Return to Cupid, Texas
A collection of three stories
By Sylvia McDaniel
Carol Rose
Kathy Shaw
First Edition, 2012
Copyright 2012 by Sylvia McDaniel, Carol Rose & Kathy Shaw
Published by Virtual Bookseller, LLC
Cover by Joleene Naylor.
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Contents:
Samples
Cupid’s Revenge by Sylvia McDaniel
Resisting Cupid by Carol Rose
True Love Wears a Tutu by Kathy Shaw
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Samples:
Cupid's Revenge
by Sylvia McDaniel (Sample)
Entering the city limits of Cupid, Texas for the first time in ten years was like going to the dentist for a root canal. Painful and numbing. But Skye Brand wouldn’t miss the Valentine Day wedding of her close friend, Michelle, though the event would be a happy occasion sprinkled with intermittent, agonizing remembrances of Zane Calhoun.
Michelle had informed her Zane was a groomsman in the wedding. Single and still hated Skye.
She glanced over in the car at her long-haired dachshund, Putz, who sat in his carrier, watching her drive. “It’s just you and me, buddy. We don’t need a man in our life.”
Putz tilted his head and gazed at her with his beady brown eyes, trying to understand, gazing at her with unconditional love. Dogs were so easy compared to men. Food, water and love, and they were yours for life.
Skye stopped at the town's only stop light. A sign said High School State Football Champions and listed the years the local team reigned supreme in the state of Texas. Zane had played defensive end their senior year when they won State. The memory of that night felt like it happened yesterday. Yeap, this weekend would be like every dental nightmare all wrapped up in white wedding cake.
The only thing that would make this homecoming worse was running into Zane Calhoun, the love she'd left behind for his own good.
(Read the complete story below)
*****
Resisting Cupid
by Carol Rose(Sample)
Even after ten years, Tucker looked good enough to eat.
Leaning against the piano on the church dais, he laughed with a guy Emma recognized as a friend of his from high school, while she quietly had a heart attack at the church door.
The rows of empty pews between them seemed to telescope and she made herself take a deep breath.
Dammit, this shouldn’t be so difficult. So what if they’d been married to one another for four months and had decidedly hot carnal knowledge of one another? Up against her daddy’s old pick-up, at the stock tank, behind the drive-in where she’d worked in high school. And lots and lots of hot nights in the full-sized bed in their tiny apartment.
She needed to kill this ache for him, needed to make herself move on and stop breathing funny whenever she thought about her ex-husband.
Emma took another shuddery breath, trying not to remember. Not to turn tail and run. As her reporter friend, Allison, had reminded her, she was an adult, a TV news correspondent, for heaven’s sake. She could handle this.
Pirates in Somali, riots in London and Christmas at the Mall of America.
She’d been all over the place and she sure wished she were anywhere else right now. Anywhere she didn’t have to face him, the one guy who always made her feel loved and desired…until he made her crazy.
Only because Michelle had been her best friend since third grade had she returned to Cupid, Texas. A wedding on Valentine’s Day no less. What the heck was Michelle thinking, asking her to come back now?
When Emma had heard that she’d have to spend the special lovers’ day with her ex-husband, she’d nearly cried.
Pausing just inside the chapel, Emma knew she needed to plunge ahead. The man she’d married at eighteen might be Michelle’s groom’s best-man, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be supportive of her best friend. She’d waffled on it back and forth, telling Michelle that she couldn’t get away from her hectic job at the network. But her friend’s tears had decided Emma. She had to do this. Deserting her childhood friend at this pivotal moment wasn’t really an option.
Surely the ten years that had passed since her leaving Cupid, Texas, would provide enough of a buffer. Tucker had probably married by now and popped out three kids. She had nothing to worry about. Really.
Just her own stupid heart that had refused to let go, that held on still to the memory of his smile, the sound of his voice.
For a brief moment, she wished she hadn’t been so adamant about not hearing anything regarding Tucker. At least she’d have known what she was heading into. She’d thought not knowing about his life would make things easier. Now she was heading blindly into the situation.
Shifting her focus to the scene at the end of the aisle, Emma lifted her chin and walked as casually as she could down to the altar.
Michelle and Ryan, her groom and Tucker’s step-brother, stood under the altar lights, deep in conversation with a rattled women who seemed to be in charge of the chaos. People milled around, chatting in small knots and generally acting as if they had no other agenda besides socializing. Emma counted six people she knew and several she thought she ought to have recognized, but didn’t.
“Well, there she is.” From next to the piano, Tucker’s drawl jolted down to the soles of her feet and rubbed up against Emma’s spine. Even after all these years, the familiarity set her heart to pounding even harder. “Little Missy all grown up and wearing her television reporter shoes.”
Emma mounted the three shallow steps at the end of the aisle, trying to ignore him after glancing over to where he lazed against the piano. Instead of responding to his softly mocking statement, she touched Michelle on the shoulder.
“Emma! You’re here! Oh, thank God!” Her friend grabbed her and hugged hard.
“Hey.” She responded softly, patting Michelle’s back. “Of course I’m here. I told you I’d get here in time for the rehearsal.”
“What,” Tucker’s voice came from right behind her, “too good to hug an old friend from your childhood days?”
Disentangling herself from her friend’s embrace, Emma turned.
Tucker held out his arms, a smile on his handsome face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Give daddy some sugar now.”
“You’re not my daddy and stop talking like a character from ‘Cat On A Hot Tin Roof’.” Her words came out sharper than she meant them to and she tried to make up for this by throwing Tucker a fake smile to take some of the sting out. After all, she and Tucker needed to get through this weekend without bloodshed, if possible.
He laughed then, the sound real and warm. “Hello, Emmie. How are you?”
They exchanged a small, brief side hug, as awkward as she felt.
“I’m fine, Tucker. How are you?”
Michelle laid a hand on her arm, smiling up at their friend. “It’s Doctor Tucker now. Dr. Tucker Anderson. He’s finished with his residency finally and set up shop here.”
She turned a little pink, offering the lie, “I’m sure I told you.”
Since the day Emma had left Cupid, she’d made sure Michelle understood she didn’t want to hear about Tucker. Not a word.
Leaving him was hard enough.
“Doctor?” Emma let out the strangled word. “You went to medical school?”
“You knew I always liked biology.” The lazy smile stayed on his face.
Michelle’s attention was re-captured by the wedding planner and she turned back to their conversation
.
“Yep, Dr. Anderson.” Tucker and Emma stood on the dais to the side. He lowered his voice to add, “I buried my broken heart in text books. It didn’t help when you kept popping up on newscasts by the time I was in medical school. Damned distracting.”
With a half-smile, she said, “Sorry. I’m sure you found lots of solace for your broken heart, what with medical school and all. Women love doctors.”
He didn’t deny her comment. She turned away gladly when the wedding coordinator called, appalled at her waspish statement.
“Over here, attendants!” the woman trilled. “Now, you’re all here, so we can start. And the clergyman? Okay, let’s run through where you’ll stand for the ceremony and then we’ll work on the march in, march out.”
For the next half hour, Emma stood where she was told and listened with half an ear while Michelle and Ryan conferred with the minister and the wedding coordinator. On the other side of the altar, Tucker looked to be waiting casually, but she felt his gaze on her throughout. Just like she’d felt him watching her in eleventh grade math class all those years ago. Just watching, his face unreadable, his dark eyes intent.
Even then, he’d been steamy sexy, rousing so much feminine interest amongst their classmates that Mr. Ponder put him in a seat at the front of the class, just to get the girls to look forward.
She’d been thrilled and gratified that Tucker had wanted to date her, that he’d seemed as aroused by her kisses as she’d been by his.
“Now here,” the wedding coordinator started. “When you march out after the bride and groom, make sure you wait for your partner. Here, you and you.”
She scurried around, matching them up. “Yes, the matron of honor and the best man walk out together.”
Emma sedately walked down the steps next to Tucker, acutely aware of him six inches away from her shoulder as they marched up the aisle. She could see him as a physician, caring for the sick and infirm. Unfortunately, her image of him in a white coat included him looking really hot with a sexy smile.
She mentally gave herself a shake. Not the way to think of a professional man and probable father of three. Certainly not the way to think about a man she needed to get cured of.
They marched out to the church foyer where the wedding coordinator sent the men in again to stand next to Ryan. “Now, ladies, it’s very important that you don’t rush down the aisle when you march in….”
Emma gave up listening, only attending with half her brain. She’d learned this from the sometimes tedious moments in broadcasting. Lots of waiting around for a very short few minutes of on-air time.
Eventually, the bridesmaids and Michelle marched in with that stutter-step that’s common to wedding entrances.
Feeling Tucker’s gaze on her, Emma tried to look as casual as she could. She took her place beside Michelle, hoping Tucker’s wife or current squeeze would be in attendance at the rehearsal dinner. She couldn’t take much more of him, particularly in a bar with alcohol flowing.
If she didn’t watch out, she’d find herself succumbing to the sexy heat of the very man she’d divorced ten years before
Damn him.
(Read the complete story below)
****
True Love Wears A Tutu
by Kathy Shaw(Sample)
What the hell had she been thinking?
When Carrie, Cupid High's drama teacher, had come running toward Tessa in a full-blown panic, she would have agreed to anything just to calm her co-worker down and avert everyone's attention away from them.
Tessa Somerset couldn't stand to be the center of attention—ever!
Now look at her. She was stuffed into a two-sizes too small ballerina costume, complete with a tutu stiff enough to support a stack of bricks. If she took even a half breath, her boobs would pop out over the bodice like a jack-in-the-box wound too tight.
Funny, the "fairy suit" hadn't been difficult to put on. But the moment the last hook snapped into place, the bright red material molded to her skin like she'd been shrink-wrapped in it. She could actually make out the indention of her belly-button just above the super-starched tutu.
And then there were the six-inch stiletto heels—that just happened to be a perfect fit, thank you very much—that accompanied the costume. They were probably considered lethal weapons in some states.
She looked more like a hooker fairy in search of a street corner than the Be-Mine fairy in this year’s Valentine play. Only a town named Cupid would have a Valentine Festival.
Tessa groaned again as she reached for the row of hooks and eyes running down her left side. She had to get out of these clothes!
There was no way in hell she was taking one step outside of the dressing room wearing this "Look-at-me! Look-at-me!" getup—much less strut across stage in front of a packed auditorium of ogling parents. Nope, Joyce was just going to have to find a replacement for her replacement.
Moments later, Tessa was still wrestling—without success—with the fastenings running down her side when Carrie rushed into the dressing room. "You're off the hook. The original fairy just showed up, in the real costume and ready to go on. Gotta go."
Thank God!
Tessa barely noticed Carrie leaving as waves of relief washed over her. She inhaled deeply, taking her first calm breath since she'd foolishly agreed to step into the MIA-fairy's slippers—or in this case, stilettos. But not too deeply, there was still the imminent threat of baring more than the obscene amount of cleavage already exposed.
Suddenly, the most important thing in her world was escaping the "fairy" suit. She needed to feel the comforting shelter of grays, browns and pale pastels.
She attacked the fasteners with renewed vigor.
*
Jack Dugan had a game plan—scoring with Tessa Somerset.
Actually, his game plan had a lot more to do with scouting than scoring. He wasn't just looking for a quick score. Tessa intrigued him on many levels.
Hence, the need for a game plan.
Of course, being the football coach, he knew getting a win took time and a multi-faceted strategy. Luckily, he was a patient man. At least, when it came to the sexy-as-hell English teacher, Ms. Somerset. He'd had his eye on her since the beginning of the school year. Now that football season was over, he intended to focus all his extra-curricular attention on Tessa.
He fully expected to have to drop back and punt once or twice during their interplay, but he knew before the final whistle blew on their game, he'd be victorious. Her goal-line defense didn't stand a chance against his unstoppable red zone offense.
Hell, he was even looking forward to the contest of wits ahead of him. Instinct told him Tessa would be a formidable opponent.
She was skittish, yet there was something about her that warranted a closer look. Something about her needled at him.
She had just the right mixture of intelligence, spunk and down-home humor that intrigued him. From the moment he'd met her, he'd known she was a bright, compassionate woman.
It was also obvious she was a straight-up-the-middle runner. Unlike some women who made a man dizzy trying to keep up with their continuous flea-flickers and stunt plays, a person always knew right where Tessa stood and her intentions.
Jack would bet a dollar to a donut hole that if Tessa Somerset said something, she meant it.
Granted she had never invited him for tea and crumpets—or whatever English teachers serve, but she'd never told him to go away and leave her alone either. Which meant there was hope.
Jack turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, then stepped out into his private locker room just off his office.
Maybe that was the attraction. Maybe it was more of the challenge of the chase and not the woman that had him so interested.
A vision of Tessa's long, blond hair, her light-blue eyes and her come-hither curves that she thought she hid beneath her dull, loose-fitting clothes flashed across his mind.
Then again, maybe not.
Jack mental
ly shrugged. It didn't matter what fired his interest. It just was.
Yep, he was definitively stoked when it came to Tessa Somerset.
With his mind on his impending pursuit of Tessa, he mindlessly reached for the clothes he'd hung on the hook beside the shower stall—and came up empty-handed.
Jarred from his thoughts, he glanced around for his clothes. Nothing.
Great! Somehow he didn't think showing up wearing only a towel and a smile was the way to get in Tessa's good graces.
He knew he'd hung his still-in-the-cleaners-bag jeans and shirt on the hook this morning. He was even pretty sure they had been hanging there when he stepped into the shower.
Damn, he didn't want to put on the sweaty T-shirt and warm-ups he'd worn all day. He and the kids had run lines and then played basketball until time to shower. Only he didn't shower after every PE period like the kids. Needless to say, at the end of the day, he and his clothes reeked.
Now fresh out of the shower, he loathed the idea of putting on his smelly, sweaty gym clothes. He reached inside the small wicker hamper where he'd thrown his nasty clothes just moments ago and came up empty-handed—again. Even the week's worth of gym towels he forgot to take home last night were gone.
What the hell?
A parade of goose bumps prickled up his spine as the theme song from the Twilight Zone whistled through his mind. He spun around, thinking one of the other coaches was playing a joke on him. The small, private bathroom was empty, save for him. He even stuck his head out the door and glanced around his office.
Nobody.
"Weird," he muttered as he eased the door shut and turned to face the small locker room.
That's when he saw it. A black sweater encased in a clear plastic bag hanging on the same hook where he'd hung his jeans and shirt earlier that morning.
"How the hell…" Jack crossed the space between him and the clothes in two strides.
There was a note pinned to the plastic.
TRUELOVE WEARS A TUTU
Jack stared at the note for a long moment before turning his attention to the clothes inside the clear bag. The black, turtle-neck sweater and wool slacks seemed to be the right size. There was even a smaller bag with black silk boxers and a pair of black socks. Not that he was too impressed with the small red hearts that dotted the boxer shorts and toes of the socks, but he could live with them. Knowing he was the only one who would know what decorated his shorts helped ease the screams of what little fashion sense he possessed.
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