Tequila Man

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month the prompt is to use sand, sea, cartwheels, tequila, and sunburn in the story.

Today’s contribution comes from RC Bonitz, author of A BLANKET FOR HER HEART.

Next week’s story will be by Val Muller, author of FOR WHOM MY HEART BEATS ETERNAL, a sci-fi romance, and CORGI CAPERS: DECEIT ON DORSET DRIVE, a mystery novel for young readers.

Tequila Man

Without wind the sea was calm, the sand hot enough to warm the blanket she was lying on. Little kids doing cartwheels kept flipping sand on her back. She had to turn over soon or she’d get a sunburn on her back, but a face-full of sand held no appeal whatsoever. Jeanie debated- find another spot to drop her blanket or yell at the kids? Asking nicely hadn’t worked so far. Damn, this beach used to be deserted, almost like a private place all her own.
“Knock it off you guys. Get lost.”
The voice was male, deep and fierce. The kids moved. She rolled over, popped her wide straw hat on her head, and studied the guy standing beside her. Tall, nice looking, dark hair, dark eyes with a burnished tan all over a nice set of rippling muscles. God’s gift to womanhood, she could see it in the smug smile on his face.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him a cool smile.
“Tequila?” He held up a bottle and two plastic cups.
“No thanks.”
His smile became a very confident grin. “You come here often?”
Oh hell. One itty-bitty good deed entitled him to a pickup? Nooo. “Occasionally.”
“I never noticed you before.”
Okay, enough of that. Polite and civil, but only that for the moment. “Oh?”
“Yeah. You’re so beautiful, I couldn’t have missed you.”
How obvious could he be? Remember, polite. Civil. He did you a favor. “Well, apparently you did.”
He nodded, still smiling. “What’s your name?”
Okay, enough. “Who wants to know?”
He shifted the bottle to the other hand, squeezing it and the cups together, then offered a handshake. “I’m Greg Hawkins.”
She let his hand hang out there by its lonesome. “Hi.”
He drew back the hand and stared at her. “You married or something?”
“No.”
“Having a bad day?”
“Nope.” Well, it was okay up to now. She didn’t say that, didn’t have to be nasty about it.
He grimaced. “It’s just me then? I turn you off?”
She almost said yes, but studied him instead. She didn’t like guys who thought their masculine charm would overwhelm her, but she wasn’t mean. “Actually, it has been a bad day.”
He squatted down beside her.
Oh great, she’d given him an opening.
He hesitated before he spoke, then went right ahead. “Would you promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“You’ll keep coming back to this beach?”
“Why should I do that?”
“So I can meet you on a good day.”
She stared at him. He seemed so earnest, so concerned, so—intense. “You don’t give up, do you?”
He smiled, a nice, modest, friendly smile. “Not when something is important.”
Damn… She’d probably regret this, but what the hell. “Jeanie Simone.”
“What?”
“That’s my name. I’ll take some of that tequila now.”
The Spot Writers- our members.
RC Bonitz
http://www.rcbonitz.com

Val Muller
http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie
http://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Kathy Price
(Website in development)

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