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Hanging by a Moment
Copyright © 2013 by Bella Juarez
ISBN: 978-1-61333-619-9
Cover art by Tibbs Designs
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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~DEDICATION~
Thank you to all my new friends at Decadent for the opportunity to do something a little different.
Hanging by a Moment
Knights of RED HORSE – Book 1
A 1Night Stand Story
By
Bella Juarez
Chapter One
Tom Ryan approached the large inviting doors to one of the most beautiful houses in Fair Oaks. The owners, Phil and Beth Rodriguez, had asked every effort be made to make it fit in with the beautiful Texas Hill Country. So much had changed in the last five years.
A home builder getting started in the South Texas area, Phil’s budding business venture included creating a showplace in Fair Oaks, a small community nestled in between Boerne and San Antonio. Tom’s work in the months it took to complete the venture had kept him sane and from falling into despair after watching his beloved wife die.
When he finished the Rodriguez house, Tom headed out on deployment to Afghanistan. On his return, he contracted Phil to build him a custom home in Fair Oaks as well. Its design had been another labor of love. Such personal projects let his artistic side run free.
The door swung open.
“Tom! You decided to come after all!” Beth threw her arms around him and greeted him like family. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.”
Her warm welcome shoved aside his doubts about coming to a ten year old’s birthday party. He’d been politely declining invitations to Rodriguez family events since he met the couple. Today was different because after seven long months he’d received a response from 1Night Stand. The reclusive Madame Eve assured him she’d found a match and would be in touch with more information.
So many of the women he asked out on his own were either psychotic or neurotic, and at forty-six years old he couldn’t deal with the drama. So, he’d all but given up on connecting with anyone as he once had with his Karen. The dating service idea had been his daughter’s, and she’d given him the gift certificate at Christmas. Reluctant to disappoint her, he’d made a halfhearted effort to see if the magical Madame Eve could send him a second soul mate, even for one night. The email he’d received this morning eased a tension he hadn’t realized he had. He felt a lighter, more positive general outlook on life.
“My man!” Phil slapped him on the back.
Tom fell into conversation with a group of men gathered around Phil. Most of them he knew from the neighborhood. He joked and laughed as kids played in the natural rock pool. When he designed the pool, he’d wanted to create the illusion a natural spring had appeared in the Rodriguez’s back yard and they’d built around it. The details he’d labored over had paid off. The treated limestone from a nearby Texas Hill Country quarry, the native plants surrounding the pool, and the waterfall running down the tiered flagstones fit the semi-arid landscape.
“So, I understand you’re a reservist?” Jim Bando asked.
He took a swallow of his cold beer before answering. “Yes, I am. I’m with the RED HORSE combat engineering outfit at Lackland Air Force Base.”
“RED HORSE? I was with them. I’m a civil engineer, couldn’t find a job when I got my degree, so I joined the Air Force and served for four years,” Stan Hopkins said.
“Yeah, I got out when they opened up a bunch of slots for reservist and went weekend warrior instead of full time.” Tom said.
“Have you been over?” Jim asked.
“I went to Iraq a couple of times and Afghanistan once.”
“Wow! As busy as you guys are at the firm, that must screw with your job. It took Aaron almost two weeks to let me know whether or not he would take me on as a client,” Phil said.
“Do you guys do a lot of government contracts?” Jim asked.
“No mostly private work, with businesses like Phil’s.” Tom said.
“So what do you do in the reserves?” Jim asked.
“I do the same job but with less artistic license. Most of the things we do involve reclamation, rebuilding, and reconstruction.” Tom answered.
“Yeah but we have to go in when bullets are still flying. We have to build the damn runways where there aren’t any,” Stan added.
“Damn!” Jim said. “So you see some action? And the firm holds your position?”
“Yes, of course they do. Aaron’s in the same unit, and he owns the firm,” Tom replied.
“So have you had to shoot any terrorists?”
“Excuse me.” Tom turned away.
The stupidity and insensitivity of some people when it came to this war never cease to amaze him. Yes, he’d killed someone, more than one. But he never shared it with anyone because he didn’t want to relive the moment over and over again. He’d fired in self-defense. The enemy would have killed him if he hadn’t fought back. He’d always thought Karen had paid for his sins while he’d watched cancer eat away at her bit by bit. He’d taken someone’s brother or father, and his wife of twenty-two years had been taken from him, deliberately and painfully.
Tom stalked to the guest bathroom behind the kitchen. He had to get a grip before he tried to return to the party. He slammed the door shut behind him and paced the spacious room. When he stopped, he leaned against the wall and threw back his head as he closed his eyes. Fucking bastard! Why did people always assume he’d tagged and bagged someone? What a mistake to accept this invitation. Ready to make a quick escape, he opened the door and glanced left and right, but none of the partygoers seemed to notice. Thank goodness everyone had gathered outside. It would make his get-away easier. He strode into the kitchen and came to a sudden stop at a sharp jolt to the center of his chest. A pan clattered to the tile floor and he stared into a set of big dark brown eyes.
�
�Shit!” a sultry feminine voice swore.
Tom took a step back and surveyed the damage he’d caused. The woman’s white T-shirt was covered with barbecue sauce. The dropped pan held only half its original contents. Shit! The woman glared at him and shook her head as she grabbed a towel lying on the counter. She knelt and started picking up ruined brisket. He should’ve never come here. He’d made a mess of everything. He joined her and tried to assist.
“It’s okay. I can handle it.” She gave him an angry frown.
“I-I’m so sorry. I-I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“Forget it. Beth’s going to be pissed when she sees this, though. She’s an OCD neat freak from hell.”
Tom lifted the pan, set it on the counter, and returned with an empty pan. They worked together to clean up the meat and sauce from the once-immaculate tile floor.
When they’d returned it to its former condition, she stood and his eyes traced up her body. She stood around Beth’s height, five-foot-three or four, with a fuller figure. Her hourglass shape took his breath away. It was a powerful, instant attraction to a woman like he’d never known. As she placed the pan on the counter behind her, he noticed how her shorts shaped around her ass perfectly. He could picture himself taking her nicely rounded ass in his hands and squeezing while banging the woman from behind.
What the hell’s wrong with me? He shook his head at the thoughts running through his mind. For the first time in a long time, his cock was as hard as a steel pipe and ready for some serious action. Maybe it was the news he’d received this morning and the prospect of a one-night stand was starting to work its magic. It didn’t matter; he needed to get a grip on himself.
Tom noticed the nervous glance she gave him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She favored Beth. In fact if it weren’t for the longer black hair and more shapely body, the two could be twins. As she walked back, he admired how her T-shirt wrapped around her full breasts. His mouth started to water; he wanted nothing more than to lick that damn barbecue sauce off every inch of her. When was the last time a woman had managed this sort of reaction in him?
She handed him a damp towel, brushing his fingers with hers. “Could you get the stuff off the cabinet next to you?” she asked in her soft, sexy voice.
Tom cleared his throat. “S-Sure.” Thank God she’d given him something to do requiring he focus elsewhere. He concentrated on wiping sauce and meat from the polished wood.
When they’d finished clearing up the mess, she finally smiled. “I guess that’s no way to meet. I’m Emily, Beth’s sister.” She extended her hand.
Tom’s pulse quickened and he swallowed a groan. An exotic beauty, she belonged on the beaches of Rio de Janeiro. The deep glow of her olive skin made her darker than Beth. “Tom Ryan.” He closed his fingers over hers. Bad move. This temptress was doing a number on his mind and body. He jerked as if he’d touched a live wire. Her hand twitched. Does she feel it too? Or had she reacted to his nervousness.
“Nice to meet you, Tom Ryan.” Emily looked down at herself and grimaced. “I need to change. Would you do me a favor?”
I’d crawl across broken glass, honey, as long as I got to touch you at the end. He cleared his throat. Where did this sudden impulse to lay this woman flat and fuck her silly come from? As if she were able to read his dirty mind, she grinned slyly.
“Would you take the meat we managed to save and put it on the table on the patio with the rest of the food while I clean up?”
“Of course, it’s the least I can do,” he said.
“Tom?”
“Yes?”
“Let go.” Her eyes danced with laughter. Following her pointed look, he saw her hand still in his. He let go with a sheepish grin. “Thanks for taking it out for me.”
Emily passed him and disappeared into the guest room behind the kitchen. Tom grabbed the tray of meat and went outside.
***
Emily locked the bedroom door and peeled off her messy clothes. The barbeque sauce had soaked through, leaving her skin sticky and stained. A quick shower would remedy the situation, although Beth would bitch if someone needed to use the bathroom. How dare she stop to bathe in the middle of Diego’s birthday party? While her sister was playing Martha Stewart, Emily and their mother were running around playing the hired help. She shrugged it off as she stepped under the spray. At least she got to spoil her niece and nephew for the weekend. The cool water was a welcome respite on this hot summer day in South Texas.
Taking the bath puff from the shelf, Emily lathered up and scrubbed her body. She giggled when she recalled Tom Ryan’s awkwardness while they cleaned up the mess he’d helped make. It would’ve gone faster if she’d done it herself. So shy and sweet. Too sweet for me, especially if he finds out what I do for a living. Her chosen occupation was a game changer on the dating scene. It either drove men away or made them into crazy-ass stalkers. After her nightmare divorce from her junkie husband, she’d avoid men altogether for a long time. Now she waited, tested the waters, and was either dumped like she had the plague or stalked.
Since she had an art show over the weekend in San Antonio, she’d come straight to her sister’s house when she’d returned from an installation at a Castillo Resort on The Rivera. Now that all the work was done for the party, she’d move over to her mom’s house in the heart of town. She was nervous about showing her art where she’d been born and bred. Since it was Memorial Day weekend, with Monday a holiday, it would also allow her to take a deep breath before she returned her adopted home of Gruene, Texas, a short distance away. The visit to the Riviera had broadened her horizons both with her career and personal life.
Emily had done something she never expected herself to do. On a recommendation from Jackson Castillo, she accepted help from a supposed professional. Castillo and his brother, Jagger, had put together an exclusive unveiling of her work at their Castillo Riviera Resort. After too much wine, she’d lamented to Jackson about her situation. Later Jagger had joined them, and together they convinced her Madame Eve had the answer to her dilemma.
Back in Texas, Emily had received an email informing her even though it was very unusual for Madame Eve to contact a prospective client, Jackson had convinced her to change her mind this once. She could only promise one night, and the rest would be up to Emily. Madame Eve’s email directed her to a website where she had filled out her profile. She was still waiting for a reply.
Emily shut off the shower and wrapped herself in a large bath sheet. She donned a pair of comfortable shorts and another T-shirt. Tom Ryan. As she brushed out her hair, her mind ran wild with ways to torture him and make him even more uncomfortable. She suppressed her evil, teasing nature. Such a handsome man, but unlike the preppy geeks who filled the deck outside, he didn’t know it. His black hair going gray at the temples contrasted with unusual gunmetal bluish-gray eyes. She couldn’t have carved a more perfect strong, masculine face herself. A tall man, a little over six feet, his toned biceps indicated a regular workout schedule. His best feature, in her opinion, was his shy and awkward nature. He had to be married with a 250K salary, 2.5 kids, an SUV, and a 4.5 bedroom house in Fair Oaks. More than likely, his wife was one of the perfectly shaped Stepford wives mingling on the deck. She sighed as she put down her brush and touched up her makeup.
Tom Ryan, I wish you were on Madame Eve’s list of prospects. At the very least I’d have fun making you blush all night long. It wouldn’t work anyway. You could never accept me for what I am. Have a nice boring upper-middle-class life.
Emily wistfully exhaled as she opened the door and stepped out into the perfect chaos of a well-orchestrated ten year old’s birthday party. She checked to make sure the food table was stocked okay. Thankfully her mother sat chatting with relatives who’d shown up to the party and were enjoying the visit. She had at least an hour before Beth wanted to sing happy birthday and cut the cake.
“I hope you’ll forgive me.” A hand holding a margarita appeared from behind h
er. The rest of the bearer of the sweet gift came into view. Tom. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Emily accepted his peace offering and took a sip of the icy drink. “Thank you. Would you sit with me for a while?” She pointed to two chairs in a secluded part of the three-tiered deck.
“Of course.” Tom took the seat beside her and stretched out his long legs. He focused on his hands and bit his lower lip, as if he didn’t know what to say or do next.
Emily would be taking the lead on this one. In fact, she’d have to initiate every single move they made together. Fine with me. Overbearing men crushed her spirit and smothered her. He glanced at her and smiled again. Approaching her with a drink and apologizing was huge for him. It was out of character for a man built like him to be so timid. Something had happened to him and that something had shaken his self-confidence.
“So how do you know Beth and Phil?” Emily asked.
“I’m an architect. My team and I are assigned to Phil’s projects.”
“Architect? Interesting.”
Tom stared at his drink. “How long have you known Beth and Phil?”
Emily gave him a puzzled frown, “Well, Phil I’ve known since high school, and Beth I’ve known all her life.”
He closed his eyes, blushed, and shook his head, “That’s right you told me that earlier. You’re her sister.”
“So, which one did you come with?” Emily nodded at Beth’s Stepford groupies.
“None of them. I’m not married.”
“No? Do your kids play baseball with Diego and Cathy?”
“No, my kids are grown. I have one in South Carolina and one in California.”
Emily was thrown off once more. Most of the men here had younger children, in grade school. Not adhering to the standard Stepford preppy husbands that filled this place seemed to be the thing with Tom. “So why are you here?”
Hanging by a Moment (A 1Night Stand Story) Page 1