Mr. Right in Turn-outs
By Tonya
Ramagos
Exerpt
Gabrielle
McPherson’s project of remodeling the old house had begun
about six months ago. It was the only house left on the block
that didn’t have the modern-day style. The other houses around
hers had either been built later or had been remodeled long
ago. That’s what she planned to do with hers. She had decided
to start from the inside and work her way out. When her plans
were complete the house was sure to look far different than
it did now.
At first she had felt incredibly wrong and guilty about making
all the changes she intended. It was as if by doing so she would
be betraying the memory of her grandparents. It had been their
house. They had raised her in this house. Her parents had died
tragically in a car accident when she was still a young child
and her grandparents had stepped in to take care of her. As
the only other member of the family, when her grandparents passed
away, all of their belongings including the house and store
were left to her.
It probably would have been far less expensive and a whole
lot easier to simply demolish the old house and start from the
ground up with a new one. She was doing the repairs herself—most
of them anyway. She’d had the help of some friends here and
there. Bonnie-Jean and Clyde were lending their hands whenever
possible as well as a few of the other neighborhood residents.
They were making good progress too! So far, one of the two bedrooms
and the laundry room were complete. The hall leading to the
bathroom and other bedroom had been next on the list.
The old house had been neglected for so long and so many
things had deteriorated over the years. But it was home. Other
than the short time Gabrielle had been married to Noah, she
had never lived anywhere else. Deep in these walls were memories
that would always be there no matter how many repairs were done.
Still, after pondering her actions for a moment, she came to
the conclusion that she deserved one night off.
She placed the book and glass of wine on an overturned bucket
inside the hall, stripped off her slacks, stockings, burgundy
blouse and undergarments and tossed them in the overfilled clothesbasket
before heading to the bathroom. Moments later, the aroma of
strawberry bubble bath entwined with the steam of the water
confirmed the relaxing soak time would be just what the doctor
ordered.
She twisted her hair into a loose knot and lit two aromatherapy
candles before settling into the scented water, glass and book
in hand. The water was a chip of the paradise she so longed
to have. A small chip, mind you, but a chip nevertheless.
She sank lower and opened her new book but suddenly her eagerness
to read was swept away. Instead, it was replaced by the need
to see the hunk from the bookstore again. Her gaze averted to
the suds surrounding her. The bubbles played prettily over her
breasts. The only thing that would make her bath better was
if he were there. She placed the book on the rim of the tub
and sipped her wine. Closing her eyes, she allowed the full
image of her mystery man to form in the darkness.
She found herself fantasizing about having those big, muscular
arms wrapped around her, her body pressed against the hard wall
of his chest—among other places. She gazed up into those amazing
eyes and instantly became lost in an intimate, private world.
In that world, only the two of them and the phenomenal attraction
they shared existed. Her focus slid to his lips, moist and inviting.
She felt his arms tighten around her waist as he continued to
hold her in a passionate embrace. The space between their faces
closed until their lips met in a kiss so light, so soft. Then
the kiss became deeper and deeper and…
***
Gabrielle wasn’t sure what startled her awake. She hadn’t
realized she had dozed off. The water was on the verge of being
cold so she knew she had been out for a while. She pushed herself
straight in the tub and was reaching for the stopper when she
smelled—smoke! Thick, scorched smelling atmosphere. She glanced
at the aromatherapy candles she had lit before climbing into
the tub. The candles had burned themselves out. Slowly, her
gaze traveled around the bathroom. And then she saw it. A fog
of gray smoke was rolling in under the bathroom door from the
hall. The house was on fire!
Panic seized her insides, threatening to send her into hysterics.
“Stay calm,” she coached herself in a whisper. She tried not
to breath too deeply. The air in the room was hazy and reeked
of burnt newspaper and heaven only knew what else. She had to
get out of there.
She leaped from the tub, threw a thick terrycloth robe over
her wet, naked body and reached for the doorknob. But the instant
her skin touched the brass she jerked her hand back. The heat
of the knob scalded her palm. Almost instantly a red welt rose
in the center. Clenching her wrist, she hugged her injured hand
to her chest. Her racing pulse hammered in her eardrums, drowning
out any sounds that may have been around her. The fire was on
the other side of the door. She was trapped!
Stay calm, her inner voice chanted. Panicking now would only
seal her fate. Frantically looking around the bathroom, she
quickly went over her options. There weren’t many. The only
window was high above the tub and too small even for her slim
figure to crawl through. The smoke was getting thicker. If she
didn’t do something soon she would pass out from smoke inhalation.
Thankfully there were plenty of towels in the room. Using the
water still standing in the tub, she soaked two towels and jammed
them between the bottom of the door and broken tiled floor.
That would buy her some time. Her only hope was to break the
small window and shout for help. She could only pray like the
dickens that someone would hear her.
She grabbed a hairdryer from the cabinet under the sink and
used it to break the window. The smoke that blanketed the room
poured out making her gag and momentarily eliminating any hopes
of fresh air. It was then that she heard the scream. Bonnie-Jean.
In a ripple of time, the short, plump woman came running around
the side of the house. Gabrielle had never been so relieved
to see anyone in her life. How Bonnie-Jean had known she was
in trouble she had no clue. She was just grateful to have help.
“Gabrielle, are you all right?” Bonnie-Jean cried frantically.
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