will tug at your heart strings.
Uncharted Territory, An Angela Panther Mystery
A Five-Star Rated Mystery!
Suburban housewife Angela Panther didn't want to communicate with the dead, but the universe had other plans...
When an unidentified fourteen-year-old boy takes a dive off an interstate overpass, to solve the case, Atlanta area detective Aaron Banner calls on some unlikely help—from psychic medium Angela Panther. Banner knows she's legit, and knows she'll get to the truth about his junior John Doe—was the boy's death suicide, or murder? The problem is, the spirit can't remember who he was or the night he died, and to make matters worse, he doesn't care. Instead, he convinces Angela to focus on another spirit, one different from Angela's usual, garden-variety ghost.
To complicate matters, Angela's best friend Mel, newly single and on the prowl, has her sights set on the sexy Detective Banner, and Angela's mother drives her even more crazy dead than alive.
To solve the dead duo's dilemmas, armed with little more than their double lattés and a tiny pink bottle of wannabe pepper spray, Angela and her sex-starved sidekick Mel must venture into the dark underbelly of Atlanta and come face-to-face with a gang of saggy-pantsed hoodlums ready to take them out. Will they make it out alive, or end up pushing up daisies alongside the spirits they're trying to help?
In UNCHARTED TERRITORY, AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY, Carolyn Ridder Aspenson's witty dialog between psychic medium Angela Panther and her best friend, Mel will keep you laughing out loud, while the tear-jerking scenes between the living and dead will leave you hoping the connection with those we love is never lost.
To be notified of future releases and receive a free copy of Carolyn's holiday novella, Santa's Gift, A Cumming Christmas Novella, visit
http://carolynridderaspenson.com
Reviews mean a lot to indie authors like me. If you’ve enjoyed this book, please help me out by leaving a review
here
The Christmas Elf Page 4
