Love under the Lights (Whole Lotta Love #3)

by Sahara Kelly

  Crunching down on a piece of pizza crust, she leaned over and nudged him. “Your turn.”

  Paul smiled as he reached over to the side table and with the air of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat produced—a blank DVD case. “Ta da.”

  “Uh…honey? Isn’t there supposed to be a picture or something on the cover?”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “There will be. But you were in such a hurry to see the damn thing I had to swipe this off the pre-sale pile. They’ll label them before distribution.”

  “Ahh.” Toni looked suitably impressed. “It’s nice the way you teach me things.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He reached for the remote. “You want popcorn now? Or shall we wait?”

  “Let’s wait for a bit. I’m good with the pizza for now.”

  “Okay.” Paul turned on his TV, the surround system, the DVD player and all the other associated electronic gizmos that a twenty-first century man needs to watch television with one elegant flourish of his phone.

  Toni settled in next to him, nursing her beer. “This is cool.”

  He put his arm around her. “Yep. A new movie on a big screen TV, my girl next to me, beer and pizza. What more can a guy ask for?”

  They leaned back together as the movie began.

  “What’s that?” Toni nodded at the odd frame references appearing one after another.

  “The cues for the coming attractions. They’ll be added to the commercial release.”

  “Oh.” She nodded. “Okay.”

  “Er, Toni?”

  “What?”

  “If you keep your hand there, the attractions aren’t going to be the only things coming—“

  The music swelled, muffling Toni’s giggle and the sound of a zipper being lowered. Her head dipped downward. “Mmm. I sure hope you’re right…”

  And that’s where we’ll leave Toni and Paul, happy and focused on their future—among other things. Which is just as it should be. They found a whole lotta love, even when they weren’t looking for it—just like the other couples in this series.

  Since that was a really sweet segue into mention of the other two books, here’s where you get a peek at them, so that if, by chance, you haven’t read them yet, you’ll be lured into immediately rushing over to Amazon.com, activating your “One-click” (because…well, you know. Amazon) and picking up both stories.

  We really hope you enjoy them!

  EXCERPT

  -

  LOVE IN THE CARDS

  S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly

  “Hit me.”

  It occurred to Maggie French that a casino was one of the few places in the world where a woman could say those words and not worry about the results. She rested her arms on the leather edge of the blackjack table and watched as the dealer flipped two cards onto the pair of eights she’d doubled down.

  “Lookin’ good.” The man grinned at her, showing white teeth beneath a dark moustache.

  A ten and a four. Not bad. Her brain whirred through the possibilities as she sipped her soda casually.

  She’d stand on the eighteen. She tapped the four with a short, unvarnished fingernail and was rewarded for her patience with a nine. Niiiice.

  Now all she had to do was wait until the other three players had made their calls, see what the dealer drew, and with any luck she’d be up a couple hundred dollars more.

  He turned the cards with ease, his large hands caressing the little squares of cardboard with consummate skill. His nametag said “Donnie”, but his short haircut screamed military, as did the unwavering confidence and control he radiated from behind the table.

  She fidgeted a little on her chair. Too much soda along with an earlier margarita filled her bladder, and those enchiladas she’d had for lunch were making their presence known by bubbling in her ass. She squeezed her butt tight against a fart, crossed her legs to hold in her kidneys and figured she probably looked like an accordion being squished by an enthusiastic amateur musician.

  But these inconveniences were minor and she put them out of her mind. Because Maggie French was, before anything else, a gambler.

  Not that anyone would know it to look at her—no indeed. A quietly dressed woman in clean blue jeans, white shirt unbuttoned over a pale blue tank top and minimal jewelry. Her brunette hair wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and her makeup little more than a dash of lipstick, some mascara and the inevitable moisturizer. It could be desert dry at times, so she indulged in a good brand every now and again. But that was as far as she went. She blended in with the general rabble thronging the tables and that was just the way she liked it.

  She laughed and cheered with the rest of the table when the dealer bust out, scooping up her chips with all the enthusiasm of a suburban housewife on bingo night. And truthfully, it was a thrill. Small potatoes, a couple of fifty dollar chips and four twenty-five dollar ones, but it was a win.

  And winning was what it was all about.

  Whether at Trivial Pursuit—she was good at it unless the category was “sports”— Monopoly, which she occasionally lost unless she had all four railroad stations, thumb wars or any card game ever invented, Maggie played to win.

  When she’d discovered poker, Maggie discovered heaven. The cards seemed to fit her hands perfectly, her mind grasped the concepts with the instant familiarity of an old friend and she loved the shapes and colors that danced from the deck.

  And that was why she was sitting in the casino of the Last Resort, holding in several bodily functions, and exchanging grins with a seventy-year-old grandmother who’d probably just doubled her Social Security check for the week.

  Maggie was going to win the poker championship and go home with half a million dollars.

  There wasn’t a doubt in her mind.

  “Lady, you’ve either just hit a big jackpot or you’ve gotta pee real bad.” An amused voice sounded from behind her and Maggie turned in surprise to find herself face-to-chest with a patron of the casino who’d been standing at her back during the last hand.

  And fuck it, he was too damn observant. She relaxed a little. He wouldn’t have a clue who she was. “Nice guess, Mister. I really do need the little girls’ room.” She glanced back at the dealer and nodded her thanks, tossing a chip across the table and sliding off the stool.

  “Hey, Miss.” Donnie was pushing something across the table. “Here. Enjoy a drink on the house. Tell the bartender I comped you.”

  “I—well, thanks. Thanks, Donnie. That’s very kind of you.” Maggie picked up the chit.

  “My pleasure. You’ve got a nice smile.”

  “Don’t I have a nice smile?” The older guy a couple of seats away from Maggie whined plaintively.

  “You, sir, have a blackjack. That’s even better.” Donnie the dealer went back to his game and Maggie moved away.

  Blocking her from leaving, the stranger stood motionless. “You ever see Niagara Falls? The water just runs on and on. Sort of like a dripping faucet. You know…drip, trickle, drip. Always made me feel like going to the bathroom myself.” He had a shit-eating grin on his face, watching her squirm. “Oh sorry. Am I in your way?”

  “Another verse of ‘Singin’ In The Rain’ and we’ll have golden showers, so move.”

  “Well, when you’re done, you want to fill up again by having a drink with me?”

  She sized him up. Not too tall, but clean-shaven and with shiny brown hair that was a tad longer than it needed to be, something that Maggie found appealing. He was flashing her a nice smile, wearing tidy clothes…he looked about as threatening as a happy golden retriever. Awww…what the hell. He might try to hump her leg but he seemed harmless. They were in a public place, surrounded by crowds of gamblers and in all likelihood there was more security than at the White House. A drink couldn’t hurt, right? She needed something to take the edge off before tomorrow’s game began.

  “That sounds good. Thanks. I’ll meet you at the bar?”

  “Sure.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You
gonna run out on me? It’s not like we’ve been introduced or anything. And it’s just a drink. We can wait to pick out curtains in the morning.”

  The challenge in his words and the teasing expression got to her and she smiled back. “Nope. My name’s Maggie and I’m not running out. I’m going to pee and then I’ll be back. Okay?”

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  Shit. He’s got a helluva cute smile.

  “And wash your hands, Maggie.” He looked sternly at her.

  She couldn’t help it. She laughed. What a cute idiot. And then hurried off before the silent fart that finally escaped made its presence known.

  Buy LOVE IN THE CARDS for your Kindle/Kindle reader app or with your Kindle Unlimited membership HERE.

  And of course you’re going to want to make sure you don’t miss LOVE ON THE ROAD. Because everyone needs to know that one day a road trip might turn out to be the most amazing adventure you’ve ever had…

  Here’s an excerpt to whet your appetite and make you want to head out and gas up the Chevy…

  EXCERPT

  LOVE ON THE ROAD

  –

  S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly

  Steve contemplated a second cup of the flavored battery acid that passed for coffee in the small diner. He figured a trucker could probably go coast-to-coast without sleeping after four cups of this stuff, but what the fuck. It was hot, the burger had satisfied his hunger and he’d emptied his bladder.

  Relatively at peace, he looked up as the door opened and what might have been a woman in a previous life staggered over the threshold. She was soaked through, her light jacket no protection from the miserable storm that sent a rattling batch of sleet gusting through the door behind her. She sprinkled water from her sopping skirt, and God only knew what color her hair was, since at the moment it resembled some sort of animal that had crawled onto her head and died, leaving matted locks trailing down either side of her face.

  Her skin was blue-white with cold, even her lips were colorless, and they certainly weren’t smiling as she squelched across to the counter and asked for a phone.

  The elderly waitress motioned to an alcove, and Steve idly watched as the woman made her way to the nook. He looked down, hiding a smile as she fumbled through change, plugged in quarters, thumped the phone and finally threw it down with an expletive that could have melted the slush within a twenty-yard radius of the diner.

  “Excuse me…” she called over to the waitress. “This phone… I can’t get a dial tone.”

  The woman raised one eyebrow. “You asked me where the phone was. Didn’t ask me if it worked.”

  Steve watched Miss Iceberg’s chest rise and fall as she struggled with her temper. “Okay.” She swallowed. Hard. “So…does it now, or has it ever, worked?”

  “Nope. And yes, I think.”

  “Good. We’re getting someplace. Stay with me here. This phone is now not working. You got one that does? My car’s broken down and I have to call a garage or something.”

  The waitress reached behind her and picked up the receiver of an old dial phone. She held it to her ear and listened for a minute, then replaced it. She looked across the counter, as if considering her next words.

  Steve wanted to laugh real bad, even though he knew he shouldn’t. If he’d ever seen a woman getting so pissed off she was about to explode, this was the one.

  “Sorry. Line’s dead. Happens a lot in bad weather.”

  Any minute now, she’s gonna blow.

  Unfortunately for Steve, she didn’t blow. She noticed him.

  Uh-oh.

  He was the only customer in the place, so it wasn’t really surprising that her gaze fixed on him with all the determination of a vulture about to strip the flesh from the carcass of fresh roadkill. He was male, and clearly in her mind possessed the requisite hormones to assist her out of her difficulties.

  She moved towards him, her sneakers still squishing on the tiled floor. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but then again, neither was she.

  “Excuse me, would you have a cell phone on you? Or perhaps know anything about cars?”

  “Sorry, no signal here for the cellphone and I don’t know much more about cars than the basics.” Steve took another sip of his coffee and kept his eyes lowered.

  She sighed and dripped on the floor leaving a puddle, her expression speaking for her. All the cute ones are stupid. “Well? Are you going to ask me to sit down?”

  Steve’s gaze had drifted to her wet clothes. He was a little distracted. “Uh, yeah. Would you like to sit down?”

  “Actually, no. I want to get my piece of shit car running so I can get out of this armpit.” She slid into the booth and sat down with a splat.

  Stretching her arms apart and setting them on the back of the bench seat, she laid her head back and groaned. Her jacket fell open revealing an almost transparent white shirt.

  Steve’s jaw dropped a little, and he drooled a small stream of coffee from one side of his mouth. No bra, good God, calm, mellow, keep it together, ignore the voice in your pants. “It must be getting really cold outside.” Steve said what his inner voice was thinking. As usual.

  “You think? Of course it’s cold. My feet are frozen, I reckon I’ve probably got frostbite on my ears, and damn—every frickin’ body part is icy…look.”

  “Already am.” Steve was busted, and she definitely wasn’t flat-busted.

  The air between them changed, and something electric arced across the stained table. A tension appeared that hadn’t been there moments before. Her abrupt and direct approach to Steve was a surprisingly perfect match for his lack of politeness.

  He wasn’t going to let another woman take control of him. He’d learned his lesson the hard way.

  He sighed as she noticed the rest room and excused herself, squishing off in that direction. She’d be back. He knew it.

  Buy LOVE ON THE ROAD for your Kindle/Kindle reader app or with your Kindle Unlimited membership HERE.

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly began their writing collaboration going on fifteen years ago. It was unexpected, since they live about as far away from each other as it’s possible to get in the USA without getting your feet wet. But it worked.

  Since then, they’ve explored a wide and colorful variety of subjects, and written stories that entertain, amuse, and sometimes astound their readers. One thing will always be a part of their writing—that touch of humor. Sometimes unexpected, sometimes blatant, both Scott. and Sahara believe that laughter is essential, especially when it comes to sex. Because sex is, without a doubt, one of the funniest activities humans engage in on a regular basis. If one excludes salmon tossing, of course. If you’d like to find out a bit more about these two strangely charming and absurdly attractive people (one of whom is writing this paragraph) then you can check the websites below and satisfy your curiosity about their books.

  Sahara suggests you subscribe to her newsletter. It’s available without charge, and free is always good. Plus she won’t pepper your inbox with incessant political opinions, recipes or pictures of their cats. (Link below). And it’s worth noting that if you enjoyed the stories you just read, you’ll absolutely want to follow these two authors on Amazon, since they are currently at work on more fun projects, and you don’t want to miss the latest news or release schedules, do you? We didn’t think so!

  Website: S.L. Carpenter

  Where you can find out more about S.L. Carpenter, his books, his art and his off-the-wall observations on life, baseball and rubber chickens. (The fundamental components of happiness—as we all know so well.) He has quite a few single titles available and encourages you to check them out if you haven’t already.

  You may subscribe to Scott’s Amazon Page here and his author page on Facebook here. Both good places to keep up with his slightly twisted and funny look at life!

  Website: Sahara Kelly

  This is where Sahara Kelly shares none of the intimate details of her life
, but will present you with a list of books she’d like you to buy so that she can go do research on a beach in Aruba and be pampered with massages and drinks with umbrellas in them. She’ll send you a postcard. Thank you.

  You can get on Sahara’s newsletter list here and see what she’s blogging about here. It usually has nothing to do with her books. Refreshing, huh? Oh, and don’t forget to follow her at Amazon.com here.

  ALSO BY S.L. CARPENTER AND SAHARA KELLY

  Whole Lotta Love Series

  Love In the Cards

  Love on the Road

  Love under the Lights

  Happy Endings Anthology

  Feels So Right Anthology

  So Into You

  The Working Stiffs Series

  Hired Help

  Open House

  Full Service

  Suite 69

  Showing Off

  (As a postscript, both authors would like you to know that they are currently reviewing, re-editing and re-releasing more of their older books to which they have now retrieved their rights. So if you have read some of these earlier stories and can’t find them, please be patient? Many stories from the early days need a bit of updating – pagers and Walkmen anyone? – along with editing for a new generation of readers. Thanks and Happy Reading from Scott and Sahara.)

  And as a final note (we promise) Scott and Sahara would like to mention that they are now co-owners of a slightly different kind of venture, blending another of their shared passions— art. If you’re interested in seeing what they get up to when they’re not writing something twistedly hot and sexy, they’d like to invite you to come visit their little Art for Authors and Others business at the link below. It’s been going for nearly five years now and both of them are thrilled with the new friends they’ve made and the great covers now out there from their company. They’re certainly never bored…