Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Still haven't read...

Apples & Oranges? Check out an excerpt here:



“I think he’s gay.” I threw a handful of shelled peas into the bowl with more strength than I anticipated, and they rolled back out the other side.
            “Easy there, turbo.” Lexie looked at me with raised eyebrows.
When I’d marched into work three hours later than promised, she’d been ready to live up to her redheaded reputation. I could practically smell the curse words in the air. But one look at my blackened feet and sweat-soaked blouse, and her anger quickly melted into amusement. Apparently riding a city bus back to work without shoes or my blessed iPhone was punishment enough, and she’d promptly handed me a water bottle. Now we were working into the evening to get ready for an event the next day.
“You know, just because a man doesn’t roll over and let you scratch his belly the minute you look at him doesn’t make him gay,” Candace said, picking up the stray peas.
I raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t his belly I was planning on scratching.”
She was usually the voice of reason between the three of us, mostly because she was the mother of three kids and constantly broke up fights between the little buggers. But she had the whole cooperation thing down pat, compared to Lexie and me. You see, Lexie had only been married to Fletcher about a year, and she and her husband had a blended family with two kids. The closest I’d ever been to an altar was standing in as my mother’s maid-of-honor in her fourth wedding.
Or was that her sixth? Oh, well. It didn’t really matter.
Usually at the first sign of contention in a relationship, I was out the door, a habit Candace had been trying to break me of for years. Especially when I dated Lexie’s husband, Fletcher. Yeah. I dated Doctor Fletcher Haybee before Lexie married him. It sounds weirder than it actually was. The man wouldn’t lay a hand on me, because he was so obsessed with my waif-like friend, and by the time we broke up, I was so sexually frustrated, I would’ve made out with a bum.
I didn’t. But I could have.
Lexie plopped another basket of fresh sugar snap peas in front of me. “Maybe he just wasn’t interested.”
“That never happens.” I pointed an empty pod at her. When she smiled innocently at me over her shoulder, I added, “Until Fletcher came along. Damn him.”
            She giggled. “He threw off your mojo.”

Tossing a handful of pods over my head, I groaned dramatically. I was good at dramatic. “He did! Don’t you understand how frustrating that is?”


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