CHARACTER INTERVIEW Amy Barrett  - The Wedding – Rainbow Falls

1.      Are you upset your name is not in the title?
 Not at all. I like the title.

2.      Is your love interest the way you pictured him or her? 
Or would you have preferred someone with a different hair color. He wasn’t exactly what I envisioned but then again I was actually looking for anyone. He kind off found me.

3.      Do you have any annoying habits your author did not share with us in your book?
 Yes I bite my nails. Shocking I know but I have been doing it all my life and it is a habit hard to break. I’m also not a fan of public toilets.

4.      Do you have siblings? Are you close to them? 
No siblings. Being an only child probably helped me to be the ambitious person I am today.

5.      Any hobbies we might be interested in knowing about? 
I love reading romance novels. 

6.      Are you happy with the profession your author chose for you or would you rather be working at something totally different and why? 
For as long as I can remember I always wanted to be a lawyer.

8.      Are you planning to make an appearance in a sequel? If not are you unhappy about that?

 Yes I appear in two more books – The Arrival and The Proposal and there is a rumour going around I may also be in a fourth.

9.      Is you’re hero/heroine a good kisser? 
Craig is a great kisser.

10.  Are you happy with the setting? Did you want a bigger house or car? 

I loved my little cottage it had everything I needed at the time but now I live at the ranch. I cannot imagine living anywhere else.

11.  How many re-writes did you have to live through? 

Far too many. And the more coffee she had the worse things become. It was a case of “lay off the coffee already.”

12.  Did your author listen to you when you tried to redirect her/him? 
No   

13.  Did your story end too soon?

 No but I am dying to find out what happens next.

14.  Who was your favorite supporting character?

 Apart from Craig I would have to pick Hannah she and I get on really well and have developed a real friendship.

15.  Do you expect your story to become a series with you as a recurring character? 

Yes I feel it has worked well as a series.

16.   Were you happy with your wardrobe? 

Yes I get to wear all the things I like.

17.  Did you fight much with your author or did you two see eye-to-eye? 

She never let me get a word in edgeways probably due to all that caffeine she consumed maybe she should stick to drinking tea.

Today's prompt is attitude. Look for it, if you can tear your eyes from the photo. :)



“My mother was a single parent. My father dropped out of my life so early I can barely remember him. I can almost remember his voice. Not what he looked like. My mother worked twelve, sometimes sixteen-hour shifts as a nurse. It was hard on her feet. Eventually, she got arthritis. I wanted to go somewhere with friends when I was eleven. My mother wouldn’t let me. My reaction consisted of stomping around the house and sighing loudly.”

The image of younger, much shorter Will throwing a hissy fit crowded out the idea of Clint lurking in the bushes. “Did it help?”

“No. I even peeked in the living room to see if my behavior moved my mom. Instead of looking sad, weeping tears of remorse, she rubbed her feet. When I saw the pain on her face, I realized how hard she worked. Did I ever say thank you? No, I threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat.”

“Ah, ha, I know what you did.” She loosened the death grip she had on her knees, allowing them to relax, unfolding in the direction of Will’s legs. “I bet you decided to rub her feet to show your appreciation.”

“That’s what I like about you. You’re always giving me altruistic motives.” He winked at her. Holding up his hands, he pointed his thumbs back at himself. “I was a kid, I wanted what I wanted. I saw an opportunity to go with my friends. That was my first foot rub attempt. It may have been more painful than pleasurable. A funny thing happened. We started talking as people, not mother and child. My goal was to take off with my friends, but my mother was telling me stuff I never knew about myself, my dad, and even her teenage life. I wanted to hear it. I discovered as long as I rubbed her feet she talked.”

“Hmm. Doesn’t sound as creepy as I thought. You must love your mother a great deal. Can’t say my mother and I have great conversations. Most are about how I’m disappointing her somehow. Mainly, she’s irked with me because I wouldn’t let her dictate my life since my father is no longer around for her to order around. You’re a good son. “She patted his hand, moving closer to him on the cushion.

 His lips twisted to one side, before answering. “I hope I was a good son. I would have made more of an effort if I knew she had cancer. Would have gone back to visit her more, instead of hanging out at the frat parties.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Felt the same way when my father died.” Awkward moment, she did what she did best in emotional moments. Move. She stood up and stretched. “I better go check on that laundry if I want clothes tomorrow.”

“You do that,” Will commented as he stood. “I’ll go finish the garage.”

Did he just say that? Tell her what he was going to do in her house. The kitchen door to the garage slammed indicating not only did he say that, but he did it too. Tonya placed her hands on her hips looking in the direction of the garage door. Her initial urge to tell him how it was propelled her a half step in the direction of the door. Wait; think about this, he’d organize her garage. A task she’d put off for months. It would leave her free to finish the laundry. Not a bad thing, but did he have to be so alpha about it?

Her hand went to the back of her neck, massaging out the stiffness. Alpha, huh, that might not be so bad. There were times Clint exhibited alpha traits, but it turned out to be selfish jerk moves. The results determined the trait. Her cell chimed as she moved to the washer. The phone vibrated across the counter as Tonya glared at it. Couldn’t be Will. Not too many people called her, outside her mother and Lynne. Could be news she won the lottery. Yeah, that would be nice.

She lifted the phone cautiously as if it might bite her. Lynne’s number flashed across the screen. “Yo,” she answered in a raspy voice.

“Give up, Tonya. I told you once you had a good Rocky imitation. I lied because we’re friends.”

She pressed a hand to her heart, even though her friend couldn’t see her. “You wound me!”

“Yeah, right. Your attitude took an upswing. I take it Will got your car going?”

“He did.” Her eyes cut to the garage door. His ears could be burning. Just in case, she walked into the living room but feeling visible from the outside, she moved down the hall to her bedroom.

“That’s not all he fixed, I assume. Did the good lawyer do some mood elevation too?”

 Ah, yes, she understood her meaning. “Really, Lynne, we just met. No, but he’s helping me with a huge issue I have.”

“You told him, but not me. What gives?” An edge of irritation flavored her friend’s tone.

Great, she’d have to tell Lynne. Somehow, Will thought it was best to tell. It would keep Clint from using the photos as leverage. It would also have more people alerted to any funny goings-on. Inhaling deeply, she explained the entire sordid story. She wasn’t sure how her friend would react.

 “Hmm, that’s it. I had some shots done for Marc. Posed topless on his motorcycle. I’m not sure there aren’t too many women who haven’t done a boudoir shoot or at least thought about doing it. The real question is why is he doing this crap now. You guys haven’t been together for over a year.”

“Yeah, you’re right. As you know, he dumped me to chase after another woman. Good chance that woman finally tired of him. Now, he’s doing his campaign of terror to chase me back to his arms. Will thinks he tampered with my car.”

Will stuck his head in the open doorway. “Garage is clean. I’m jumping in the shower, if you don’t mind.”

She shook her head, while covering the mouthpiece of the phone. Lynne’s voice rattled off questions before she even had the phone to her ear. “Yeah, he’s here. Yes, he did clean up the garage so I could get my car into it. I need to go now. See you at work.”

Lynne would probably harass Marc to call Will. Off-key singing mingled with running water. It was nice to have a man in the house. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Correction: it was nice to have Will around.

Today is photo prompt today. We left off with Will massaging Tonya's feet.


Tonya giggled as she playfully batted at his hand. It wasn’t as if she wanted him to stop, far from it. Sebastian, who had been ignoring the two of them, glanced up at the window and growled, catching her attention and dampening her playfulness. Clint was out there, watching.

The two of them were so obvious in the front room, practically a reality show. Her knees pulled up to her chest, removing her feet from Will’s ministrations. It put her in the fetal position without the lying down or whimpering. Although, she did consider the whimpering, briefly. His confused gaze lifted to hers, but she pretended not to see the question in his eyes. “So, how did you really learn be such a great masseuse?” Goose bumps appeared as she considered an unseen watcher.

“A woman was the reason behind my skills. She was a queen too.” Will stretched his arm along the loveseat back, and angled his body toward her, moving into the area she’d recently deserted. “Queen of our household.”

“Oh, that was nice.” He massaged his mother’s feet. It looked as if she’d uncovered his secret ick factor, a mama’s boy. Good, she discovered it before making a fool out of herself. It also explained the lack of a current girlfriend. No one would meet mama’s standards.

His finger touched her nose. “You wrinkle your nose when you hear something you don’t like. Might as well say, that’s super creepy. Why don’t you listen to the whole story before making any snap judgments?”

Caught. Her skin heated under his scrutiny. A car door slammed outside, pulling her attention to the window, expecting to see a face pressed against the window. Nothing. The foot thing tended to be on the peculiar side, but she should hear him out. “Go on.”

Today's prompt is twenty. We join Will & Tonya cleaning out the garage.



“A man in your profession probably sees women at their worst, all sneaky, and determined to strip the man of everything he has. Ranting about ruining the man in every way they can. Knowing what you know, about how vicious the gender can be,” her mouth finally stopped in mid-sentence. Did she actually say all of that? Using the heel of her hand, she hit her forehead. The offending pot grabbed her attention because she couldn’t even meet Will’s gaze. It would either be full of contempt or a suspicion that she was one of those women who turn on a man like a coiled cobra.

“Hey, don’t do that, “the shouted warning came too late.

Her foot connected with the pot before she even considered the fact she was barefoot. “Ow, damn it to hell and back and twice around the bank.”

    His shadow fell across her as he bent to sweep her into her arms. Tonya hooked one arm around his neck snuggling into his shoulder. Her cheek nestled against his shoulder allowing her to breathe in his scent, a combination of fading cologne, a whisper of dryer sheet from the t-shirt, a sharp note of sweat, mixed with a muskiness that identified the man. Ah, an aroma she could grow use to. Will worked his way through the maze of boxes, into the kitchen, and carried her into the living room. He backed up to the loveseat and collapsed onto it, holding her tight in his arms.

“Pretty inventive cursing out in the garage. Can’t say I ever heard that before.” He chuckled as he eased her onto the loveseat.

“Yeah, my paternal grandfather, Leonard majored in cursing. My grandma usually caught him at the first damn, so he had to improvise after that. He also had to put quarters in a cursing jar.  One time he just shoved a twenty in it before he let loose, but grandma rushed me out of the room.” His close embrace, as he carried her,  made her forget about her hurt toe. She couldn’t remember anyone carrying her. Made her feel all ultra-feminine. True, she was no lightweight, which might explain one reason she never received the delicate flower treatment. Then again, maybe she never dated the right kind of man. Her big toe took the major brunt of the collision. It throbbed reminding her of the fact.

A closer foot inspection required resting her ankle on her opposite knee. Hard to tell if any bruising occurred with the dark purple nail polish. The reddened skin around the nail didn’t reassure her. Will wrapped his hand around her foot with his thumb on her instep. “Wiggle your toes.”

She did. Ached a little, but still moved. No immediate care visit, but flats for a few days at least. The thumb resting on her instep moved in an oval pattern. “Will, what are you doing?”

“Must be doing it wrong, if you don’t know. Go ahead, and put both feet in my lap.”

Only one foot was bruised; she almost pointed out the fact, but didn’t. Instead, she decided to wait and see what he’d do next. The heat from his palms warmed her foot as he massaged it.

“Oh, that feels great,” she moaned the words as she pushed back into the couch. “I pay for pedicures just to get the foot massage, but they’re not this good.” Her eyelids fluttered shut as she relished the experience. “You’re, ah, too good.”

His throaty laughter caused her to open her eyes a sliver, catching a satisfied smirk on his face. Go ahead and grin, as long as you keep those magic fingers on me. As if hearing her unspoken command, he continued to massage her feet, taking special care with her big toe.

It felt so good after the day she had. Of course, there was no practical reason for him to be massaging her feet. The hell with practical. “Where did you learn to massage feet so well?”

“Well, would you believe I was a slave boy to a powerful foreign queen?” he teased. She could hear the smile in his voice.

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze and tried for a stern one of her own. “I don’t believe any woman, queen or not, would ever let you go with those hands.”

“Oh, is that so?” He winked as he smoothed one hand up her calf under her yoga pants. 

Sebastian slept under the table, giving the occasional twitch and growl as he chased imaginary rabbits or dream bones that sprouted legs. Knowing her dog more likely the later. Will stood, pulling her up with him.

Still holding her one hand, he reached for the other one. “Look at me.”

 Her eyes moved up to look into his hazel eyes. His serious expression related what she knew he was going to say. No help with the garage and no tangling their legs together as they slid across the sheets.

“Do you think I’d walk out on you because a psycho stalker targeted you?”

Yes, would be the correct answer, but she hesitated. Was this a trick question? “It would be the smart thing to do.” 

His hands tightened around hers. “No, it would be the cowardly thing to do. Women who don’t run screaming from me when they discover what I do are rare. Besides, there’s a connection between the two of us. Maybe you could use a smart lawyer on your side. Your ex may know how to break and enter, but I can nail him for it.”

The prospect of retribution tempted. Her eyes fluttered close as she inhaled. The low hum of the fridge along with the occasional slumber growl from Sebastian filled the waiting pause. She wanted to believe so bad. Her eyes opened to his waiting gaze. An answer, he expected one. The selfish part of her wanted him to stay, not even walk out the door tonight. Still. “You could get hurt. I don’t want you to be a target.”

 He lowered his forehead to the top of her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. Even know a few moves that could put a hurting on a stalker.” His toned physique did make her wonder what he did in his leisure time. Even in previous relationships, she was alone when it came to dealing with personal issues. Could she trust him? Often people told you what you wanted to hear, made promises they had no intentions in keeping.

Will’s forehead stayed on hers as he spoke. His words danced across her face before being absorbed into her skin. “I can feel the wheels whirling in your head. Try trusting someone for a change. Let me help. You’ll be doing me a favor.”

Michelle pointed out earlier today that she needed to let people help her. At the time, she thought her co-worker was referring to herself. Her failure to trust anyone was wearing her out. “Okay,” she said the word softly but knew he heard when he pulled her closer for a sweet kiss. Unlike the heat and urgency of the night before, this kiss sealed an unspoken agreement. There was a promise in it. The message passed through her warming and healing her frayed nerves. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but an epiphany that everything would work out crystallized. The kiss ended much too soon.

 Her right hand stroked his cheek. The beard shadow provided friction, slowing her fingers as she moved them across his temple into his hair. “What should I do first?”

 He reached for her wandering hand and kissed her palm before closing it. “We have to make plans for the worst case scenario.”

 Oh yay. Not what she wanted to think about, but his idea had merit. “Yeah,” she sighed heavily, “You’re right.”

The word of the day is key. I may have jumped a tiny bit, but Tonya & Will are still in the kitchen.



Will’s words made her reconsider all the stories she’d heard about horrible exes. There had to be some, especially the abusive ones. Maybe the ex-husbands weren’t always as bad as she previously thought. Any horror story she ever heard came from a bitter ex-wife. All this new insight into the male psyche made her think. Yeah, she’d give other men the benefit of the doubt, but not Clint. The man emanated evil. Her best bet was to be prepared for the worst because he would bring it.

What was the deal with the doll? Her hands flattened on the table as she pressed down to stand. Using the table made her feel a bit like her granny. Her shoulders could belong to a senior citizen. She shimmied the offending body part loosening them up a bit.
 
“What are you doing?” Will called, still seated at the table.

Tonya glanced back over her shoulder. “No worries. Just getting the doll.”

The sound of the kitchen chair tumbling to the floor heralded Will’s sprint into the living room. He leaped past her to pick up the doll with a dishtowel he must have grabbed from the stove handle. He held the wrapped doll away from his body as if radioactive.

“Why did you do that?” Here she thought Will had the corner on mental stability. Should have known better.

“Evidence. It's key  to keep it clean for the police.” He walked back to the kitchen holding the doll in front of him. There appeared to be something handing from the doll. A cord or something. She’d never really examined it after realizing it sported a portion of her favorite top.  

The reality of Clint in her house, snooping through her things, and taking her favorite blouse because he knew she liked it made her blood pressure rise. “You touched it, I touched it. Clint’s a private investigator he would know enough not to leave fingerprints.”

Will slipped the towel wrapped doll under the open lid of the pizza box. “Why’d you get involved with a P.I.?” Frustration tinged his words, but the accusatory slant remained.

 “Hey!” She threw up her hands. Why was everything always her fault? “I did not think ahead to ask his profession. Even so, I’d never considered his profession as something that could cause problems down the road. In fact, at times I thought dating a detective made me safer. Do women ask you what you do, and then leave in the middle of date when they don’t like it?” Good comeback, she congratulated herself as she took her seat. Instead of replying, Will’s eyes were still upward as if remembering.

 He finally spoke. “I usually never get to the actual date. Once a woman hears, I’m a divorce lawyer and with one of the most cut throat agencies in town, most confess to a rekindled romance with their ex. One mentioned she was entering a convent. As far as actual dates, I put I was a lawyer on my online profile, which wasn’t too terrible. I had one date, who developed indigestion at hearing the details of my profession and had her dinner boxed up.”

Tonya made a sympathetic sound. Really, he didn’t strike her as overbearing or argumentative. Traits she assumed a lawyer normally possessed. While he launched into a story about a vanishing date, she slid her hand under the lid of the open pizza box and snagged the doll.

 “I even asked a little old lady to go in and check on her. The pitying look the woman gave me when she came out discouraged me from dating. Another reason Ericka and I continued to hang out. I decided until I changed to something like Intellectual Properties Law that I’m updateable.”

 The doll firmly in her grasp she turned it over. A roughly drawn face with black marker pupils, a J for a nose and a large O for a mouth. A few loops of yarn represented her hair. The string that initially piqued her interest was a noose woven out of three individual yarn strands. Taped to the front of the doll’s torso was a small yellow note.

 Written in block lettering to disguise his handwriting was a message: Come back now, before it gets worse.

 Her fingers traced the string noose. She never thought Clint would ever escalate this much. It was probably just a threat. Yeah a threat, she inhaled deeply and put the doll down.

 Will’s larger hand covered hers, warming it, giving her the illusion she wasn’t alone in this mess. Her hand turned under his to wrap her fingers around his. For a moment, the lyrics to some oldies song came to mind, about the two of them facing the world together. It wasn’t the two of them. Will’s luck ran toward vanishing dates and convent-bound females. In the book of bad dates, he’d entitled her chapter Woman to Avoid.

Will looked up at entrance, put down his arms, and straightened in his seat. “Okay, let’s start with some facts. See what can be done to limit his harassing behavior, then, we’ll hit the garage.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? Is Lynne paying you?” His lips turned down at her words.

“No, no one is paying me. Just because I’m a lawyer doesn’t mean I’m motivated solely by money.”

Whoa, stepped on a nerve there. Sebastian bumped against her leg for attention, but she chose to ignore him as she slipped into her kitchen chair. She’d get over her mad at the dog before the night was over. When she adopted him, she had planned on long walks along a shaded road with her pet. Yeah, that never happened. Didn’t know she need a guard dog, never considering that Clint would be an issue, especially since he peeled out of her life so fast he left actual tire tracks in her driveway, instead of the figurative ones found in country music.

 The sound of the pen clicking reminded her Will was waiting. Not sure if she should apologized, she chose to anyhow. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I guess I’m not used to men being as nice to me as you have been these last couple days.”

Her words depressed her as she settled into her seat. Will’s words were low-voiced, but she still heard them. The gravelly bite to his tone caused a twist in her lady parts. Damn, the man oozed sexy even when irritated.

“You need to find a better class of men to date.”

He summed up her love life in one sentence. “You’re right. I’ll work on it right away as soon as I deal with the worse class.”

 

Today's prompt is nail. See if you can find it.

Will stood, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “Pizza.”

 The loud rumble of a car without a muffler, or a crumbling one, idling in her drive provided reassurance along with a lively knock. The door swung open to a red shirted teen holding a pizza box. Nothing to fear unless she considered calories. Forget calories, right now she could benefit from some comfort food. The teen left with a whistle at the sizable tip.

 Tonya headed into the kitchen to clear off the table and retrieve a bottle of red wine. Too bad, wine was all she had. Something stronger would help blot out the morass her life had become. The urge to feel sorry for herself overwhelmed, but she couldn’t succumb. Couldn’t fall apart while Will was still here. Too much to do, which now included scouring the house for bugs and cameras. Calling a locksmith would be on the list too. In the end, she had no one, but herself to depend on. Drunk wasn’t an answer, especially with work the next day,

Two pieces of pizza and a glass and half of wine, Will approached the elephant in the room. “Tell me about your stalker.”

“I’d rather not.” No need to talk about her need for human companionship that led her down a dark, dangerous path with her own version of the big bad wolf. If that wasn’t bad enough she compounded her error by thinking she loved the creep. Even gave away parts of herself in an effort to appease the demanding man. Outings with Lynne became practically non-existent since her friend made her disapproval of Clint evident.

 His hand covered hers stilling her nervous nail drumming. “I know. Truth is we have to examine everything to know how to keep you safe. What might he do next? You need documentation of what he has done to obtain a protective order.”

 An involuntary snort escaped her. Clint respecting a piece of paper that would never happen. Rules, legal or otherwise were not for him. “You do have a point. So far, all I’ve been doing is reacting to Clint’s latest bombs.”


“Understandable.” Will replied and ripped off the flyer from the top of a pizza box. He turned it over to its blank side and pulled a pen from his pocket. “Let’s start with his name.”

 Well, so long romance. Nothing kills a budding romance more than discussing a psycho former lover. “I appreciate your help, but I’m only going to cooperate if you let me wash your shirt. I need to start a load if I want clothes tomorrow.”

 His answer consisted of loosening and pulling his tie off slowly. In other circumstances, she’d find the move seductive. Even now, her lips canted up on their own as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Don’t get too excited,” he teased, “I have on an undershirt. My grandfather was a tailor. He’d have my hide if I ruined a hand tailored shirt with sweat stains.”

 Her first guess that his clothes were expensive proved correct. “All the more reason to get out those pesky grease stains.” He shrugged out his shirt exposing his tightly fitted white t-shirt. She sucked in her lips to keep from whistling. If he looked that good with clothes on, her imagination ran unchecked for a moment stripping him down. Broad shoulders filled out the fabric along with a well-defined chest, not the body of a desk jockey.

 He tossed her the shirt, not unlike a stripper, she thought. Shirt in hand, she headed off to washer. Talk about an enigma. That shirt removal reminded her more of an all-male review move. Not that she was an expert on that, far from it. She did see one show when in Vegas for a conference. It had been, her mouth twisted as she tried to remember, four or five years ago. Before Clint, that was for sure. The show consisted of gorgeous toned men of all different nationalities strutting their stuff convincing every woman there that the show was her private fantasy. Tall order considering how many screaming women there were.

 A couple squirts of stain treatment and vigorous rubbing prepped the shirt. Warm water, maybe hot to release the grease, she decided spinning the washer dial. Threw in some towels and panties into load, the clothes mixing in the hot water would be more intimate that she and Will would ever get.

 The sight of Will with his hands behind his head his biceps bunched reminded her of the male revue. In particularly, one of the dancers. He resembled one that had shimmied near her table, popping his muscles, and wiggling his oiled ass as he slid by increasing the volume of women’s shrieking and wild waving of bills. Couldn’t really remember the man’s face. Too concerned with hiding her own, in case someone was filming the entire show to share on social media. Corporations, especially hers, took a dim view of workers having a social life, especially a fun one. A particularly vivid dragon tattoo on his back caught her eye.

 Not for the usual reasons, Tonya shook her head as she remembered thinking about the needles, pain, and time that went into the tattoo. Her fear of needles kept all her tattoos the rub-on variety. Too bad, most of them consisted of rainbows and unicorns. Hard to be alluring with a pink pony on her shoulder. 

Speak is our word of the week, although I might use a variation of it. Last time, we left off with Tonya changing clothes as Will answered the door. She's curious who was at the door. Sebastian the dog is in the scene and intent on getting that extra dog cookie in the bag


Excerpt

The overheard words reignited the sense of unease she thought she’d put to rest. “Leave what?” Her curiosity piqued, she moved closer in an attempt to look over his shoulder.

Will spun, shoving the object behind his back and bumping her in the process. “Oops.”

Tonya made a grab for Will’s arm to keep her balance. Realizing her predicament, he reached out to hold onto her before she fell wrapping both arms around her. A thump drew her attention. Whatever object caused Will’s irritation tumbled to the floor. Secure in his embrace, she closed her eyes for a second enjoying the warmth, the stability, even the motor oil smell wafting off him.

Memory of her predicament forced her eyes open and to the floor. A crude doll lay face down on her floor. A doll, how odd. It made her wonder if some child had lost her dolly. Even from this distance, it resembled a sock puppet with rubber bands on it making indentation for the head, arms, and body. The tiny purple floral dress it wore resonated, stroking a memory she couldn’t quite bring to the forefront of her mind.

 “It’s only a doll. Nothing to get worked up about.” His reaction about the object puzzled her. Although, why anyone would leave it at her house didn’t make sense. The neighborhood mainly consisted of retired autoworkers who had lived in the same house for the last forty years. Years ago, kids ran the neighborhood, but they grew up and moved away. The few new faces included herself and the amorous divorcee next-door. Young families preferred the newer neighborhoods with homeowner associations and a commons with playground equipment, not here.

 His embrace tightened, keeping her from picking up the doll. “It’s not important. I’ll get rid of it.”

 “Yeah, okay.” She agreed, while wiggling in his arms. At first, she thought his arms tensed because of desire, but his set face didn’t resemble a lover’s. Instead, a fierce mask of determination shaped his features as if ready to undertake a mission or a distasteful task. Not sure, how sure felt about being a mission, definitely against the task label. An adventure, well, that had possibilities. His entire demeanor changed when she left the room and the doorbell rang. It had to be the doll, or the deliverer.

 The floral pattern clicked, but she needed a closer look. Instead of struggling, she went limp and slid out of Will’s arms. An unwholesome dread penetrated her fingers as she grasped the doll.

 A masculine grunt behind her indicated her would be guardian dropped to his haunches too. The material retained a silky feel she remembered. The doll still face down as she brought it up to her nose. A citrusy perfume wafted from the fabric. A loud gulp filled the silence. It took a second for her to realize she swallowed.

 Why hadn’t she immediately realize the doll’s dress came from her favorite shirt still bearing residue of her Happy perfume? When had the shirt gone missing? The color and bust twist made it a go to shirt for weekend wear. It made the girls more apparent without resorting to any hydraulic lift lingerie creations. Its disappearance nettled her, even causing her to go online to find a copy, which she hadn’t since it was out of season. Her fingers loosened, dropping the doll.

 No exact date came to mind, but she did know it hadn’t been too long ago. Someone had been in her house. Her suspicions crawled over her skin as if tiny invisible bugs leaving hairs up in their wake as they moved on. “Clint.” She growled the name.

 What else had he done? He could have installed cameras or microphones recording their very conversation. Saw it once on a television news show. Her eyes cut to Will’s concerned face. Good thing, she hadn’t given into her initial attraction last night. No reason to give Clint a free show.

 His hand under her elbow steadied her as her thighs ached from their squatting position. His breath brushed her cheek as he spoke. “I don’t know about you, but this crouching is getting to me. Why don’t we sit down and talk this out.”

 Tonya pushed forward on her toes to rise. “Yeah, let’s do that.” Her shoulders drooped as she stood. Any energy she’d felt on the unexpected appearance of the handsome lawyer drained away. Clint stood between them as real as any person separating her from Will as effectively as a quarantine notice. One bad decision made on a night she’d felt especially lonely would undoubtedly keep her alone.

Anger slowly slid across her skin replacing fear as she sank into the overstuffed loveseat. The soft snuffling of Sebastian gobbling a dog treat fanned her resentment. Her head snapped in her dog’s direction. Her index finger flew out at the animal. “You were supposed to be some sort of protection. I imagine you were had for the price of a pig ear or a pork chop.”

 Sebastian’s survival instincts caused a hesitation in consuming the cookie. It could be a thoughtful interval. On a normal day, his momentary stop she'd label regret, but not today. No today, was the no good rotten day were everything went wrong. Technically, things had been wrong for a while. Unfortunately, today threw the spotlight on it. The doorbell rang. What random hell now!

Today's prompt is stairs. It may be in a different form. See if you can find it. I skipped a few sections, but Tonya and Will are in the house together. Will suprises her by admitting he knows she has a stalker. 



EXCERPT
A sound between a snort and a cough emanated from him as he folded his arms behind his head and stretched his long legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “Ya’ know they don’t allow any stupid boys into law school.” His eyes rolled up a bit, and then he coughed for real.

 “I think I should clarify that statement. Plenty of stupid boys get into law school, but they don’t have the smarts or determination to pass the bar. There’s only so much money and Daddy’s connections can do as far as pushing them up the legal staircase.”

 He held up one finger stalling what she was going to say,

 “I bet you were going to mention a certain local politician. Never mind. The example wasn’t a good one. Let’s just say I’m smart enough to realize you’re on the edge about something. Noticed whenever the phone chimes you tend to jump. You’re worried about your job, but Lynne insisted you’re the hardest worker in the entire company. She may have mentioned a deadbeat boyfriend too.”

 The words, which one, almost popped out of her mouth. “She did?”

 A heads up would have been nice on that one. “Why did she do that?”

 Will reached for her hand intertwining their fingers. He studied the joined hands as he spoke. “I think she was trying to encourage me in a backhanded sort of way. I mention something about how you wouldn’t be interested in me.”

Oh no, she could imagine the scene all too well. Someone else might have played it more aloof. Encouraging the man to shoot for the moon and he’s still end up among the stars. The combination of Marc and Lynne listing bad relationships or dubious choices she’d made probably made her sound like a four-star loser. The truth is they didn’t even know the worst of it.

 “You must think I’m a mess.” Her first instinct was to go lock herself in the bathroom, but eventually she’d have to come out. “Friends,” she grumbled more to herself. “I told her I liked you.”

 “I know.” Will brought their joined hands up, tucking his under to brush a light kiss across her knuckles. “I like you too. She didn’t say anything bad. The stalking thing I figured out on my own. With all the questions about blackmail, involving photos and emails, I knew had to be about you. The car was a definite cheap shot.”

 Her urge to hide vanished as he spoke. In his gorgeous soothing voice, he made it sound as if everything would work out. He brought her hand up for another lingering kiss allowing his tongue to slip out and lick between her fingers. The unexpected sensation tickled, made her forget about everything, but living in the moment.

 The doorbell rang No loud pizza delivery car idling in her driveway. Will stood and motioned her back to the bedroom. “Go get changed.”

 Something wasn’t right on the other side of the door. Sebastian stopped in his efforts to reach the dog treat bag and glanced at the door. A reluctant growl was his only response so mesmerized by the possibility of a snack. As the homeowner, she should open the door. Free-floating anxiety pushed her toward the bedroom more than Will’s words.

 What kind of person allowed Will to handle what could be a messy situation? A tired person. Could be a dedicated church member inviting her to their store front church, possibly the FED EX man delivering a gourmet omelet pan that a late night infomercial convinced her she needed.

The door opened and closed, but no voices. The thought of Clint standing on her porch made her tear off her dress forgetting the side zipper and ripping it in the process. Good riddance. A black V-neck t-shirt and black yoga pants replaced it. Her outfit could serve for yoga, poetry slam, or if she chose a life of cat burglary. Tonight, it would work as she entertained a surprisingly complex man.

Barefoot she padded down the hallway unsure what she’d find in the living room. Sebastian had the white treat bag pinned between his two front paws and was in the process of shredding it. It surprised her that Will would let him.

His back was to her and his head bent. His attention focused on something in his hands. A delivery box normally wouldn’t fascinate the average person. Unless, the mystery of a woman on the verge of losing her job ordering unneeded gourmet cooking tools captivated him.  

He grumbled to himself, unaware of her entrance. “What asshole leaves something like this?”