“I’m sorry ma’am, this is a closed set.”
“I know. I’m—”
“If you’ll come this way, I’ll escort you out.”
She danced from his grasp when he reached for her arm.
“I’m the writer. I’m expected.”
He gave her a side-eye. “No one informed me of your impending arrival. Wait here. I’ll have to clear your presence with the AD.” He paused to look at her again. “What’s your name?”
“Tamara Josephs.” She deliberately used her married name to see how on it the guy was. Apparently, he was as sharp as a cotton ball, since instead of the expected expression of recognition, he hurried away.
Tam shook her head. Her phone lit up in her hand with an incoming text offering a distraction. She blushed when she recognized the bachelorette party pictures Denise was sending her. Tam and Evan’s youngest sister had become thick as thieves from the moment they’d met.
Tam jumped when a pair of arms slid around her waist. Looked over her shoulder at Evan who’d sneaked up behind her.
“Whatcha looking at?” he asked.
“Darn it. I was trying to surprise you,” she groused and totally ignored the question. At the moment, she didn’t feel like explaining the stripper on her lap nor the dollar bills Denise kept stuffing in her bra for said stripper to fish out with his teeth. She put her phone away. “You have quite a security team on the payroll.”
His smile was amused. The subject was only temporarily closed. “I take it you’ve met George.” She dropped her laptop and turned in his arms to embrace him. She never tired of staring into those gorgeous blue eyes of his. Poor stripper. He tried so hard. And still came up lacking when compared to Evan.
“He didn’t introduce himself, but I believe I did. He’s off clearing my presence with the AD.”
Evan chuckled. “Good. That means I have a minute to do this.” He claimed her lips with his. Just as she had every other time he’d kissed her, she went all weak in the knees and had to cling to him to remain upright. She’d never get tired of that feeling.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The AD knows nothing of… Oh!” George must’ve returned while they’d been otherwise occupied.
Reluctantly, Tam and Evan turned to look at him. Evan gave the man a kind smile. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you that Tam was due in today. She’s responsible for the amazing script we’re shooting.” He grinned at her. “And because I have incredibly good luck, she’s also my wife.”
Tam blushed at the compliment. She was the lucky one. She had never expected to date someone who would understand all the time she had to put in on her career, much less marry him. The fact that he was talented and successful himself was icing on the cake. That he was smoking hot was the ice cream on the side.
With a smile, she held out her hand to shake George’s. She wanted him to know there were no hard feelings. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m sorry about before.”
“No need to be. How’s everything coming along?”
“You arrived right on time.” With an arm still around her waist, Evan walked her to Video Village. “I’ve got a line that I need, but an actor who can’t get it out. Can you work some of your magic?”
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” Tam said and accepted the pair of headphones George handed her with a smile. Evan rolled the playback and they got right to work.
Tam figured out that the actor, a nice young man named, Troy, had battled a lisp as a child. He still had some residual problems now, but was too proud to admit it. She rewrote the line for him with fewer S sounds and no big fuss. The look he gave her was pure gratitude. He nailed it on the first try so they could move on.
The rest of the day flew by. It was all putting out fires and getting great shots amid a lot of laughter. In other words, perfect.
Evan rode with her back to the hotel since George had insisted upon picking him up every morning. He grabbed her luggage and escorted her up their room.
Tam laughed. “Can you believe it? We’re actually staying in a hotel room. Together. On purpose.”
Evan opened the door for her then teased, “So you’re saying I don’t have to find any more excuses to bunk with you?”
She held up her left hand with the understated diamond ring and wedding band on her ring finger. “I think the last excuse stuck.”
She got her first look at the two queen beds in the room then looked at him with a frown. “I thought I reserved a king room.”
Evan caught her hand and pulled her close. “I figured, why mess with a good thing? Besides,” He kissed her nose. “I don’t feel like chasing you all over that big of a bed.”
Tam giggled and slid her arms around his neck. She could not believe that this was her life. Talk about hitting the jackpot. “The last time I ran, you just followed so I’m thinking trying to escape is kinda pointless.”
“You got that right.”
“Good thing I’m done running.” She gave him a light kiss.
He smiled and agreed, “Good thing.”
The End
About the Author
Lori Crawford has two great passions—television and writing. As a child, she was a walking TV guide. When not watching TV, she was devouring every book she could get her hands on. Nearly a decade later, her love for reading developed into a passion for writing. She graduated from short stories and imaginary friends to write her first novel when she turned sixteen. It went on to languish in the bottom of a drawer where it rightfully belongs. She is delighted to share this novel with you which is waaaayyy better than the first one.
Check out Lori’s website: Preacher's Kid Productions
Like Lori on Facebook: Absurdly Entertaining
Follow Lori on Twitter: loribcrawford
Keep reading to check out more tall tales from Lori.
The Marriage Curve
(Christian erotica)
Blurb:
Jaylyn Sanders is a church girl. She grew up a church girl and expects to remain a church girl long after she’s dead and chilling in Heaven.
Zeke Malone is a billionaire philanderer whose good looks and charm can lure any woman he wants into his bed. Except Jaylyn. Knowing he's on the verge of losing her forever, Zeke does the one thing he vowed he’d never do again. He agrees to attend church with her. After all. How bad could it be?
Turns out, it’s worse than he’d imagined. The secret he’d been hiding from her for years is brought to painful light. Unafraid to call him out on his mess, Jaylyn issues a challenge Zeke knows he should refuse. He tries to call her bluff, but they end up in Vegas and married. She treats him to an explosive honeymoon night proving that everything he’d feared about the marriage bed was unfounded.
However, outside the bedroom, neither of them can figure out how to be married in general nor married to each other in particular.
Can Jaylyn and Zeke survive The Marriage Curve?
Excerpt:
"Eyes front."
If they'd been in public, he might have felt a bit of remorse being caught staring at a woman's breasts. Given that they were alone in the car, he continued to stare. He also knew it would chip away at her defenses. He'd decided that his best offense here was to let her know as often as possible how much he desired her.
"Why? The view's pretty good right here." He turned in his seat to rest his back against the door so he could have a more full on look. They were definitely bigger than he remembered. But not surgery bigger.
"What was I thinking? Why is it that you can't manage to behave for five minutes?" She shot a glare his way. "Seriously, Zeke. We're on our way to church. Can't you curb the harassment for one morning?"
He frowned and shifted his gaze upward. "Harassment? Most women would be flattered with the attention. I find you attractive. Why shouldn't I let you know it?"
"Perhaps you should set your sights on one of them." She looked his way. "And you have let me know. Again and again. And again. The horse is dead alrea
dy. Quit beating it."
Wow. He couldn't do anything right with her. "Fine. Would it make you feel any better to know that I was just wondering why your breasts are bigger?"
Her jaw dropped and she stopped at a green light. "You're kidding me, right?"
He shrugged and resettled himself in the seat. "The light is green," he pointed out. He waited until she put the vehicle back in motion before continuing. "No. I'm not kidding."
"That's not something you remark on in polite company."
"That's why I brought it up now instead of waiting until we got in the church foyer. So, what gives?" He looked at her face to await her answer. He could see her gritting her teeth and felt a little twinge of satisfaction. It was much better that she be furious with him than to feel nothing at all. Besides, a little fury made for some great sex.
He frowned as a truly horrifying thought struck him. The seat. The swollen breasts. Oh crap! "You're not pregnant, are you?"
Her jaw dropped for a second time and she looked at him again. "I'm trying a new bra," she ground out. "Is that okay with you?"
Relief washed over him. He smiled. "Aw. You really shouldn't have gone to so much trouble for my benefit. I've always enjoyed your rack." His eyes flicked downward again. "Though I must say I do appreciate the effort."
"What effort? There was no effort! Especially not for you."
He just smiled and winked at her, which increased her fury. He loved getting to her like this. It went a long way toward evening the score of how much she got to him. "If you say so."
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Thwarting Cupid
(erotic romance)
Blurb:
Carissa Langston is a perfectly lovely woman, so she can't figure out why she's always been single. The higher ups at Cupid Headquarters are wondering the same thing.
What none of them knows is that Quincy, her assigned cupid, fancies himself in love with her. He doesn't think anyone will ever be good enough for her--especially not that James "Hutch" Hutchington person. Who cares if the man is really Carissa's soul mate?
When Carissa and Hutch run into one another after years apart, sparks fly. Quincy does some fancy cupiding to keep them apart--no matter the cost. Can Carissa and Hutch thwart cupid and reach their happily ever after?
WARNING: Cupid hijinks, sexy chemistry between soul mates, and adult content.
Excerpt:
“This is wonderful, Hutch. Thank you,” Carissa gushed after she'd swallowed a forkful of eggs.
“I don't want to burst your bubble, but you've reached the end of my culinary skills.” James picked up his glass of orange juice. “Still want to hide my house keys?”
“Are you kidding? You've cooked every meal since what, Thursday? You have a pretty impressive arsenal.”
The man's face did what could only be described as beam under her praise. Quincy felt sick to his stomach.
“Who am I to argue with the world's best patient?” James shrugged in faux modesty and lifted his glass to his lips. Quincy glared at the man and flicked his finger up. The glass tipped too far and orange juice splattered on his face before streaming down his neck and chest. Embarrassment was quick to replace the satisfaction that had been in James's expression moments earlier. Quincy smirked. Score!
“Oh no!” Carissa jumped up to grab some towels while James tried to mop up the spill with the napkins already on the table. Quincy twirled his finger so the juice kept multiplying even though the glass was on the table. He grinned. It was going to take more than those few towels in Carissa's hand to clean this mess up. He brought his hands together to focus the flow toward James’s groin. How attractive would Carissa find a man who appeared wet his pants?
Carissa didn't hand James the towels like he’d expected. Instead, she wiped him up herself. Quincy frowned and stopped the flow. He hadn't seen that coming. He studied her expression. Something was amiss. Her cheeks were all pink and she was biting her lip. She kept her eyes glued to his chest while her hand smoothed over the contours of his pectorals and down over his taut belly then back up again. Since the juice had stopped flowing, her touch had turned into more of a caress.
“Cara?” James's voice sounded all husky, the way women seemed to like. He caught her hand and stood up. Their gazes locked and held. With the juice-soaked crotch, it wasn't difficult to see the effect Carissa's cleaning had had on the man. She leaned forward the tiniest bit. So did James. Crap. They were going to kiss. Quincy couldn't have that.
He looked around for a distraction. Any distraction. Ah, there. He pointed toward the cell phone on the table. He didn't recognize it so he figured it was James’s. The little gadget chirped to life. For the first couple of rings, neither Carissa nor the man appeared to hear it. With a frown, Quincy jerked his thumb up. The ringer volume increased.
“Your phone,” Carissa said and stepped back with a quick shake of her head. Finally. The girl was coming to her senses. She picked up the phone with her free hand and handed it to James.
Quincy wanted to breathe a sigh of relief now that the moment had been broken, but judging from the way the man kept holding her hand, it wouldn't take much for them to pick up where they'd left off. He needed to get the guy out of there.
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Royal Opposites
(sweet romance)
Blurb:
What can a coupon queen possibly have in common with a Crown Prince? Everything.
After being accused of attempting to rob a bank that was actually trying to rob them – legally – a coupon queen goes on the run with a Crown Prince who’d been living in the U.S. anonymously for the past year. Armed with only her coupon binder, the two flee the area in an effort to meet up with his royal head of security for protection. But first, they must elude the two very determined bank guards who will let nothing stop them from retrieving the damning video of the bank incident from the couple.
Excerpt:
“May I?”
He gestured toward the bench seat opposite her and waited for permission to sit. Feeling like a classless idiot, she managed a nod. He slid into the booth and smiled at her. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse. The man should be forced to carry a permit for that smile. She imagined it could be absolutely deadly for any female he used it on. And right now, he was using it on her.
“I do believe I owe you my life,” the man stated, never taking his eyes off her face.
The over-the-top line snapped her out of her awe. She wrinkled her nose. “A bit too dramatic, don’t you think?”
The smile left his lips, but stayed in his eyes. And she’d thought that weapon of his was lethal before. He wasn’t an amateur at using it, either.
“Perhaps,” he agreed, but she got the feeling he was just telling her what she wanted to hear. Unless he was a complete drama queen, he seemed to believe something else was behind his treatment from earlier. She didn’t know where it came from, but she had the undeniable urge to reassure him.
“I could be wrong, but I don’t think you’re the first customer who’s been cheated out of money by that bank.”
He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
Joan dropped her gaze to study the dark polished wood of the table between them. Did she dare tell him about her stupidity? That would make a great impression on the sexiest man she’d ever seen in her life. Who was she kidding? Great looking guys didn’t go out with frumpy chicks like her. Stupid or not. “I haven’t figured everything out, you know, with all the running away and stuff, but I’ve had the same conversation with them almost word for word.”
He leaned back in the booth with a frown marring his prominent brow. “What did you do? Did they resolve it?”
Joan snorted a humorless laugh before she could stop herself. “It was resolved alright. I was there to make the final eight hundred dollar payment on the loan I had to take out to resolve the situation.”
“I see.” He sat forward again and laced his long fingers toget
her on the table. “How often were these payments?”
Becoming more and more uncomfortable with the line of questioning, Joan thought about refusing to answer while rolling her glass between her palms. Considering what he was about to go through, she figured it was only fair to warn him. “Every month for the last two years.”
He gave a low whistle. “How much were you overdrawn?”
Joan bristled at the question. That part was none of his business. She was already embarrassed at the hole she’d dug herself. She didn’t need to lay out the gory details for a complete stranger. The man must be a mind reader. He reached out and covered both her hands with his. The heat from his hands contrasted with the iciness of the glass and claimed her full attention.
“I don’t mean to pry. I’m just trying to get a handle on their game.”
Joan relaxed. Well as much as she could with his gentle touch warming her to levels she didn’t quite understand. “One hundred eighty-six dollars and twenty-four cents.”
Because their hands were linked, she felt him tense before she noted the tight lines that framed his mouth. “Eight hundred for twenty-four months?” His brows shot up. “So you paid them over nineteen thousand dollars when you owed under two hundred at the beginning.”
Joan shook her head. “Nineteen…? No. I doubled up on payments to get rid of the debt faster.” She wanted to grin from ear to ear at his nod and look of approval. Somehow, she managed to keep her expression neutral. “It was a little under seventeen thousand to pay them off.”
The tight lines around his mouth returned. “Almost a fifty percent interest rate. How do they manage to get away with that? Maybe ten or fifteen percent of what you owe, but not fifty.”
“Now that I think about it, I’m not positive I owed the two thousand to begin with. It’s a ludicrous amount of money and it would take me ages to spend so much. At the risk of sounding like a conspiracy theorist, I think they held my deposit on purpose.”
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