Sour Grapes

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Sour Grapes Page 25

by G. A. McKevett


  “Sh-h-h!” She gouged him back. “Just wait and see.”

  A moment later, Jason was even with them, only a few feet away. And that was when he spotted Ryan and John.

  Instantly, his face lit up, and his whole demeanor changed. “Hey!” he shouted, rushing over to them. He grabbed Ryan in a bear hug, then managed to fold John, as well, into the hearty embrace. “Man, I was hoping you guys would make it!” he said, as pleased as a kid whose out-of-town dad had arrived at his last baseball game of the season.

  “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Ryan replied, thumping him soundly on the back.

  “Wild horses couldn’t keep us away,” John added. “But these crowds nearly did. You’ve collected quite a bevy of fans for yourself here, lad.”

  Ryan turned to Savannah and Dirk. “And here’s a couple of them,” he said, pulling them closer. “Jason, we brought two of our favorite people in the world to meet you and see the show. This is Savannah and Dirk.”

  As though in slow motion, Savannah watched and recorded every micro-second of the experience she knew she would relive ten-thousand times before she got to be Granny Reid’s age. At least.

  Jason Tyrone stepped toward her. His eyes met hers . . . his world-famous eyes that were the same sapphire blue as her silk dress. The world around them disappeared – the raging crowd, Ryan and John, and even poor Dirk.

  For just a moment she felt terribly guilty. Here she was only a few weeks married, and her knickers were a’ jingle over a couple of blue eyes. And a mane of golden hair.

  And six and a half feet of solid muscles.

  Okay, she didn’t feel all that guilty. But she did make a mental note to cut Dirk some slack later if she caught him ogling Alanna.

  Jason Tyrone, his whole gorgeous self, reached for her hand, and enfolded it in his. His enormous, strong hands – that she couldn’t help noticing were just a little bit moist.

  In fact, if they had been anyone else’s hands, she might have called them clammy. But you didn’t use a word like “clammy” when describing a Celtic god/sex symbol. It just seemed inappropriate somehow.

  “I’m so happy to meet you, Savannah,” he said, as though they were the only two people in the world, hundreds of cameras weren’t snapping their pictures, and a thousand or more people weren’t waiting impatiently for Jason to make his way inside, so the real festivities could begin.

  “And I’m just so proud to—”

  Bang!

  Just over her right shoulder, a loud popping sound. It went through her nervous system like an electric jolt.

  Someone in the crowd shouted, “Gun!”

  In an instant, Ryan, Savannah and John had grabbed Jason. Dirk had Savannah. And they were rushing en masse toward the theater doors.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 2001 by Kensington Publishing Corp. and G.A. McKevett

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  ISBN: 978-1-5756-6726-3

 

 

 


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