Monday, July 7, 2014

It's Monday and I hope you enjoyed a fun Holiday weekend in the U.S.A. Otherwise I hope you just had a wonderful weekend.

I shared last week how Elliot met Adam and it didn't go so well. Today I'm sharing how Elliot met Zaiden. Sometimes love has rough beginnings.

This is from The Farmer Takes the Cook and the Foreman. Coming July 10th.

   While he was in the kitchen organizing last minute things, a stream of men came into the kitchen from the back of the house. They all gave him a nod in greeting and were very interested in what he was doing. But Graham pointed to the dining room and they all headed in there. Finally Elliot couldn’t put it off any longer and he joined the strangers impatiently waiting to eat.
   Absently he noticed there were a few empty chairs at the table. At first there wasn’t much talking, just moans and groans of pleasure. Elliot took a sip of his ice water, glad that his meal seemed to be a hit with all of the cowboys. When he put his glass back on the table, he saw that Tyler was looking at him.
   “The food is really good,” he said. “Graham said that you flew in from out of state. Can I ask what state that was?”
   Elliot wiped his month with his napkin, giving himself a little time to collect his thoughts. He knew, now that the questions started, there would be more to follow.
   “I grew up in Florida, but for the last six years I’ve been living in a little tourist town in Wisconsin called Milner.”
   “I’ve never heard of it,” Callum said.
   “Milner, Wisconsin. One of the craziest places I’ve ever been to,” Tyler said. “The whole town has two main roads running through it. And once you get into the town limits, they’re both one-way streets. It’s kind of like a huge roundabout. All the cars end up going in the same direction. And because the town is set on an island in the middle of this lake, a person has to cross one of two bridges, one on each end of the town.” Tyler’s big blue eyes sparkled. “Even crazier is that these roads have nothing but tourist shops and restaurants on each side of them. Tourists literally walk down the sidewalk, shop to shop, up and down these two roads. If you’re going to attempt to drive in that town during the middle of the summer, don’t expect to drive over ten miles per hour, if that.”
    “So you do know Milner,” Elliot said.
    “I actually grew up about one hundred miles south of there.”
    “It’s a nice place to live.”
    “Then why did you leave?” Graham asked.
    Elliot took a deep breath, knowing he would have to get this out of the way. He opened his mouth to spill his guts…
    “Sorry to be late. I only had a little of the east field to finish. Man, it smells good in here. Holy shit. Who made actual food?”
    Elliot saw nothing but red hair and pale skin covered in freckles. Looking further, he saw light-blue eyes surrounded by reddish-brown lashes, so very much like his own beloved redhead. Elliot couldn’t breathe. Standing up he left the room and went into the kitchen. Picking up a knife, he started cutting the desserts into squares.
    “I didn’t mean to make you run away.”
    Elliot didn’t look up. The voice beside him was deep, fitting the man’s stature. Again, Elliot wondered what they were putting in the water.
    “Would you like to help me take these pans into the dining room?” he asked, still not looking up.
    “Tell me what’s wrong.” A slightly sun-reddened hand, covered in freckles, came into his line of sight when it was placed next to the dessert he continued to cut. Looking at it, Elliot could see it didn’t have the little burn scars all over it, of a volunteer fireman. This hand was a hard-working hand covered in calluses, not the smooth hand of a mill worker who used a computer eight hours a day. It was also twice the size of the freckled hand he was used to.
    Elliot still didn’t look up, because he just couldn’t do that yet. “Let’s get these out to the rest of the group,” he said.
    “You’re not very polite, are you? Around here, we look at a person when we talk to them.” The voice now had an edge to it. The first thought that popped into Elliot’s head was that this man must be one of those sparky redheads. His Casey had been calm and cool, like a stream of water.
    Elliot lifted his eyes just to the top of the collar of the man’s worn navy-blue T-shirt. He picked up the pan and shoved it into the bigger man’s hands. “Here,” he said.
    Grabbing the other two pans, he went back into the dining room, leaving the other man to follow.

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