Breaking the Ice

by Shayne McClendon

  “Josie, please lower your weapon. Thank you. Sir, slowly turn around, hands on your head.”

  With a sigh, he placed his hands over his head and turned.

  “Oh, holy damn. Sal, you see who that is?”

  “Uh, that’s Max Grant…the Max Grant. Three time All American with Miami, number one draft pick, starting receiver his rookie year with the Lions, traded to the Steelers after two years, been chewing up the yards every year since we got him. Has two Super Bowl rings already. Still has a lot of good runnin’ and gunnin’ left in him.”

  “Grant, what the hell are you doing, man?” Both officers holstered their weapons and put their hands on their hips.

  “I’ve been shredding for camp. Haven’t had a damn pastry in forever. I don’t know what the hell came over me, I was going to leave money for it. I went crazy for a minute. I just had to have it.”

  Max turned to the woman who’d held him at gunpoint. “Ma’am, I’m really sorry. I didn’t think about scaring a woman alone. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  She was turned away, looking out the front windows, her arms crossed over her stomach. From the back, she was adorable. Lean dancer’s body, blonde hair in pigtails that looked like it had pink in it.

  Really…just adorable.

  “It’s fine, please go, I have a lot of work left to do. Sal…Danny, you can see yourselves out. Please feel free to come for coffee when I open at seven. My treat for getting here so fast.”

  “Sure, Josie, you sounded frantic on the phone. You know we try to keep an eye on things for you. Um, Max, could we maybe get your autograph?” Max nodded and the officer picked up two of the napkins for Josie’s Java Joint. Max signing both of them with a flourish.

  The other officer looked at Max. “Dude, use your head from here on out. This woman’s been through enough without getting the life scared out of her.”

  He nodded as the officers left, chuckling to one another.

  To the woman’s back he said sincerely, “I do apologize, ma’am. My mama would lose it if she heard about this.”

  “No worries, Mr. Grant. Go out the way you came in please. I doubt we’ll see one another again and it is unlikely that your mother will ever know.” He turned to go and she added, “Mr. Grant…” He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Take a few donuts with you. For the gun. I apologize. Goodbye.”

  She didn’t look at him again and Max found that odd. Not to put too fine a point on it, but most women usually couldn’t wait to meet him.

  Instead of scaring her further, he took a few doughnuts, dropped a twenty on the counter, and left out the back.

  Stay tuned for more about Josie and Max in their story “Time to Make the Doughnuts” – a novella about football, second chances, and really good pastry.

  Keep reading for a short story I wrote on my website a while back. I hope you like it!

  Curb Appeal

  by Shayne McClendon

  The house was orange.

  Why was her house orange?

  Vivien Rorie slowly got out of her car and stared around her in confusion. She looked at the number on the porch. It was her house.

  When she’d left ten hours ago, the house had been the boring white it was when she bought it last year and the painters had arrived with the paint from the local home store. She was gone before they applied the first drop.

  Now, she stood in her driveway in the little Eugene, Oregon neighborhood that was being refurbished one house at a time and blinked hard.

  It was still orange.

  One of the pleasant young men who’d arrived that morning came around the edge of the house with a ladder and a wave. Her face must have communicated clearly that something wasn’t right.

  “Miss Rorie? Is something the matter?”

  Swallowing hard, she whispered, “Why is the house orange?”

  He carefully set down the ladder and put his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry. Did you ask why it was orange?” Somehow, she managed to nod. “Ma’am, this is the color reserved for you at the paint store.” The tension headache forming in her temples from the loud color solidified. “Miss Rorie, are you saying this is not the color you told them to mix for you?”

  “God, orange? No, this is not the pretty, calming latte I picked. No. This is not a color I’d pick for an umbrella…much less my home.”

  The young man closed his eyes and said, “Shit.” Fishing a battered cell phone from one of his pockets, he added, “Dad is going to skin me alive.”

  Her anxiety began to climb and she cursed the stress disorder she’d brought out of a childhood she had barely survived. She tried to control her breathing, her heart rate, and her trembling. This wasn’t a situation that called for fight or flight but her mind often had a hard time telling the difference.

  “Ma’am, are you alright?”

  The grass was suddenly under her knees and she was gasping for breath. Distantly, she heard a truck in the street but she knew she was dangerously close to passing out. “Miss Rorie!” Hands were on her arm but she couldn’t get air enough to talk.

  “Move, Thomas,” a very deep voice said beside her. “Miss Rorie, you’re safe. It’s going to be fine. Focus on this paver. Focus hard on it, see how pretty the natural design of the stone is. That reminds me of a stream through the mountains not far from here. See this ridge? I have a camp site I visit every year that sits on a little ridge like that. I go in the fall when the weather is just right.”

  The entire time he talked, he massaged her back between her shoulder blades. “That’s it, think about the atmosphere in a place like that. The cool water of the stream, the soft green of the grass, the way the birds sound. It’s so peaceful and there isn’t a thing to worry about. Just lots of greens and blues and clean air.”

  The hard band that had wrapped around her diaphragm began to ease. Several minutes later, she sat back on her heels and rubbed her sternum.

  “I…I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed. It’s nothing I can’t fix. It’s nothing I can’t control. I’m sorry.”

  A large presence moved beside her and suddenly Vivien was on her feet. Turning, she took in the stocky man beside her. He was barrel chested, wearing work coveralls, and had skin the color of coffee with a dash of cream. He was very thick all over with huge hands, a few inches taller than her but probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds. He had the kindest, gentlest dark brown eyes she’d ever seen and coarse close-cropped hair.

  For his size, he wasn’t the least bit threatening and she took a deep breath.

  “I’m Jed Andrews, Miss Rorie. I’m Thomas’s father and the owner of the company.”

  She nodded and held out her hand. He took it carefully in his and she noticed how warm and calloused it was. “Better?”

  His smile was bright white, without a trace of mockery, and she found herself saying quietly, “I’m alright. Orange isn’t so bad.”

  Vivien felt foolish and self-conscious. Her red hair tended to frizz, she was covered head to toe in freckles, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide all the scars from the plate glass window her father had thrown her through when she was thirteen.

  Jed gave her a bigger grin that showed off dimples in his cheeks. “Actually, ma’am, it’s pretty hideous. It doesn’t suit you a bit.” He tilted his head and added, “I came by around lunchtime and the boys had finished the first coat. I should have known it wasn’t right.”

  “How would you know?”

  “You have bird feeders and a little garden. All your little spaces are calm and filled with natural colors. This is not a calm color at all.”

  “I should have picked up the paint.”

  “Six five-gallon buckets?” There was a small shake of his head. “That wouldn’t have worked at all.” He gave her a quick glance and she knew he could tell she wasn’t physically strong. She could fight now but no matter how she tried, upper body strength had never happened. She was gangly and too thin all over.

  Her father�
��s favorite nickname for her…“Matchstick”…flitted through her mind and made her blush brightly.

  “You don’t need to worry though. We’ll do the primer-coat tomorrow; be back the day after to repaint. That sound alright?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Jed looked at Thomas and said quietly, “Leave the ladders and stuff stacked neatly in the back. You and Walter grab the primer from my van so you have it in the morning.”

  Thomas gave a thumbs up and went back the way he’d come when she arrived, the ladder in his hands again. For a long moment, she stared at the grass between Jed’s feet. “How did you know? What was happening?”

  “I was in the Army for twenty years. I’ve seen a lot of post-traumatic stress.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Rorie.”

  “Vivien. My…my name is Vivien.”

  “You’re welcome, Vivien.” The way her name sounded when he said it was almost magical. It rolled off his tongue smooth and easy, as if he’d used it a thousand times before. For the first time, she fully met his gaze. “You have incredibly pretty blue eyes, Vivien.”

  It was strange to think she could have reached thirty years old and never had a man pay her such a compliment. It was something she’d never really thought about until it happened. She worked as the inventory manager for a large container company. Her work days were spent alone in her small office, calculating warehouse supply, scheduling staff, logging deliveries, and making orders.

  She rarely talked to anyone. Men found her boring and women found her odd. She was both but she didn’t want to be.

  “I appreciate that.” The blush was worse. She could feel it.

  He looked at her and she wondered if he saw the unattractive, lonely, frightened person she was or if maybe he saw that she wanted to be interesting, she wished she was pretty, and there were so many things she needed to know, to experience, in her life before there came a day when she simply didn’t see the point anymore.

  “Vivien, would you like to go for a cup of coffee? It’s going to take the guys another hour to finish up. There’s a little diner two blocks away. We could walk if you wanted.”

  “I…I would like coffee.”

  Ten minutes later they sat across from one another in a booth made for the big construction men that were most common here over the last few months. Her side had a broken spring and she sank even lower. She must have looked like a little girl compared to him. Hands clasped in her lap, the knuckles probably white, she gave the waitress her order.

  As the woman walked away, Jed slid from his booth and gestured for her to stand. When she did, he gently nudged her into the booth and sat where she’d been sitting.

  “Now I feel like we can see one another more evenly.”

  This time, when she smiled it was with her entire face. “You’re very good at reading people, Jed.”

  “I hope so, Vivien.” For almost an hour, he drew her out in conversation. Eventually, he told her they should eat since it was getting late. One hour turned into more than three. She couldn’t remember ever having a conversation with another human being in all her life for three hours.

  What most surprised her is what she told him.

  How her mother had died giving birth. That her father had despised her for surviving. The last attack that almost killed her and the many foster homes she’d lived in until she graduated high school. There was no other family, no friends. She hadn’t been to college but she took classes at the local vocation

  al school. She’d been at her job for ten years and most people didn’t know her name. Some didn’t even know she worked there.

  Jed listened and asked her questions to keep her talking.

  “Why do you want to know about me?” She wasn’t trying to be coy – she didn’t understand why anyone would give up their evening to spend it with a stranger in such a way.

  He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. “I want to know because you garden. I want to know because you have a dozen squirrel and bird feeders throughout your yard and there are two feral stray cats you feed on your back porch.” One large hand reached out and untwined hers, holding it gently.

  “I want to know the woman who has death in her eyes but is fighting with everything she has to surround herself with life, with beauty, with positive things.”

  She shook her head and he squeezed her hand. “A woman like you is worth knowing, Vivien. I want to take my time and get to know you.”

  A million things went through her head. All the reasons she should tell him to run away from her, that she was too messed up, that he was wasting his time and wouldn’t end up liking her anyway.

  Instead, she looked at his eyes and he stared at hers. They were steady and confident and kind and she wondered if maybe he could show her how to take the death out of hers.

  “Alright.”

  If you liked this story, read more on my website Always the Good Girl. My micro stories are always free and there is no obligation to subscribe.

  For more hot, emotional reads by Shayne McClendon, check out The Great Outdoors series.

  Permission to Come Aboard

  The Great Outdoors – Novella #1

  Shayne McClendon

  When the Harding twins book a group of ex-military men on their deep-sea fishing charter, they never expect to find the two men in all the world willing to understand them, prepared to love them through their pasts.

  Charter captain Dakota Harding has been damaged for most of her life. She refuses to let down her guard and is only close to her brothers as a result. When Gunner Cain steps on her boat with his friends he manages to pierce that tough outer shell and cause a ripple effect throughout her entire life.

  Chaz Harding has made it his life's work to protect his siblings and after a violent lesson in the evil men can do when faced with someone different, he has withdrawn behind a wall of self-imposed isolation. Shawn Clay shows him that some risks are worth taking and some loves are worth fighting for...no matter how hard it can be.

  Buy it now on Amazon!

  Special Delivery

  The Great Outdoors – Novella #2

  Shayne McClendon

  When Spencer meets the woman of his dreams while delivering packages on his bike, he never imagines himself becoming her muse. At 5'7" the last thing he thinks a woman will consider is his looks.

  Shania takes one look at Spencer and her creative side assumes all control. Unable to stop sketching him, painting him, sculpting him - she soon begins to see him as far more than her artistic inspiration.

  Love...real love...can take you places you never thought to go.

  Buy it now on Amazon!

  A Sunny Heart

  The Great Outdoors – Novella #3

  Shayne McClendon

  When Addison Hauser gives her heart to her best friend at fifteen, she never expects him to disappear with it. Working the ranch and caring for her alcoholic father after tragedy strikes, she doesn’t have much time to dwell on the hole he left.

  Twelve years later, Mack returns to claim her and is reminded why bullies ran from his best friend when she was seven. It isn’t going to be easy to get back in her good graces.

  He’s willing to do the work…if he can just keep her from shooting him.

  Buy it now on Amazon!

  Embrace the Wild

  The Great Outdoors – Novella #4

  Shayne McClendon

  When Gina Kahfke takes Knox Simon’s survival course in the mountains of Montana, he finds himself curious about her story. She says she’s a teacher from California but some things just don’t add up. Then she rents the secluded cabin owned by his best friend, forest ranger Wade Overly, and both men are openly shocked at her plans to remain in complete isolation for two years – supposedly to write a book.

  The more they get to know her, the more they want her, and when her secrets are accidentally revealed, they wonder if they will ever have the chance to give her the
love she so desperately deserves.

  Sometimes, the best choice…is not to choose at all.

  Buy it now on Amazon!

  About Shayne McClendon

  Shayne McClendon is an indie author who has received rave reviews for her premiere novel “The Barter System”. Other projects recently released are “In the Service of Women”, “Yes to Everything”, “Damaged”, “Being Delightful”, and “The Hermit” and many more.

  Shayne believes love crosses all boundaries, social castes, races, genders, and belief systems. If you are lucky enough to find soul-deep love, you should fight for it. She currently lives in Oklahoma wrangling teenagers, opening doors for her pets, and running her content writing company. She dreams of peace, quiet, travel, and always having plenty of coffee.

  Shayne loves to hear from her fans. You can contact her by email at shaynemcclendon@gmail.com or stop by her Good Girl Facebook page. Visit her web page Always the Good Girl and subscribe for your free story!

  All of Shayne McClendon’s work is available on Amazon.