Taste of Love Tattoo...Want more?

Thursday, 21 April 2011 13:27 | Written by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy | |
Another tempting taste of LOVE TATTOO.

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http://www.evernightpublishing.com/p...imer-Murphy.ht. One moment he laid sound asleep and the
next he sat up, alert and aware. He stretched that agile, well-muscled
body as I sighed with appreciation.
“Hello.” I said, at a loss of anything to say. There were so
many things I wanted to voice but I didn’t.
“Evening, mo anam cara.” Will grinned as he spoke. “Would
you like to eat? I’m starving.”
So was I; our slow loving burned away any calories we
consumed and it would soon be twenty-four hours since we ate our
steaks.
“I would love to eat.”
“Good.” He dressed with speed. One moment he stood
naked, the next he wore his jeans, shirts, boots, and all. “Let’s go.”
He wasn’t a man to waste time and before I could collect my
thoughts, we entered the Riverview Buffet with its multiple stations
offering various kinds of food. Like any huge casino buffet, this one
served up a little bit of almost everything you could want. We
ranged around the Texas Grill, picked up a few bites at the Country
Skillet, and added something from Chopstix. I eyed the Sweets
station with longing but Will ignored it. Whether or not he could be
a vampire remained unknown but I noticed he liked meat, not sweets.
“Unless you just want to stay, we’ll head back after we eat.”
Will said. He munched on a piece of fried chicken larger than my
hand.
“That’s fine.” I would be glad to change clothing and get my
gear. I hoped that my car remained at the motel and that the
management had not tossed my stuff out in the street. First order of
business would be to take care of the bill. “When is your next truck
run?”
Will polished off the last bit of meat from the chicken bones
and picked up a catfish strip.
“It’ll be whenever I want.”
Say what?, I thought. Every trucker I ever knew – and since
some people swear Texas puts the “T” in trucker, I have known plenty
– had regular runs. They might have a break between trips but they
knew when the next one came up. I had heard about independent
truck drivers but this took a blue ribbon prize.
“Whoever you drive for must be flexible.” I said, buttering a
hot roll. “Every truck driver I know has to follow what the company
tells them.”
He cracked a smile. “I don’t drive for any one company.
When I want to go out, I look up online and find out who needs
someone to haul. I prefer to be master of my own destiny.”
Nice if you could swing it that way, I thought with admiration.
“So you can do what you want?”
“Aye, that’s the idea.”
Interesting, indeed and since curiosity killed that cat, I didn’t
want to die but I asked anyway,
“So I guess you have enough financial security to do it your
way.”
He belted out a laugh and almost choked on his catfish.
“You can’t ever be too rich, Cara Riley, but my pockets run
deep.”
He lost me but I thought he meant he had enough money to do
as he pleased. His riddles teased me but offered little information.
With my temper sizzling, I forked food into my mouth to keep quiet.
Besides, it tasted better than biting my tongue. Soon, I promised
myself, we would do the hard questions and I would insist on
answers. Until then, I would ride this thing all the way out and hang
on tight.