Hot Mess (29 page)

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Authors: Anne Conley

Tags: #steamy romance, #hot firefighter, #hiv, #romance, #fireman, #aids, #steamy, #contemporary romance, #adult romance, #firefighter

BOOK: Hot Mess
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"Okay. Thank you, Cindy."

"No, Rachel. Thank you. This was awesome." She turned to them and flashed them a lecherous smile. "Now, go out and celebrate this achievement."

This was the part of the day that Rachel had actually been looking forward to. Sam had promised her that if the day went great, they would celebrate. If it went badly, he would make her feel better. So it was a win-win situation for her. She grinned up at him and grabbed his hand as they left the building together.

They had both dressed up for the occasion, as Rachel felt it was important to put out a professional image. She was wearing a suit with a skirt, stockings and high heels.

Sam had worn dress pants, a button down shirt, and a tie. Rachel's mouth watered when she'd seen him the first time today, the way the shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. In the jeep, he loosened his tie when she kicked off her heels, and his hand went straight to its accustomed spot, her thigh. She smirked as he discovered her stockings and watched him swallow thickly.

When he spoke, his voice was low and husky. "I have plans for dinner tonight. I hope you like it." His finger trailed the top of the stocking, tracing the lace edges.

She looked at the man that had taken her on an emotional roller coaster ride in the past year. The last few months had been amazing, everything a girl could hope for. The few months before that, not so much. But Sam had gone to the doctor with her and asked questions. They had sat the girls down and talked to both of them, together. Remarkably, Sophia had been relieved to have someone to talk to besides Rachel about her disease, knowing that Amanda now knew too. Rachel had felt guilty about laying that on her daughter's shoulders for so long.

Christmas had been fun. Sam had driven everybody to Marshall to look at the spectacular Christmas lights and insisted that Rachel make "Christmas cookies" for the drive. When they'd returned, Sam had given her a necklace, a silver Iris with a pearl in the center, a symbol of their future together. She cherished it and wore it everyday. Rachel looked over at her man, the super-hot bundle of sex sitting in the jeep next to her.

He looked at her expectantly, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, his finger slipping under the elastic top of the stocking.

"I'm pretty sure anything you planned will be fine, Sam."

He chuckled self consciously. "I made a picnic."

"So we're eating cold pizza rolls?" She was teasing, but the idea of Sam cooking had her a little wary.

"No. I actually made real food."

She squeezed his hand, feeling its strength. "I'm sure it'll be great."

"You don't sound so sure." Now he was teasing, and she laughed at him.

"Let's go, Chef Boyardee."

Sam started the jeep and drove to the Dogwood Park, a secluded area of Serendipity that Rachel had only been to a few times with Sophia.

After parking the car, grabbing a basket and blanket out of the back seat, and opening her door for her, Sam led her down a hill into a stand of trees. When he had spread out the blanket, he began unpacking the enormous basket of food.

"I did have a little help from Brenda." He pulled out sandwiches, deviled eggs, and a thermos of what could only be soup. "She put together some recipes for me and did the shopping. I hope you like it. You're sort of my guinea pig. The guys at the fire station have told me under no uncertain terms that they're tired of breakfast for supper when I cook." He looked at her sideways, and Rachel felt her heart tug a little for him. He was nervous about his cooking, and it was sweet.

"I'm sure it'll be good. If you can follow a recipe, you can make anything." Rachel tried to be supportive, as she took a bite of a deviled egg, and crunched down on a piece of egg shell. Swallowing the rest of the bite in a choked swallow, she smiled weakly.

Of course, Sam heard the crunch and saw the look on her face. He hurriedly unwrapped a sandwich. "Here, try this."

She took a bite of the sandwich, and groaned with delight. "Oh, Sam. This is really good. What's in it?"

"Um, turkey, avocado, sprouts, and some sort of chipotle mayonnaise. Do you really like it?" The face that had been disappointed when she ate the egg, brightened considerably.

"Yes." She took another bite to prove it to him.

"I'll keep working on the eggs."

"They tasted fine, you just need to rinse them before you stuff them."

"Huh." Sam busied himself pouring soup into bowls and poured two glasses of champagne.

"Champagne?"

"We're celebrating, remember? This was a great day for you."

"What if it had been a flop?"

"There was never a doubt in my mind, Rachel. This is a great community. Sure it has its doom and gloomers, but for the most part, everybody lives to support each other. That's one of the reasons I like it here so much."

Rachel looked at Sam, holding out her glass to her, struck by the intensity of his gaze, once again. She had noticed that the more he believed in something he was talking about, the more intense his eyes were. She smiled at him, gratefully and took the glass of champagne.

"What shall we toast to?"

He thought a minute. "Well, there's the usual, 'to us,' 'to new beginnings,' 'to continued success…'" His voice trailed off, and he looked at her, raising an eyebrow as if he'd just had a thought.

"What?"

His voice lowered and grew husky. "I've got it." He leaned forward and kissed Rachel, a lingering kiss that erased all of the worries she'd had earlier in the day, and filled her with desire. He pulled back, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

Holding up his glass, he said, "To finding out what kind of panties you're wearing."

Rachel giggled as she clinked glasses with his. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Sam." She took a sip of the bubbly liquid while she watched his face fall.

"Why?" His lips jutted out in a pout, and she kissed them.

"I'm not wearing any."

 

###

 

Author's Note

I came up with the idea for this book one night, while surfing the internet. I can't remember which article started it all, but it was about women living with HIV/AIDS in America. The idea was intriguing to me, and the more research I did into the topic, the wider my eyes got, and the more chagrined I felt. I didn't know anything beyond the big scare of the 1980s, when AIDS first hit the forefront of our consciousness, before fading in the background sometime in the 90s. So much has been done in the medical field to treat the illness, so that people everywhere are living longer, productive lives. It is no longer a death sentence. There are many misconceptions as well as unnecessary stigmas attached to HIV/AIDS. I encourage everyone to educate themselves on the disease, as well as what it means to have it. Some resources you can check out are:

 

www.girllikeme.org, and the wellproject.org, a website/blog put together by women with HIV/AIDS. Learn their stories, and see that they are just like everybody else. They helped me with my manuscript, and I am eternally grateful for their kind words.

 

Jessica from Living Positive (livingpositive.org), as well as Sylvia from hivpolicyspeakup.wordpress.com also helped me with the manuscript, correcting misconceptions, and stopping me from putting out false assumptions. These women, as well as girllikeme.org were instrumental in my fact-checking process. Thank you all.

 

www.sophiaforum.net, an organization put together to raise awareness of the disease in women, and break through stereotypes.

 

www.beadedhope.org, an organization of women in Africa, selling beautiful, hand-made beaded jewelry to support themselves as they've been affected by AIDS in a big way. The jewelry is breathtaking. I have one of their necklaces, and every time I wear it, it starts a conversation.

 

 

As always, if you enjoyed this book, please let me know! Leave a review, or drop me an email. I welcome feedback from readers.

 

Join Anne Conley on Facebook, read about publishing updates, read excerpts of new work, and find out what she’s up to at www.facebook.com/anneconleyauthor

 

You can email her at [email protected]

 

Follow Anne Conley on Twitter@Anneconley10

 

Check on her at Pinterest, to find visuals that inspire her work, as well as recipes, and more!

 

Check out her website at www.anneconley.wix.com/anneconleyauthor or her blog, www.conleycorner.blogspot.com

 

Make friends with her on Goodreads, Shelfari, Kindleboards, and Wattpad

 

Flip the screen for an exciting excerpt from Anne's favorite Pride Series novel, Discovering Pride, by Jill Sanders.

Discovering Pride

 

 

A
cool breeze drifted over the tall trees, floating down towards the still waters of a large pond, which caused the lily pads to stir. Dragonflies buzzed from flower to flower and frogs hopped along the grassy shore.

 

Every now and than, a lone leaf would break free from a branch and float slowly down to the moss covered forest floor. Soon it will be winter and this little piece of heaven will be covered in snow. All the insects and animals will be tucked away for the cold days and nights. But, for today the pond waters were buzzing with life.

 

Lacey Jordan was a free spirited woman who enjoyed the fresh air, blue skies, and nature sounds that surrounded her home in Pride, Oregon. Even though summer was ending, the fall temperatures had reached a record high. A true Indian summer was in full swing.

 

Lacey was happily floating alone in the large pond that bordered her property. Well, she wasn’t quite alone; Bernard had been running in and out of the water, digging in the mud near the shore. Bernard was Lacey’s first love, and to date, her only. He was everything she wanted in a man; loyal, loving, brave, and a great listener. Not to mention he was blonde, brown eyed, and loved to snuggle. His only faults were; he hogged the bed, slobbered a lot, and was extremely hairy, but no one was perfect.

 

Bernard was Lacey’s three and a half year old Labrador Retriever.

 

As she floated her short black hair bobbed around her face, a face often described as pixy like. Her straight nose was, in her opinion, her best asset. However, most people claimed it was her crystal slate eyes that stood out the most. An artist, who had once painted her, had compared her to an exotic creature from beyond this world.

 

A small crease formed between her eyebrows at the thought of being compared to an exotic or even mythical creature. It happened often enough; however, she was getting tired of it. To her, she was just Lacey, a down-to-earth woman in her mid-twenties whom, at this point, had yet to
fall in love.

 

Most people in her town knew she had an uncanny way of predicting what was going to happen and often even able to control the outcome. However, she felt she shouldn’t be faulted for just paying attention.

 

But,
today she didn’t want to think of the town or its inhabitants. She forced herself to relax again as she studied the bright clear sky. Today, she was going to enjoy her favorite place, the pond, which was in the woods laying between her house and her brother Todd’s house.

 

Every once in a while Bernard would swim out to check on her or bark to make sure his presence was still known. She could spend hours out here, lost in thought, which would sometimes make her late for work. She was grateful she wasn’t expected any where today so she could continue floating and relaxing as she pleased.

 

Lacey had been born and raised in Pride, and this was home. There had been a time when she’d craved to travel, to expand her horizons, and become a woman of the world. However, after spending over a year traveling around Europe, she had needed to be home again. She missed taking walks along the beach or sitting in front of a fire with her father and brothers. She had made it home only to lose her father. She struggled through her loss; her family needed her close, and she needed them in return.

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