Tuesday Tales – Lemon – Stalled Independence

ReganWelcome back to Tuesday Tales!  This weeks prompt is to be inspired by Lemon.

I’d like to re-introduce you to Regan from my Independence Day story set in the wonderful little town of Lake Point (where Tag & Michaela live). I first introduced her months ago when her car stalled out and died…and she was rescued by a cowboy. At this point in the story Regan has managed to get herself a job and a place to stay.

She’s crushing on her rescuer, Clay, a little bit…but her past experiences hold her back. Myrtle (Tag’s aunt) is her boss…and meddling in her life as much as she does anyones:

Regan rushed into The Diner so fast she forgot to let go of the door and got yanked backwards. Her finger smarted and she cursed under her breath. “Crap, damn, ow.”

“Well there you are, sunshine.” Myrtle set two full plates down on the bar for the waiting customers. “I was getting worried about you.”

“Sorry. Sorry.” Regan shook out her hand and shed her coat. “The alarm in the apartment didn’t go off.”

“How did your first night in the new place go?”

Thanks to Myrtle, Regan had found a nice, small, and furnished apartment to rent that wasn’t too expensive. Although it was someone’s finished basement, she had a front and back door, a kitchen and bathroom. Her bedroom and living room were the same room, but there was a large walk-in closet that would have been great if she still had all her clothes. “It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Myrtle handed Regan her apron as she passed. “You were all excited to not be sleeping in the motel. Is the apartment not comfortable?”

“No. It’s great. The bed is stupid-comfortable.” Regan tied off the apron and scanned the room. Lucky for her there weren’t a lot of customers yet. Her guilt was mildly alleviated that she hadn’t left Myrtle in the lurch.

“So?”

“Oh, right. It’s just—I’ve never stayed anywhere alone.” From living with her parents as a child, onto her roommate in the dorms her one semester in college, and then right in with Tony, she’d always lived with someone else. “I thought it was just the hotel, but I’m just not used to being alone.”

“Everything is much louder and quieter all at once that first time.” Myrtle squeezed her shoulder. “I know how it feels.”

“I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just weird.” Weird, creepy, scary, whatever one would call it. Either way, Regan had tossed and turned all night. Without any sleep the night before, she feared she’d end up dragging her feet all shift.

“Be a dear and cut those lemons for me, would you?” Myrtle hacked away at a head of lettuce behind the counter. “And how is Clay?”

“What?” Regan stopped with the knife barely through the rind. “Why would you ask me that? I mean, what?”

Myrtle chuckled. “Sorry. Just you two seem awful chummy.”

“He’s been nice.” Regan focused on cutting the lemon. Sure, she found Clay attractive, I mean what girl wouldn’t drool over a tall, dark, and handsome cowboy straight out of a movie. One with brains, and gorgeous forest-green eyes, and…what the hell are you doing? Regan’s shoulders sagged and she focused all her attention on the lemon in front of her. That lemon was far safer than thoughts of Clay. Last thing she needed was a man. After Tony, she’d be find never even being friends with another guy.

“Regan?” Myrtle’s hand rested on her shoulder. “What is it, child?”

Myrtle’s attentions made Regan aware of the tear on her cheek.  Regan hooked her finger and wiped it away with her knuckle to avoid lemon juice anywhere near her eye. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with a good explanation. After everything, it seemed silly to miss Tony, he was the reason she’d left.

“You miss your family?”

“No.” Regan closed her eyes, cursing her frank admission. Years ago she’d given up hope of her family caring anymore. They’d disowned her when she’d left college, or rather flunked out. She sighed. “I don’t know. My head is a mess.”

“Your head? Or your heart?”

“Yes.”

“Must have been tough leaving everything.”

She hadn’t had much to leave, but it still kept her up at night. The effort it had taken to leave had been herculean. “I just don’t know if I did the right thing.”

“Sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest thing to do.” Myrtle tossed the lettuce into a bin, and started in on the carrots. “I’ve been there a few times in my life.”

Regan had little doubt Myrtle meant what she said. “I guess.”

“You happy here?”

“Here?” Regan glanced around the small, neat café. Only a few tables were full, but she already knew all their names. Despite being in New York, which she’d heard was full of rude cities and people, this place had a small town feel like where she’d lived in Illinois. “I think so. I don’t really know it that well, yet.” Why she’d made it conditional, she didn’t know. Instinct, maybe. Instinct to keep guarded.

“You know their names?” Myrtle shook her peeler toward the occupied booths.

“Yes.”

“Then you know it well enough. Lake Point is a good little town. Once you know the lie-abouts like them, you’re in.” Myrtle paused to wink before she resumed her attention to the carrots. “I think sometimes you just know in your heart when you’re home, and you can relax.”

“What if you don’t trust your heart?” Though she’d kept her words quiet, Regan could still feel Myrtle’s strong gaze on her. Heat flamed her cheeks and she gathered the cut lemons into the bucket. “I should go put these in the cooler.”

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Tuesday Tales – Rough, Hard and oh so Dirty…

MikeyThe prompt this week is a little more complicated than usual. It was originally Rough, but we just did that a few weeks ago…so through some…interesting discussions we ended up with  a special challenge…to use the three words Rough, Hard, and Dirty in any particular order.

So it’s back to Deep Fried Sweethearts with my May/December-ish romance of Michaela and Owen, aka “Tag”. I thought it was time to give them a connection beyond their mutual physical attraction…but first Michaela has to deal with a pleasant awakening…

As always this is un-edited mostly, so forgive any errors:

“Michaela?” A warm hand grasped her shoulder and shook gently.

Michaela jolted awake and blurted, “I’m up, I’m up.” She immediately started to straighten the papers on her desk, as if it would cover the fact she was just dreaming about the young man who’d shook her awake. Naughty dreams the likes she’d never had. Despite her joking with Eve to save face, Michaela considered herself a total prude, but her latest dreams proved her wrong.

Dreams of Owen bending her over this very desk and taking her rough, hard, and oh so dirty lingered in her mind and the trickle of sweat the slipped down the nape of her neck. She normally wouldn’t dare face him while the dreams were still at the forefront, but his chuckle drew her gaze anyway.

He covered his mouth with a hand while leaning against the file cabinets lining the wall.

“I’m awake,” she defended before he could even speak. “It was just a cat nap.”

“Of course you are.” His snort burst from behind his hand and he let out a good loud bark of a laugh. “You have a really cute snore.”

“I wasn’t—I…” Unfortunately, his laughter was contagious and she found herself joining him before she could form a good argument. She rubbed her face with both hands and groaned. “I’m sorry. I never do that, especially when we’re open. I’ve slept on the couch a couple of times when I had to work late, but to snooze during business hours?”

“You’re exhausted. You’ve got to stop killing yourself.” He turned the chair next to her around and straddled it. When he leaned his forearms on the back, she was inevitably drawn to his glorious biceps.

Man, she was so screwed. She gave her head a quick shake to clear it. “It’s my business, Owen. I will never stop killing myself for it.”

“You need rest, or you’ll be no good to the business.” He smiled, and set his hand on her wrist. “Why don’t you go home and take a nap? I’m here now, I’ll keep an eye on things and you can be back well before closing. Maybe tonight you’ll actually let me help settle the numbers.”

Based on all the skill he’d shown in everything she’d thrown at him, she had no doubt he was capable of handling closing the registers and setting the deposit, but the thought still sent a knot of tension right to stomach. She wrinkled her nose and forced a smile. “Maybe.”

“I can’t earn your trust if you don’t let me try.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Yes it is. You don’t trust easily. If you did you’d have team leads that could close the drawers at night.” His grasp loosened on her wrist, and he sighed. “They don’t have to even handle anything other than dropping their money into the safe like they would any other cash drop. We, or you, could handle the deposit yourself then the next day.”

“Then I wouldn’t need you.” Even though the thought of anyone handling the cash turned her stomach, she had to try and cover it with something, even teasing him.

“Yes you would. I’m irreplaceable.”

She grinned and relaxed at his return tease. “I’m not so sure.”

“I think you are, you’re just afraid to admit it, among other things.”

“Is that so?” As much as she wanted to curb the rising blush, she couldn’t take her eyes from his. “Anyway, about me leaving, I really shouldn’t.”

“I think the place will be all right for a couple of hours. You live two blocks away.”

“So what were you up to this morning? You’re filthy.” She couldn’t stop looking at his arms, that’s how she’d noticed the dark smudges near his elbow and wrist. “Grease?”

“Oil. I thought I got it all.” He lifted his arm, his forehead puckering into an adorable hint of a frown. “Damn, don’t worry I’ll get good and cleaned up before I touch food. Maybe I should have you check me thoroughly.”

A task she sure wouldn’t mind for a minute. She managed to laugh to cover the choking lump in her throat and heat the idea sent right to her core. “Cute. Real cute. What were you doing, grease monkey?”

“I was at Cal’s working on my Nova.”

This time she did choke on her own laughter, and she blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, did you say a Nova? As in a No-Go?”

Owen stopped examining his arms and his gaze snapped to meet hers. “What did you say?”

“A No-Go…are you really working on one?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, um…”

Michaela couldn’t recall a time he’d been at a loss for words, and she liked the change even if it lasted for a second. “What year?”

“A 76 SS. Why?”

Warmth filled her heart and for the first time in a logn time, embarrassment was banished to the edge of her mind. “I just can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“You have to swear not to tell anyone. It’ll just perpetuate my nickname worse than it already is.”

“Okay.” He might have been thoroughly confused, but at least he’d managed a smile when she’d suggested keeping it a secret.

“Good.” She rose and closed the office door most of the way before heading to the small file cabinet behind her desk. After unlocking it, she opened it and dug through her too-big purse for her wallet.  “Okay, this isn’t the best picture. I have several much better ones at home.”

Owen rose and turned his chair around to edge closer. Once they were shoulder to shoulder, she showed him the picture. He gasped and snatched the picture from her fingers. “Holy crap.”

“That’s my dad and me, and my baby. I call her Betty.”

“I have never seen her, where do you hide her?” He ran his index finger along the lines of the black Nova in the picture.

“New York winters are assholes to cars, especially beauties like Betty.” She leaned in close. “I used to take her out in the summers, but when things with Gary got bad, I didn’t want to risk her getting caught in the crossfire.”

“Tell me you didn’t sell it.”

“Technically, I did—but I sold her to Dad. With he and Mom down in Virginia, it wasn’t part of the crap-fest of my divorce and she’s being well cared for.”

“You’ve been divorced five years. Why not get her back?”

“First couple of years, I didn’t care about anything, then this place happened and all my focus has been here.” She sighed and took the picture back. “I guess that’s part of why I wanted to get an assistant manager. Maybe then I’d have time to get her back.”

“Who restored her for you? Looks like an amazing job.”

“No one. Dad and I did it all ourselves. From frame to chrome.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup. Dad had some rules about driving and getting a license. I had to be able to change my own oil and tires, I had to know how the engine worked, and I had to learn on a stick before I went to an automatic.” She shrugged and offered a smile. With a bit of regret, she slipped the picture back into its place in her wallet. “Turned out, I loved it, but I didn’t like to tell anyone. They already called me Mikey, I didn’t need to add fuel to the tomboy fire.”

“Damn. You just got so much cooler.”

“Cooler?” She giggled and nudged his shoulder with her own. When she turned to say something, she realized just how close he was. Embarrassment started to flutter and flap again, rising from the place she’d tried to bury it. She could kiss him now, he was so close, but she couldn’t dare for so many reasons. “I’m glad you think so.”

“I think more than that.” His trademark grin returned and he edged closer. “Like you should get yourself to bed.”

With you? Please say with you. She’d officially lost her mind. Owen was her employee and so young, both huge red flags against starting something.

“So are you going?”

“I can’t.”

“You have to start trusting someone sometime. Trust me for two hours. I swear I’ll call you in two hours, but you have to sleep.”

The last thing on her mind at that moment was sleep, but it would have to do for now. She finally nodded, “I’ll try. I don’t do naps well.”

“You just had one on your desk, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Can’t I just sleep here on the couch?”

“Let go, Michaela. Trust me.”

“Easier said than done.”

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