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Hungry Mountain Man

Page 38

by Charlize Starr


  “Lesley . . . ” he said and I looked up at him again. He moved his hands up, clasping them on both sides of my face. He was staring deep into my eyes as he spoke. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks. It doesn’t matter if she never wants to speak to me again because you and Alfie are all that matter to me now,” he said. I flung myself into him, sinking into his arms and the scent of him. He held me tightly and kissed the top of my head, and I was smiling again.

  Over his shoulder, I looked at Alfie, who was standing up from the floor now. His face was still flushed with excitement. I winked at him, and he winked back, and we fell into a fit of giggles that confused Connor. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed like this.

  Epilogue - Lesley

  My dad knocked on the door. I was sitting in front of the mirror in the bedroom that Connor and I had been sharing these past ten months. Tony’s new girlfriend, Shania, had done my hair and it looked beautiful: a gorgeous up-do in waves with tiny pearls pinned to the back of my bun.

  Dad entered the bedroom when I turned around on the stool. He had a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands and I thought I saw a tear in his eyes.

  “I thought I’d pick some flowers for you today, honey,” he said and I stood up with a smile. His eyes glowed when he saw me for the first time in my wedding dress. It was a simple white with a half veil over my face and a trail that was long and dreamy. Chris’s two nieces were responsible for carrying it for me. They’d been practicing all week.

  “Thank you, Dad,” I smiled at him and he came towards me to wrap me into his arms. I sensed him crying as he held me.

  “You look beautiful, honey. I know Connor knows how lucky he is,” he said when he was finally ready to pull away from me.

  “He tells me every day,” I said and kissed him lightly on his cheek.

  He gave me his arm and I clung to him and, in silence, we walked out of the bedroom and down the steps of the house towards the front door, where I knew everyone would be waiting for us.

  At the open front door, Dad stopped in his tracks and I stopped with him. “I know I was against this relationship in the beginning,” he said and I looked at him kindly.

  “I understand, dad. You couldn’t forgive him for what he had done to you and us,” I told him and my dad let out a deep sigh.

  “Yes, but I was wrong. What he did all those years ago has nothing to do with how much he loves you. I’ve forgiven him, Lesley . . . I couldn’t be happier with the man you’ve chosen to marry,” he said and I squeezed his hand.

  “Thank you, dad,” I said and we smiled at each other.

  “Now, let's go. Your groom is waiting for his bride,” he said. Together, we stepped out of the house.

  The ranch looked beautiful and when I saw it for the first that day: decorated and lit up with fairy lights, the row of white rib boned chairs facing the barn, the trees wrapped in lights and decorated with hanging lanterns . . . It all took my breath away.

  At the end of the aisle, in front of the bar, Connor was standing in a tuxedo. Clean shaven with his dirty blond hair slicked back, he had never looked more handsome. Not even in my teenage fantasies. The piano played the wedding song as dad carried me down the aisle. Everyone had stood up, and my eyes fell on the front row where my mom was standing proudly beside Mrs. Marshall. I was surprised to see her there. Connor had predicted that she would not show up. She had been vehemently against Connor marrying me when she had found out. In her opinion, her beloved son was marrying beneath him. Now, she was sporting a crooked smile and clapping with everyone else.

  I looked back at the man I was going to marry. The air smelled of wildflowers and fresh grass – just like the bouquet in my hands that my father had picked out for me. Connor was staring at me with a smile on his face that reached his eyes. He looked like he was seeing me for the first time.

  With each step I took, I was drawing closer to my destiny and I couldn’t wait for it to begin. I had never been happier since the day I came back here to the ranch. Since we had begun our life together.

  Alfie was standing beside his father in a matching tuxedo of his own. He had our rings in a small wicker basket dangling from his hand, and I could see it on his face: he couldn’t wait to give it to us. I smiled at him and he beamed at me with joy.

  My dad and I stopped a few feet away from Connor, and he leaned in to kiss me on my cheek.

  “Best wishes to you, my darling daughter,” he said. Then, still in a daze, I felt Connor’s hand clasp mine. My father had given me away to him. I turned to the man of my dreams.

  “You are the most beautiful bride . . . The most beautiful woman in the world, my Lesley,” Connor said loud enough for everyone to hear. My cheeks flushed but Connor had eyes only for me.

  He pulled me to him and I gasped, my hand settled on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be kissing me now, not before the ceremony,” I said and some of our guests giggled and clapped. Connor’s eyes sank into mine, as he held me close for the entire world to see.

  “Don’t worry, darling. I’m not going to kiss you now. I just wanted to look more closely at my bride,” he said and released me with a victorious smile on his face.

  Our guests sighed and clapped, and Connor clasped my hand in his as we turned to face the priest.

  I couldn’t stop smiling as I heard the priest reading out our promises and vows. I couldn’t stop my heart from beating out of my chest. Finally, everything I had ever wished for was coming true. I was marrying the man I loved.

  *****

  THE END

  Hit by the Football Player

  Description

  An inexperienced nerdy girl PLUS a bad boy football player PLUS an indecent payment proposal!

  Margie Wilson is happy being a nerd. It means she always tops her class and is headed towards a high-paying job. Now that college is nearing its end, her life is turning out as she planned it. What she hadn’t planned on, however, was Lance Healy.

  Dreamy eyed Lance Healy is known around campus as the bad boy. He is a football star on the college team, flexes his muscles as often as he breathes and has more women throwing themselves at him than Margie even knew existed. Lance needs her help, though. He isn’t prepared for the upcoming tests that’ll decide whether he gets to keep his sports scholarship or gets chucked out of college and loses his shot at making National League.

  Margie agrees to tutor him. Who wouldn’t? She never thought she’d ever meet him face-to-face, let alone spend so much time so close to him.

  Lance, however, seems to believe in give and take. He owes Margie a favor now and believes she deserves payment. There is only one way he knows to repay favors to girls, but Margie has never gone that far with anybody before. It’s certainly not what she signed up for. But how can she resist Lance Healy? Especially when she doesn’t know his plans.

  Chapter One

  Margie was the last one in the library again, for the third evening in a row. She looked around her and saw Mrs. Brown, the librarian, glaring at her from over the top of her small, square spectacles. Margie mouthed the word ‘sorry’, then quickly collected all the books from the table and deposited them into her backpack before standing up. She knew she was going to ace the exam, but she had nothing else to do.

  “I promise I’ll keep an eye on the clock tomorrow,” Margie said, with the widest smile she could manage, as she headed out past Mrs. Brown.

  The corridors of the building were all empty as Margie walked down towards the large front doors. She could hear the rubber soles of her canvas shoes squeak as she walked. Dinner was on her mind, although she hadn’t even realized she was hungry until now.

  Her hands were on the door when it was suddenly pushed towards her, and she felt a tall, hard body slam into her. Margie’s backpack, which she was carrying on one shoulder, went flying and she felt a rough thud as her back hit the wall.

  “Oh, shit!” She heard a voice as she blinked her eyes open.

  “Are you okay? Shit, shit.”
The voice continued. Rough hands pulled her back up and her eyes finally adjusted to normal vision. Her own hands were placed on Lance Healy’s chest. She had unknowingly placed them there for support, but now she pulled them away in fright.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” he asked her again, and Margie managed to nod this time. She watched tongue-tied as he bent forward to pick up her bag from the floor and then stretched out his arm towards her. She noticed the way the muscles on his arms, peeping out from underneath the cotton half-sleeves of his T-shirt, flexed. She had never seen him this close before.

  “Is the library still open?” he asked, seemingly unaware of the physical effect he had on Margie. She couldn’t find her voice, her throat had closed up. She shook her head while watching him, studying him closely so she could embed that image of him in her brain. The sharp clean jaw, thick pink lips, the way his chocolate-brown hair fell over his forehead and eyelashes.

  “Aw, damn!” Lance cursed some more, his hands flying to his hair. He was running his fingers through it and Margie could feel herself going weak in the knees.

  “Why? What do you need?” she heard herself ask, surprising even herself by the sudden voice she had found. Lance looked at her, his large green eyes focusing on her face as he spoke.

  “I needed some books for a test. I’m so not prepared for it.” He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “The economics test coming up next week?” Margie asked, in a low squeaky voice, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. She couldn’t look at him directly; her gaze kept falling to the ground.

  “Yeah, exactly. Are you in my class?” Lance’s eyes lit up and Margie blushed. She was instantly embarrassed by the fact that he didn’t even know she existed. She nodded nonetheless and he stretched out his hand again.

  “Lance,” he said, with a grin that showed his straight line of perfectly white teeth.

  “Margie,” she said, blushing a bright red. She shook his hand nervously, noticing his grip, which was strong and tight. His hands felt rough and soft at the same time, sending tingles down her spine. She nearly giggled.

  “Hi, Margie. I’m such a doofus. I don’t know what I’m going to do for the test.” Lance was grinning still as he shook her hand. He was the one who eventually pulled his hand away. Margie didn’t know when to stop shaking it. She knew she was blushing still.

  “I have a few books here with me if you want to borrow them?” She started unzipping her bag and pulling out some of the books, which she already knew by heart. She started handing them over to Lance one at a time. He was laughing.

  “You just carry these books around in your backpack all day?” he asked, and Margie blushed again. She wasn’t sure if he was making fun of her or just being friendly. He didn’t sound unfriendly, which was a very strange experience for her. Usually, Lance Healy, when he wasn’t winning football games for the college team, was attending frat parties and missing classes. It was no surprise that he didn't know who she was.

  “So, you seem to be well prepared for the test already,” he added, cluelessly looking through the pages of some of the books in his hands. Margie was smiling silently at him, her confidence in looking at him directly growing.

  “I’ve been studying for it for a while now,” she said, noticing now the way the thin material of his T-shirt stretched across the vast expanse of his chest. She couldn’t believe she had touched it. Lance Healy’s chest!

  “Jeez. I haven’t even started yet. Do you mind if I borrow some of these books?” he asked, and Margie nodded.

  “Go ahead. I don’t need them anymore. You can keep them for as long as you like.” She was smiling widely, still in a sort of daze.

  “I wouldn’t know where to start. But thanks anyway,” he said, staring blankly at the books in his hands. Margie hesitated before she said anything, looking for the right words. Her fingers kept knotting themselves together, and she could feel her stomach churning. She had to get it right.

  “I could help you out if you like. With the tutoring. I mean, I could help you to get started. To study. For the test.” She wasn’t sure what she was saying, or if any of it even made sense. But the look of confusion on Lance’s face gave way to delight. His face lit up again, the same boyish grin returning. How could his face possibly be this perfect?

  “That’ll be great, Margie. Are you sure you have the time?” He had a polite, courteous voice and Margie could feel her knees going weak. She had never expected to speak to Lance, let alone for him to speak to her this way. She bit down on her lip and nodded again.

  “Of course, yes sure. We can get started whenever you want.” Margie could feel herself bursting to giggle again. She had to take short, quick, deep breaths to calm herself whenever he looked away from her.

  “Tomorrow? This looks like I have a lot of catching up to do.” Lance sighed, looking back at the books, but smiled at her nonetheless.

  “Cool. We can meet in the library tomorrow at five?” Her mind was racing as she spoke. She couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Whatever the instigation behind him planning on meeting her the next day, there were plans being made! How many girls would kill to be in her position?

  “That sounds good to me. Tomorrow at five.” Lance stretched the books back towards her and Margie stared at them, confused.

  “Trust me. I won’t be flipping through one page by myself. They’re better left with you. You are responsible for my tutoring now,” he said with a wink, and Margie couldn’t help it anymore. She laughed loudly, a sharp, loud giggle. She couldn’t believe any of it. That he had told her she was responsible for him. That he had winked. That they had plans to meet the next day.

  “Wow. You have an interesting laugh,” Lance said and grinned at her again. Margie instantly felt self-conscious at that. She covered her mouth with a hand and used the other to take back the books from him.

  “Sorry. Yes, I’ll keep them safe for you,” she said.

  “Until tomorrow,” Lance added, and she stared back at him, a little shocked. The information still hadn’t sunk in.

  “Bye, Margie,” he said suddenly and interrupted her thoughts. She was dumbfounded again.

  “Erm…bye,” she managed to squeak, as Lance began to walk away. He winked at her again, threw her a grin and then pushed open the doors and walked out.

  Margie remained standing where she was, blinking at the closed doors in front of her and still clutching the books in her hands. What had just happened? Did she just secure a date with the hottest guy in college? Did he wink at her? Twice?!

  She hurriedly put the books back in her bag and ran out of the building. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. It had started to grow dark, and Margie rushed towards her dorm building.

  She’d forgotten about dinner, didn’t care about the fact that she had barely eaten anything that day. She needed some time and space to wrap all of this around her brain.

  When she entered her room, her roommate Claire was sitting on her bed painting her toenails.

  “Claire! You will not believe what just happened!” Margie flung her backpack on her own bed and sat down with a thump at the end of Claire’s bed.

  “What? Did you ace your test? That isn’t a surprise, Margie.” Claire hadn’t looked up at her yet.

  “The test isn’t until next week. So, no. Lance Healy wants me to tutor him for the test.” Margie clapped her hands and that was when Claire looked up. Her brows were creased, and she looked confused.

  “Lance, like the Lance Healy?” Claire had stopped coating her toenails with polish.

  “The one and only. I bumped into him in the library. He needs help with the preparation.” Margie bit down on her lip, the excitement on her face plain to see.

  “Are you serious? What was Lance Healy doing in a library? How does he even know where the library is?” Claire tightened the cap on the bottle of polish and set it aside. She didn’t seem to be as excited as Margie was.

  “He needed books for the test. Anyway, how cr
azy is this? I’m meeting him tomorrow at five,” Margie said, and finally Claire smiled.

  “So you have, like, a date with Lance Healy?” Claire raised her eyebrows and Margie rolled her eyes.

  “Hardly a date, Claire. We’re just going to be discussing economics and I’ll try and help him pass the test.” Margie stood up from the bed and started pacing the floor, her hands behind her back. She couldn’t sit down, but she didn’t want to remain standing. Her heart was still racing.

  “Why are you panicking then?” Claire asked, following Margie around the room with her eyes.

  “Because it’s Lance Healy? I can’t spend two minutes in his presence without breaking into giggles. He has the most beautiful eyes. Also, he’s very polite.” Margie was talking more to herself than Claire.

  “That’s because he wants something, Margie. When have you ever seen Lance Healy being polite to anybody?” Claire was rolling her eyes and Margie stopped in her tracks to study her friend.

  “When have we ever spoken to him, to know what he’s like in person?” Margie asked, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Exactly. And you’re speaking to him now because he wants something,” Claire said, sitting back on her bed.

  “I offered him the help. He didn’t ask for it.” Margie crossed her arms on her chest now. She couldn’t understand why Claire wasn’t more excited. She knew exactly how Margie felt about him. He was her on-campus celebrity crush and this was going to be just a harmless experience.

  “All I’m saying is that Lance Healy is a certain type of boy. And you’re a naïve, inexperienced girl who could really get hurt by him.” Claire spoke softly, like she was talking to a child and trying to explain why Margie couldn’t have candy.

 

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