Wednesday Words: Marching Orders

Beware the Ides of March! Today’s #1lineWed theme in **MARCH**. Fitting, right? I’m jumping series, leaving Special Forces: Operation Alpha for a week because there were no forced MARCHes–or any other kind–in the next book in that series. So, we’re going to visit Tait “Shooter” McCord and his “squeaky mouse”, Lauren Kelly.
****
As Tait dressed and loaded up for bear, Lauren trailed around behind him chattering questions like a magpie. She didn’t want to stay alone. She didn’t trust this Kujo guy—who named their child Kujo anyway? When would he be back? Where was he going? Was it because of her?

She marched behind him as he tossed the black duffel bag full of weapons into the passenger seat of his old Jeep Wrangler. The thing looked like a junker but it ran like an Indy car, especially off road. He cussed Black Root to hell and back for destroying his truck. The thing had been almost brand new and had all the bells and whistles. The Jeep? It barely had the basics.

“You can’t go, mouse. It’s too dangerous.”

“And staying here alone isn’t?”

“Kujo will be here before you know it. He’s one of Hank’s best. He and Chewy will keep you safe until I can get back.” Her sudden move took him by surprise as he found his arms full of curvy woman. He instinctively grabbed her ass as her legs wrapped around his waist and her arm around his neck. Then she was kissing him, and his brain went on autopilot. He turned, bracing her against the Jeep, as he took her mouth. He tasted her with the desperation of a starving man—lips and tongue and his hands pulled her core tight against his raging erection.

“You better come home to me, buster,” she finally wheezed out, breaking their kiss. “I’ve never thrown myself at any man so don’t make me regret this.”

He grinned so wide his eyes crinkled, and her heart lurched in her chest. This man was usually so solemn and serious and unreadable, but she could decipher every last one of the emotions on his face in that moment. There was something between them—something wild and intense and she had every intention of fighting for it. Opposites be damned.

Tait touched his forehead to hers. “Stay safe, Lauren.” If anything happened to her, he’d burn down the world. That wasn’t a promise, it was a fact.
****
Writers, any MARCH action in your WIP? Readers, what books are marching to the top of your TBR pile? 😉

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About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of two award-winning series--Moonstruck and The Penumbra Papers, Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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2 Responses to Wednesday Words: Marching Orders

  1. Ooo, love it!

    Okay, let’s see how this bit from UatB grabs ya…

    I woke up on the floor feeling like shit. I had imprints from my mom’s Berber carpet on my cheek and my back was killing me. My mouth felt like a dozen gnomes had marched through wearing dirty boots.
    Wiping the drool off my chin, I pushed myself upright. I remembered sliding to the floor and putting my face in my knees. I didn’t remember falling asleep but I couldn’t forget how hard I’d cried. Like a freakin’ baby. And like a baby, I’d cried myself to sleep. Stupid.
    I took a deep breath. I’d had too much to do for a goddamn nap, which meant I didn’t have time to sit around wallowing afterwards. Suck it up, buttercup.
    The light through the window had that soft golden glow it gets when the sun’s about to dip below the horizon. Crap. I’d slept longer than I thought. On the upside, I was less gruesome, so maybe I could get more stuff done in person.
    I pushed my lazy ass off the floor and walked to the doorway. That’s when I noticed how quiet the house was. Not a damn thing was stirring out there. And with four… correction, three kids in the house, a cat, and a couple witches, someone should be making some kind of racket. Cautiously, I pulled the door open.
    “Hello?”

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