In keeping with the season, #1ineWed is playing along. This week’s theme is **GIFT**. I had to look through several WIPs and “unattached” scenes. GIFT is not a word I use often and though presents have been given and certain of my characters have certain gifts, this is the one I decided on. Some of you may remember Tag from REMEMBER THE NIGHT. He was the Nightrider who was injured in the opening scene. This is a little vignette that I doodled with one day that will likely appear when I write Tag’s story. In the meantime, it’s in keeping with the holidays. 🙂
I stared at him, all ropey muscles, granite jaw—who even said that outside of a romance novel—and those eyes. Oh m’gawd, those eyes. Oh, forget his eyes. I couldn’t take my eyes off his package, and I didn’t mean that package, even though I’d sorta checked it out, but the whole, complete present wrapped in black leather that was him standing there all insolent and full of more testosterone than any male I’d ever come across.
Opening my mouth, only a sound came out. “Uhm…”
He arched a brow which only infuriated me.
“Uhm.” Dang it. I was a full-grown woman. Right? Right. Of course I was. I’d tamed hordes of harried Christmas shoppers. I could handle this hunka-hunk-of-burning-love with my eyes closed. I pulled together whatever brain cells I had left and pasted a professional smile on my face. Because I was all professional like that. “May I help you?”
A slow grin tweaked the corners of his mouth and I licked my lips. I could almost taste him.
His eyes followed my tongue before rising to meet my gaze. “I have the feeling you just might, darlin’.”
Oh my freaking god. He had a drawl. A real-life southern drawl. I swallowed. Hard. Professional, I reminded myself.
“Are you shopping for something in particular, sir?”
He laughed, deep and rumbling, making the hair stand up on my arms.
“I wasn’t until I saw you.” He teased his fingertips down my cheek. “Now, doesn’t that feel right? Me touching you like this?”
My knees all but buckled. It did. It felt so very right.
His grin crooked and a freaking dimple popped out to punctuate his face. I was a goner. I knew this deep in my very bones.
“My name is Tag.”
“Tag, you’re it.” And he was. I stared at him, pretty sure I looked as dumbfounded and idiotic as I felt. I didn’t believe in soul mates. Or sexy repartee. Or any of that stuff. Men were good for one thing and one thing only—reaching stuff on the top shelf. Tag was tall enough he could reach stuff in the attic.
“Yo, babe?” He didn’t snap his fingers to get my attention but he might as well have.
“Uhm…” So much for professionalism.
“I can call ya babe. Or darlin’. Don’t got a problem with that but I surely would like t’know your name. Since you know mine…”
“Yeah, you will be.”
Wait! What? That’s not what I meant. “Your what?”
“My whatever you wanna be. What’s your name, darlin’?”
I pointed to my name tag—WINTERS. That was my name. Well, my last name. He leaned over the counter, caught my chin, and kissed me before I could do more than squeak.
“Ms. Winters, what is the meaning of this?”
Uh oh. My stick-up-her-butt supervisor. Dang it. Tag stiffened and I realized he wore a leather jacket. With patches. Like biker-type patches. Uh double-oh oh.
“I’ll take that one.” He pointed to the priciest gift set, reached in his pocket, and pulled out a couple of hundred dollar bills. “And I’ll take you, babe. Tonight.”
“You’re fired!” From the dragon lady.
I could live with that. “Tag! Wait.”
I hope you enjoyed this little peek into the Nightrider world. See? Even bikers believe in Christmas. 😉 What gift of words to y’all have today?