Perfect Match, page 41
Her eyes glittered with speckles of gold.
He lowered his face against her cheek. His lips brushed one cheek, then the other, and then her chin. He barely let his lips brush hers. He whispered, close to her ear, “I love your warmth.” His mouth slowly sought hers, as he whispered, “I want to taste and love your Hispanic heat.”
His mouth touched hers gently, searching for her response.
Her breathing came with soft moans, as her damp lips and pink tongue sought his. Heat coursed through her like a wildfire. His hands slowly moved along her shoulders, and back, unleashing a stream of thirsty emotions. And when his hands moved along her sides brushing against her breasts, she felt her nipples tingle erect under the thin fabric of her dress.
When she pulled back, and looked at him, her face was flushed, her eyes shining, and her breathing was filled with heat, she said, “I’m not used to being brought to breathless.” Her smile flashed, and eyes sparkled under her long lashes.
He raked his hand along the side of his hair, shaking his head, “How am I supposed to work 15-hour days and not be able to touch you?”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Saturday Afternoon, mid-August
The month of July had been long, hot, and filled with days of hard work, but profitable for Romantic Renovations. Roscoe had shortened the work day to a compassionate ten-hours. Hourly pay increases had remained on track, and Billy and Jerome had put their heads together with the rest of the crew, implementing efficiencies that would maintain quality, but keep the profit margin healthy.
It worked. Three more out-of-work people were added to the crew, including another panel truck, and other equipment. Each time there was a personnel addition, another full page ad appeared in the newspaper, with photographs, names, and the CEO title. Regardless of job specialty or skills, every employee was trained to be a friendly customer excellence officer. No exceptions.
Of the five customer complaints registered, they turned out to be product defects. Roscoe pursued a resolution, unbending. Faulty products were returned, money refunded by the supplier or manufacturer. The customer was made happy with the final resolution. Word spread that Romantic Renovations was a quality company on the rise.
Madison had achieved a plateau of stability in running Fallington Enterprises. She’d made inroads in finding new sources of quality products, resulting in fewer imports from foreign countries operating below standards. She’d analyzed consumer trends, tapping into those markets. In her speaking opportunities she nurtured the shift from mass produced junk to quality crafted items that would support entrepreneurs venturing from unemployment into the workforce.
She was glad to spend most of her time in Asheville. She’d had to make one three-day trip to California for training with Rodney and the new office manager.
Hollis Redgrave, the ex-L.A. manager, was now serving time in prison. He’d been convicted of operating a drug ring. No wonder business performance had slipped in that region.
Madison and Selena spent time with Roscoe every weekend. They picked him up for church on Sunday’s, having lunch at their apartment, or catching a meal around town. During the week Madison often shared bag lunches with him, and spent time with him in the evenings, and especially Saturday afternoons, and nights.
They took their time getting to know each other, talking about their past lives, the business world, and their dreams of the future. Madison cherished the thoughtful way in which Roscoe listened to her. She felt warm appreciation from him. She loved his gentle manner when he reached for her hand, put his arm around her when watching a movie, and how he took his time when he embraced her.
When alone their touches became more intimate. Their embraces stirred passions and their kisses aroused deep emotions that ached for release, but there was a quiet mutual restraint.
Selena had regained her health, following the doctor’s orders to the letter. She’d been accepted into UNC-Asheville, looking forward to a degree in literature and language. With her grades in high school, she’d been awarded almost a full scholarship, and attending UNC-Asheville would keep her close to Dr. Hertford, at least the first year.
Trevor Drake was a different story. Since he’d stirred the politics of Cobalt Medical Center like a centrifuge in a wild orbit, an anonymous person had made a donation to the hospital to be used as a full scholarship for Trevor to any public college in North Carolina.
Trevor opted for UNC-Asheville. He wanted to be near Selena. The hospital was happy because they wanted to retain him on staff. They gave him a rare promotion of BMET Consultant. His consulting schedule was at his discretion, to accommodate his college schedule. The hospital retainer allowed him to add to his savings, update his phones, computer, and his car. He could now pick up Selena with little worry of a flat tire or car breakdown.
When Cobalt’s governing body learned how the hospital administrator had jeopardized professional practices, and patients’ health with his severe budget approach, he was fired. A more open and responsive facility resulted, and a search was launched for a new leader.
Roscoe had completed his roof top garden. It had been finished out with a combination of outdoor tile, and tiered wooden decks. Three round wooden tables with chairs, covered with rainbow-colored umbrellas were in place. Planters ringed the chest-high walls with colorful local plants and flowers. Large wooden planters held mall-size trees.
The tiki-cabana idea had been expanded to include a sheltered room with windows for use during inclement weather. It was equipped with a table and chairs. A small efficiency kitchen, including refrigerator, eliminated endless trips up and down steps leading to his loft.
Madison and Selena had prepared Mexican Chicken for the evening meal, as Roscoe hovered around them checking on the ice, drinks, and lighting the garden torches and candle lanterns on the table in the middle of the garden.
Days were getting shorter as summer wore on. The sun was winking through scattered clouds, as it was settling behind the mountains. Stars were peeping through the balmy air, but a firepot sat waiting if needed, as the evening mountain air cooled.
Their meal was filled with their usual laughter and banter. Roscoe loved the festive Mexican music Madison and Selena had selected, playing on the music system. After dessert, Roscoe poured a little more wine for the three. “Delicious meal. What a night!”
“Wonderful.” Madison smiled.
Roscoe looked around and up at the sky, then back at them. “I know it might be a little early to present you with something serious, but I need to do this. There are two things I want to get out in the open.”
“What?” Madison’s face clouded.
Selena’s turned serious.
Roscoe pulled a small wrapped box from his pocket and placed it before Madison.
“May I open it?”
He nodded.
Selena’s eyes were fixed on her mom.
Madison took the white paper off, gently removing the lid. Her eyes sparkled at the simple platinum band with two small diamonds side-by-side, reflecting the dancing candle flame.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You know my financial situation,” he chuckled, “so this is temporary until I can do better but—”
“This is all I need.”
“Well, as I said, this might be a bit early, because I know we’re still getting to know each other, but I want our lives to be engaged in a more committed way.”
Madison smiled at him. “Let me be sure I understand. If I wear this ring this means we’ll be engaged to get married?” Her head gave her signature tilt.
“Yes.”
“I see. You’re still curious to discover Hispanic heat?
He chuckled. “Yes, and the best way for me to experience that is if you’re my beautiful wife, and I’m your husband.
She held her hand out, smiling. “Will you slip the ring on my finger?”
“But I haven’t asked for your answer yet? There’s something else, another part.”
Selena had been smiling at her mom, but had seemed a little awkward.
Roscoe pulled another box from his pocket, handing it to Selena.
“You’re kidding me?” She giggled, as she opened the box, her eyes gleaming at a similar band, smaller with her birthstone. “I love it, but—?”
“This is the other part. The two of you are a package. You have to give the same answer.” He looked at Madison. “You’re the woman I want to be my wife, the woman I want to spend my days and nights with.” He turned to Selena. “And you’re the young woman I want to accept as my daughter. I can’t imagine either one of you not being a part of my life.” He blinked his eyes several times.
Madison said, “Are you sure you can handle two Hispanic women?”
He laughed. “I’m hoping Trevor will take one of them off my hands one of these days.”
Selena looked at her mom. “Mom, you know there’s only one answer we can give.” They were smiling. “On the count of three. One…two…three.”
They both yelled, “Yes!”
Roscoe slipped the rings on their fingers, and then stood, hugging both.
When they’d returned to their seats, laughing and chatting, with Madison and Selena engaged with the fiery reflections from their rings, Roscoe’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, recognizing the phone number. He thought, what a time for this call. “Important. I need to take this.”
Madison and Selena continued in whispers, smiling, and admiring their rings.
“This is Roscoe speaking.” He paused, listening. “This is a great time to call.” More listening. “Thank you for taking the time. Really special of you.” Listening again. “She’s here now, and I’m sure she’d like to speak with you.” Roscoe continued listening.
Madison and Selena had stopped whispering, shaking their heads that they didn’t want to get on the phone. Selena mouthed “Trevor only.”
Roscoe said, “It might simplify the conversation if I turn on the speaker phone. Okay, good.” He clicked the speaker phone button. As he handed the phone to Selena, he said, “This phone call is for you.”
Selena unnerved, said, “Hello?”
“Selena, I’m pleased to meet you by phone. My name is Grace Foster, and I am the owner of the Grace Foster Literary Agency in Charlotte. I’ve read the first five chapters of your manuscript, and I’m impressed with your writing, and the content of your story. You did an outstanding job with the development of your characters, your writing shows promise. I caught a few things we could work on, but if you’re interested I’d like to read the rest of your novel.”
Selena’s eyes were open wider than her mouth, as she walked in a circle staring at the phone, fanning her face with her other hand.
“My former English student, Roscoe Fallington, put me onto your interest in writing.” She chuckled. “He’ll have to tell you what a fine student he was.”
Madison grinned at him.
Selena getting control, said, “What…what would you like for me to do next?”
Grace Foster confirmed Selena’s email address. “I’ll email instructions on how to send me your finished manuscript. Once I get it, I’ll contact you in a few days to set up a meeting in my office. Would that be possible?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much. I guess you can tell I’m so excited I can hardly talk.”
“I wish more writers had your kind of excitement. I’ll send you an email in the next half hour. By the way, have you decided on a title for your novel?”
“Yes, I have.” Selena smiled at her mom and Roscoe holding hands in the candle light. “I’d like to call it Perfect Match.”
The End
Thank you for reading Perfect Match and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. I spent many days developing the characters Madison, Selena, and Roscoe. At times they were quite a handful, but I hope you concluded, as I did, that they were a Perfect Match!
I welcome readers comments, posts, and reviews. And I hope you’ll recommend my novels to your friends.
If you haven’t read my other novels, I hope you’ll give them a read. I enjoy writing edgy contemporary romance, with strong female protagonists and other runaway characters usually on a mission to satisfy their passions.
Find out what I’m writing for you next.
Connect with Me Online:
My Blog
My Website
Jerry Byrum, Perfect Match
