by Leger, Lori
Copyright © 2016 Lori Leger
ISBN-10: 1-940305-40-3
ISBN-13: 978-1-940305-40-0
www.lorilegerauthor.com
These stories are complete works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be recorded, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or audial without permission in writing from Lori Leger.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Some Day Somebody
SS-Blurb
SS-MAP
SS-PROLOGUE
SS-CHAPTER 1
SS-CHAPTER 2
SS-CHAPTER 3
SS-CHAPTER 4
SS-CHAPTER 5
SS-CHAPTER 6
SS-CHAPTER 7
SS-CHAPTER 8
SS-CHAPTER 9
SS-CHAPTER 10
SS-CHAPTER 11
SS-CHAPTER 12
SS-CHAPTER 13
SS-CHAPTER 14
SS-CHAPTER 15
SS-CHAPTER 16
SS-CHAPTER 17
SS-CHAPTER 18
SS-CHAPTER 19
SS-CHAPTER 20
SS-CHAPTER 21
SS-CHAPTER22
SS-CHAPTER 23
SS-CHAPTER 24
SS-CHAPTER 25
SS-EPILOGUE
Last First Kiss
LFK-Blurb
LFK-Map
LFK-CHAPTER 1
LFK-CHAPTER 2
LFK-CHAPTER 3
LFK-CHAPTER 4
LFK-CHAPTER 5
LFK-CHAPTER 6
LFK-CHAPTER 7
LFK-CHAPTER 8
LFK-CHAPTER 9
LFK-CHAPTER 10
LFK-CHAPTER 11
LFK-CHAPTER 12
LFK-CHAPTER 13
LFK-CHAPTER 14
LFK-CHAPTER 15
LFK-CHAPTER 16
LFK-CHAPTER 17
LFK-CHAPTER 18
LFK-CHAPTER 19
LFK-CHAPTER 20
LFK-CHAPTER 21
LFK-CHAPTER 22
LFK-CHAPTER 23
LFK-CHAPTER 24
LFK-CHAPTER 25
LFK-CHAPTER 26
LFK-CHAPTER 27
LFK-CHAPTER 28
LFK-EPILOGUE
Hart’s Desire
HD-Blurb
HD-PROLOGUE
HD-CHAPTER 1
HD-CHAPTER 2
HD-CHAPTER 3
HD-CHAPTER 4
HD-CHAPTER 5
HD-CHAPTER 6
HD-EPILOGUE
Brown Eyed Girl
BEG-Blurb
BEG-Cajun French Terminology
BEG-Map
BEG-PROLOGUE
BEG-CHAPTER 1
BEG-CHAPTER 2
BEG-CHAPTER 3
BEG-CHAPTER 4
BEG-CHAPTER 5
BEG-CHAPTER 6
BEG-CHAPTER 7
BEG-CHAPTER 8
BEG-CHAPTER 9
BEG-CHAPTER 10
BEG-CHAPTER 11
BEG-CHAPTER 12
BEG-CHAPTER 13
BEG-CHAPTER 14
BEG-CHAPTER 15
BEG-CHAPTER 16
BEG-CHAPTER 17
BEG-CHAPTER 18
BEG-CHAPTER 19
BEG-CHAPTER 20
BEG-CHAPTER 21
Heaven In Your Eyes
HIYE-Blurb
HIYE-MAP
HIYE-CHAPTER 1
HIYE-CHAPTER 2
HIYE-CHAPTER 3
HIYE-CHAPTER 4
HIYE-CHAPTER 5
HIYE-CHAPTER 6
HIYE-CHAPTER 7
HIYE-CHAPTER 8
HIYE-CHAPTER 9
HIYE-CHAPTER 10
HIYE-CHAPTER 11
HIYE-CHAPTER 12
HIYE-CHAPTER 13
HIYE-CHAPTER 14
HIYE-CHAPTER 15
HIYE-CHAPTER 16
HIYE-CHAPTER 17
HIYE-CHAPTER 18
HIYE-CHAPTER 19
HIYE-CHAPTER 20
HIYE-CHAPTER 21
HIYE-CHAPTER 22
HIYE-CHAPTER 23
Other Work by Lori Leger
Dedication
About the Author
Blurb for Some Day Somebody
Two men want her. One of them wants her dead.
Carrie Jeansonne is a single mother with a brand new career. She craves stability. What she gets is a series of increasingly disturbing phone calls that keep her guessing. She’s tempted to dismiss the calls as harmless threats from her disgruntled ex-husband. Eventually, she’s forced to consider they may be far more ominous.
Sam Langley is newly divorced and knocking on forty, with nothing to look forward to. When the former office clown turned grouch clashes with Carrie, it seems the two will forever be at odds. Patience has never been his forte, but his heart tells him she’d be worth the wait.
As friendships transform into something more serious, the calls cross over into dangerously ugly territory. Carrie’s concern turns to panic at a terrifying discovery.
Late July, 2000
Lafayette, Louisiana
The woman approached from the sidewalk, unaware she’d peaked his interest. He’d been observing her for weeks now. Early to mid-thirties, five-foot-five, 125 pounds, he’d guess. He gave her plenty of room to pass, only turning his head at the last second to catch her scent. Eyes closed behind his shades, he breathed her in, absorbed her aroma into his lungs.
Nice.
He wasn’t familiar with the scent, but he knew it was the blend of whatever perfume she wore with her own unique essence. He ground his teeth in an effort to stem the urge threatening to overwhelm him—dark and primal, begging to be released. It had been too damn long since it had seen the light of day.
He was close, dangerously close to seeing his latest plan put into action. He’d chosen this next victim carefully, solely because of her condition. He realized her senses would be heightened, and that intrigued him, made him wish for the days to fly by so he could get to it. By the time she realized her life was in danger, he’d already have her isolated. He loved being alone with them. Loved having the freedom to do whatever he wanted. For a short while, he was their Lord and Master. They did his bidding for a chance to live.
To date, none had survived.
Two days later,
Gardiner, Louisiana
Damn the bad luck.
Carrie Jeansonne groaned at the sight of her soon-to-be ex-husband.
There he stood in all his conceited glory, the dark-eyed Cajun boy she’d been fool enough to fall for. He leaned casually against her car door, smirking and smug, like he didn’t have one thing better to do than bug the hell out of her. His tight jeans hugged lean hips while his T-shirt—tight, white, and two sizes too small—outlined the perfect torso he was so damned proud of.
She clenched her teeth and groaned inwardly. “I don’t have time for your crap today, Dave.” She shifted her armload of groceries, clutched her keys in one hand like she’d learned in self-defense class, in case she’d need to knock some sense into him. He didn’t move a muscle.
She struggled not to smash the bread, while trying to keep the contents of her purse from spilling onto concrete hot enough to blister bare feet. “What do you want?” She tapped the toe of her low-heeled pumps, falling into rhythm with an old Zeppelin tune blasting from the sound system of a passing car.
Silence.
Carrie hefted one bag in an awkw
ard attempt to check her watch. “Look, I hate to interrupt your dramatic pause-for-effect, but I have to pick up our daughters before I can go home to cook.” Keys jingled from one finger as she shifted her bags from one aching arm to another.
God’s gift to women graced her with words. “We need to talk, Babe.”
Carrie’s stomach soured at the sound of the endearment aimed at her. “I don’t have time, and I’m not your babe.” She wiped the sweat already forming on her forehead. In less than a minute, she’d migrated from air-conditioned-comfortable to hot-as-hell. It didn’t take long for her fair skin to betray her by turning sun-kissed pink. Heat and humidity were not her friends. “I need to go.”
“You need to rethink this divorce.” He glared at her from lowered lids, his black eyes daring her to talk back. “You know you can’t do this on your own.”
She sent up a silent prayer for a sensible way out as an older couple approached. The old man, who had served during WWII alongside her father, stopped to stare, seeming to assess the situation. She watched him nod as his wife quietly reminded him of Carrie’s parentage.
He raised an eyebrow that could have doubled as a fuzzy caterpillar. “Is there a problem here, young lady?”
Dave spoke, his voice tight and contained. “I’m speaking to my wife.”
The man shot a hard glare in Dave’s direction. “Are you a young lady?”
“No, sir.”
“Then I wasn’t talking to you, was I?”
Dave leaned in close to Carrie, his breath hot on her face, and spoke in a steely whisper. “Don’t you do it.”
Carrie anchored her gaze on Dave as she spoke, too apprehensive of the consequences to lose sight of him. “Mr. Bubby, could you ask someone to call the police for me?”
The man grunted while leaning on his walking cane. “If I were twenty years younger I’d take care of him for you myself, hon.” He grabbed hold of the door and turned to shake his cane at Dave. “You’re lucky her dad isn’t still around. In his younger days, he would have whipped your ass good, boy.”
Carrie grinned, watching the old man disappear into the store, before Dave’s comment jarred her to the present.
“You bitch.”
She gave her soon-to-be-ex-husband a smug look, part satisfaction, part justified anger, bordering on devilish amusement. “That’s what happens when you go public with private business.” Carrie heard the pop of his jaw as it tightened, then saw him relax in reluctant acceptance.
Dave took a step back and gave her appearance a prolonged perusal. “Why didn’t you look this good when we were married?”
“Why are you still an idiot?” Her tone, dry as a piece of unbuttered toast.
“You’re looking hot these days, Carrie.”
“I look the same, Dave. It’s just that I’m the shiny toy dangling just out of your reach.” Carrie leaned forward to invade his space. “You’re the dog who always wants what he can’t have.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Are you screwing around already?”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You’re looking good for somebody; it sure as hell ain’t me. Besides, you must want it by now,” he goaded, casting a lustful gaze over her ample curves.
“It?”
He nodded.
“Trust me, David, whatever it is that you think I want, you don’t have.”
“Who does?”
“Not your business.”
He closed in on her, hot breath in her face once more, his tone low and dangerous. “You’ll never know another man, if I can help it.”
She jerked away, overpowered by a repulsive mixture of cologne, cigarette smoke, and beer. “Get away from me. You smell like a bar, and I’m not afraid of your threats anymore.”
He cupped her chin roughly. “More of a promise than a threat.”
Carrie shied from his touch, ignoring the chill his words caused. She clucked her tongue as one of the town’s black and white units made a U-turn on the boulevard and hit the lights. “They’re hee-erre.” She stood her ground until the cruiser carrying two Gardiner policemen pulled up to the store.
The Chief of Police hitched his jeans and harrumphed, sounding somewhat like an outboard boat motor. Rob LeDoux stood an impressive six-feet-two inches and, even in his mid-forties, came across as solid as a brick wall. In his prime he had been a hell of a linebacker for Gardiner High.
He made one final adjustment to his navy blue cap and approached. “Carrie.” He gave her a light nod.
“Hey, Rob. I see you survived the slumber party. I’m on my way to pick up Lauren and Gretchen from your place.” She smiled at the Chief, whose daughter had been friends with her girls since first grade.
Rob glanced at his watch. “Yep, they might be awake by now. When I called at noon, Mona said Abbie and your twins were still asleep.” He focused a scowl on Dave. “So what’s the problem?”
Carrie jerked her head toward Dave. “He won’t let me by.”
“We need to talk,” Dave growled.
“We’re done talking.”
Before Dave could respond, the big man in uniform clasped his shoulder in an iron grip, giving him a back-the-hell-off glare only a fool would ignore. “Get her statement, Tim.”
The younger officer accompanying Rob stayed behind to question her. He relieved her of the grocery bags. “Ma’am, are you hurt?”
Carrie unlocked her car and popped the trunk. “Just inconvenienced.”
The officer placed the bags into the trunk and slammed it shut. “What’s his excuse for bothering you?”
“Our divorce is finalizing soon, and he’s not happy about it.” She peered around the guy’s well-developed biceps to keep an eye on Dave.
“Maybe he thinks marriage is too important to walk away so easily.”
Carrie whipped her head around to face the officer, a good-looking guy in his late twenties to early thirties, well-groomed and muscular. His hunky looks did nothing to quell her irritation at his judgmental comment. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“If you were, you’d know how many times he’s walked away in the last eighteen years.”
The officer turned to scrutinize Dave. Carrie could tell the moment his opinion morphed from desperate husband to perpetrator. He faced her again. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Maybe you’re better off without him.”
Carrie didn’t falter, still too full of heart-pumping adrenaline to back down from anyone. “Maybe you’d be better off not jumping to conclusions before you get the whole story.”
He smiled, cocked his head slightly before giving her a quick nod. “You may be right.”
A slamming truck door had her pulling her attention from the young officer’s gaze to see Dave tear out of the parking lot as if he was late for a fire sale at a whorehouse.
Chief Rob approached her. “He won’t give you any more trouble.”
She raised her hand to block the sun’s glare from her eyes and squinted up at her old friend. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
The chief pulled a plastic wrapped toothpick from his shirt pocket. “If he does inside city limits, I’ll find his ass.” He popped the pick in his mouth then pulled a business card out of his wallet to write something on the back before handing it to her. “As soon as I get back to my desk, I’ll call the Sheriff’s office and fill them in. You call this guy if you have any trouble outside of town.”
Carrie glanced at the card then put it in her wallet. “Thanks, Rob, and—” She turned to squint at the other officer’s nametag. “Mr. Hardin.”
The younger officer touched the tip of his cap and gave a little nod, like he knew her. “That’d be Tim, ma’am.”
She cringed in mock horror at the label. “I wish you’d quit calling me that. I’m not a ma’am. Mymother is a ma’am.”
His gaze grew somber. “It’s not an age thing, but a gender thing for me, I assure you.”
>
“It still makes me feel old.” She thanked them both and stepped into her car.
She parked her sedan in front of a wood-frame home and tapped on her horn.
Mona LeDoux came to the door and waved, calling to her from the front door. “I’ll send them out.”
Carrie nodded, then settled back to wait for her girls. She stared out at Mona Ledoux’s collection of garden gnomes. What in hell would she have to look forward to for the rest of her life? No husband to bring her down for a start. She’d have sole responsibility for herself and her kids—nobody to blame but herself if things didn’t work out.
She allowed her head to rest on the back of the seat and closed her eyes for a moment to consider the ‘Dave situation’. Over the past six months of their separation, he’d made some halfhearted attempts to get her back, but she’d heard all his empty promises before. He’d still be the unfaithful, controlling, unsatisfied man he’d always been. Would he continue to cause trouble for her once the divorce was final? Her rental would be ready to move into January first and she was primed to be on her own.
She wasn’t afraid of him. For all his bluster, Dave was harmless, but she was tired of trying to avoid him. She wanted to fast forward a few months to when he’d already have someone else so he’d leave her the hell alone.
It had her wondering what she’d be doing six months from now. She adjusted the rearview so she could see herself. Carrie grimaced as she wiped a smudge of mascara from the corner of one eye. “I won’t be with a man, that’s for damn sure. Dave cured me of that for good.”
What baffled her was the way her almost-ex had fought this divorce every step of the way. His attempts to win her back had grown more desperate.
Carrie rubbed her eyes, exhausted from the hour commute after a long workday. She yawned, wishing there were good job opportunities closer to home for computer drafters. As long as she lived in Gardiner, it was a given that she’d be stuck on the road two hours a day, five days a week, for decades to come. It exhausted her just thinking about it. Her mother had suggested that she move closer to her work, but how could she uproot her kids in the midst of a divorce? Her mom’s words from their last discussion came back to her. “Carrie, children are resilient. We relocated twice when you kids were young, and you all survived.”
“But our parent’s weren’t going through a divorce.” She shook her head, readjusting her mirror.
Carrie tightened her grip on the steering wheel, recalling her husband’s hateful words. “You know you can’t do this on your own.” The comment ate at her, made long-dormant feelings of inadequacy rise to the surface like dead fish in a stagnant pond. Feelings she thought she’d buried once she’d received her college degree. She’d earned it, fought for it by defying Dave’s demands she stay home and be just a wife and mother. He’d always said it like there was no effort involved. As though the years she spent raising children and tending to the household took little effort—but all she could handle.