#SampleSunday: "Can we get back to sweaty piano sex?"
On Sundays I post a sample of an upcoming or back list title I think you would enjoy. Today's sample is from The Guy Next Door, book 3 in the Potter Lake Small Town Romance series.
When a summer storm knocks the power out across Potter Lake, Evonne reluctantly accepts her landlord’s invitation to wait it out in the main house. Some wine, some sweet treats, and long-held secrets unleash an intimacy that can’t be walked back. A simmering attraction explodes.
Two people who didn’t mean to fall find themselves unable to resist.
⚠️: This excerpt includes discussion of serious illness, cancer diagnosis, treatment, and recovery.
“So…it’s your half of the pinky swear. Grab a donut and tell me your secrets.”
I picked out a donut covered in a green glaze with large salt granules sprinkled on top. I wrapped my other hand around my mug of coffee and got comfortable. Then sat up again.
“Hold up. I want to show you something.”
I reached past her to grab an old but well taken care of leather-bound photo album. I scooted closer to her and opened it, flipping past the first few photos stuck between clear pages. About halfway through the book, I slowed, then stopped. Then slid the album over to her lap.
She glanced at the photo. Then stared at the photo, mouth open. “Is this you? Are you in a hospital? You had a central IV line; that means it was serious.” She peered up at me, any hint of inebriation gone, her eyes wide and wild and full of concern. “What happened to you? And are you okay?”
“I’m okay. When I was seventeen, I was diagnosed with B-cell Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. It’s the most commonly diagnosed type. Deadly if untreated, but a good many people that get a diagnosis make it.”
“Oh my God…” She whispered, her words carried on the slightest of breaths. “How… how long were you…”
“A long time. High dose chemotherapy and radiation, then a stem cell transplant from my youngest brother. Then recovery. It was a few years until I was cancer-free. Even longer to feel like I was safe, in the clear. I keep things in check, of course, but I’m well. Despite my mother calling every week to ask if I feel okay.”
Evonne was, for the first time since I’d met her, speechless. She stared listlessly in my direction, but I don’t think she saw me.
“I’m okay to talk about it,” I prodded. “It’s been a long time.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed, then swallowed again, then glanced down at the photos of me at the hospital, doing my best to put on a brave face. I was thin but bloated, sallow, as pale as a dark-skinned boy could be. And scared.
She fingered the photos through the plastic, almost caressing my young face. “I feel like I was so close to never meeting you. It just hit me that I’m so happy I did. I’m so glad you made it.”
“Would have been sad if I didn’t, because Jaslene, my partner that night you came into the clinic? She had no plans to help you. You probably would have bled to death. Or got Gangrene, and your hand just fell right off. This girl I know heard about that on a podcast.”
Evonne burst into laughter; the somber mood of the room instantly dissipated. She started flipping through the pages, smiling at photos of my family and me over the years.
“That girl, Jaslene. Are you and she friendly?” Evonne asked.
“Friendly?” Like I didn’t know that question was coming. I brought her up for a reason. “Like you and I, friendly? Or like friends who fuck, friendly?”
“Either. But mostly the latter.”
“We have been both.”
“Mmmhmm.” She gave a single, resolute nod and flipped more pages, smiling at some of the photos of me with my brothers.
“What does that sound mean? Are you disappointed? Upset? Indifferent?”
Her eyes met mine long enough for me to see her roll them dramatically. “Definitely indifferent, Nurse Dude. I sensed something when I was leaving the clinic that night. You just confirmed it. She didn’t like me.”
“It wasn’t about you. Not directly; she said I was flirting with you.”
“You were.”
“After I had turned her down earlier that night.”
“Ohhh, ouch.” She laughed. “Not smooth, Nurse Dude. No wonder she didn’t like me.”
“It’s not like it matters. Does it?”
“Should it? Does it matter to you?”
“Not anymore.”
She stopped flipping pages and turned toward me. “I’ll bite. Why not anymore?”
“Because we aren’t friendly anymore.”
“Because you decided?”
“Because she broke it off. She wasn’t happy when she found out who my new tenant was.”
Evonne tossed her head back and let out a cackle that was more like a scream, replete with clapping and thigh-slapping. I might have let a chuckle roll out to laugh along with her.
“Oh-kay! I moved in with her man, and she wasn’t having it!”
“I had already decided I didn’t want to see her anymore. I told her that the day after you came through the house, and we uh…”
I cleared my throat, searching for the words to describe the day I’d started daydreaming about my tenant.
Evonne had no trouble with the words, though. “Almost had sweaty sex on the piano?”
“I…” I paused, my mind speeding back to that hazy spring afternoon when I first tasted her. “Really?”
Evonne smirked, a saucy smile on her lips and smoke in her eyes. “Don’t act like it didn’t cross your mind, Nurse Dude. What happened when you told her it was over?”
“She accused me of playing games with her. She had suggested, a couple of times, that I should move her into that space. She was mad that I had decided not to do that. She threw some stuff around the supply room. Left in the middle of her shift.”
I shrugged, splaying my hands in a helpless gesture. “I haven’t seen her since.”
“Disaster. I bet you’re glad to have someone mature living so close to you.”
“Oh, yes.” I nodded. “Definitely.”
Then I licked my lips and leaned into her, eager to catch every word now. “Can we go back to sweaty piano sex? Really?”
The lights are out in Potter Lake, but the sparks are flying!
Want more of this steamy, funny, landlord-tenant romance? The Guy Next Door could be your next cozy #Blackromance binge, packed with small-town heart, humor and chemistry you’ll feel in your soul. Available now in eBook, print, and audio.
