July 3, 2017 by Valerie Ullmer
Featuring Viviana MacKade’s Story – All Those Miles I Walked – From Like A Firework: A Celebration of Love
A Message from Viviana MacKade
I like astrology. I don’t really believe in it, but I like to read about my sign, Gemini, it gives me some peace when, my husband being a Scorpio, I read something weird about them ( I literally just read this, and what the hell is it’s not the truth: Scorpio have a shit list comprised of people who insulted them or pissed them off exactly once, apparently. (but I also read this: Best sex of any sign. You see my struggle when I have to complain about him, ignoring the laundry basket?)
Anyway, why am I telling you this? Because after I finished writing All Those Miles I walked, I got curious about Scott and DJ.
Can you guess what sign are they?
Let’s see. Scott is a workaholic, risk averse, adult by the time he was 10, practical, and a closeted romantic.
DJ is a free spirit, hates waste time, optimistic, has tons of friends, and loved to travel.
What do you think?
Leave a comment with your guess for a chance to win Scott and DJ’s story, All Those Miles I walked.
At eighteen, DJ made a choice–her heart or her dreams. Neither was wrong, yet either would break her heart. She chose the world. Over a decade later, she returns to Crescent Creek and to the one regret she’s ever had–Scott.
Scott’s always been steady as a rocky reef. He’d loved once and when she’d left, his strong heart had crumbled like a sandcastle. Now DJ is back, and Scott wants nothing to do with her. If only Eva, his and DJ’s old friend, didn’t need their help. Because of her, he’s stuck with DJ and he’d be damned, she still gets under his skin.
DJ is a free spirit who needs the road under her feet. Scott is a family man who wants to groom his roots. With danger on their doorstep and a baby to keep safe, how much are they willing to compromise for love?
Scott left the restaurant and went up to his quarters. A single light glowed from the living room as he opened the door to his apartment.
Like a man who was about to face a demon, he walked in and toward the source of the low light. Then stopped.
Great idea, having her there. Great fucking idea.
DJ sat in his armchair, legs folded under her and her laptop balanced on it. She wore glasses, and looked like a sexy, warm, edible scholar of some kind. She raised her head when she heard him, smiled, then frowned. “You look tired.”
Yeah, ten to one he was, and the end of a working day only made for a crumble of his weariness. He had had enough of not knowing where his friend was, and how she was. Of calling on the past to fight what he felt in the present.
As he didn’t answer or move, she watched at the screen. “It’s later than usual, you had trouble?”
He snapped out of himself. “Some cleaning. What are you doing up? It’s nearly 2.”
“Working. Do you want something to drink? Some tea?”
“I brought mine with me, it can help you relax.”
His mind leaned more toward having her in his bed rather than tea, especially after seeing her in the dim light and in the silence of the night. He should have stayed with Jack downstairs. “I just need a shower and some sleep. But thanks. Henry?”
“He’s fine, sleeping like a rock.”
She closed the laptop, put it on the coffee table, stood.
Okay. What the hell was she wearing? He thought it a normal t-shirt when she sat down but now… It was a t-shirt, but an oversized one, so it kept sliding down and bared a shoulder. It fell far below her waist like a short dress, leaving all her sun-kissed legs exposed for him. No sign of a bra.
When she took off her glasses and leaned over to leave them on the computer, the wide collar of the t-shirt opened, giving him a peek of… Jesus, he had to go.
He rubbed his eyes tightly for a moment. “Good night,” he bit out, dragging his eyes down the hall and away from her.
“I wanted to thank you. For having us here.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. Then turned around, not caring one bit if he looked rude because she had started walking to him, and if she touched him, if she touched any part of him, he would throw away all his reservations and push her on the couch.
Or on the floor, right where they were.
With a groan, he shut his door closed.
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