Can your past meet your future at a funeral?
It can if you’re Liz Carson and you’re running into Gage Hamilton….
Excerpts from “Danger: Curves Ahead”
Once they were seated in the pew, Bertie whispered loudly, “At least Tony’s sober. I’d have hunted him down and shot him if he’d shown up drunk.”
A low voice from behind them added, “I’d have done it for you.”
Liz twisted to see who’d put in his two cents and her heart stopped. Gage Hamilton, broad-shouldered and handsome as sin in a charcoal gray suit that matched his eyes, gave her a wink, drawling in a low tone, “Welcome back, Liz. Good to see you—in spite of the occasion.”
Funny, but she didn’t remember him being quite so handsome. Maybe it was the way he’d filled out, or maybe it was the maturity and self-confidence he wore so well. Whatever it was, Gage was sliding into his forties in stellar shape.
And later that evening…
Liz paused in the doorway before Gage saw her. The mere sight of him leaned against the kitchen island, sipping a beer, had her heart doing double time. She liked the way he came across—all man, rugged and take-charge, but still finely honed on the edges. Clad in jeans, slightly faded and hugging his ass and thighs in the way they were intended, a peach polo shirt that showed off his tan and muscular build, and a belt that matched his maple-colored ostrich quill boots, gave him the undeniable look of quiet authority and success. Her aunt was spot on. He was just about the sexiest thing on two legs in this part of the country. It dripped off him in puddles, and she decided it might not be a bad idea to splash through.
His eyes met hers as she entered, and his smile stretched across his face, making her stomach dip in that delightful way that made her glad she was wearing panties.