Home  |  Hot Books!  |  Sign in  |        

Like it?
Share it!

from Return to Sandy Shores by Shirley Holder Platt

Copyright © 2019–2021 Shirley Holder Platt

Chapter 20 - Trent

I knocked on Tessa’s door and waited. A silly smile I couldn’t hide greeted her when she opened up.

“Guess that went well,” she said as she turned away from me and walked into the little sitting room. “She seems nice enough, but I’ve never seen you get googly-eyed over someone like this. Well, not since you were in middle school.”

“I don’t know what it is about her. I met her by accident and haven’t been able to get her out of my head since. Now, I’m making up reasons to bump into her.”

“She’s cute.” Tessa opened the mini-fridge and pulled out a beer. She twisted the cap off and held it out to me.

“Thanks,” I took a drink and set it down on the counter in the kitchenette. I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “She’s adorable. Sort of shy. I haven’t been out with a shy woman since middle school. Maybe that’s why I’m googly-eyed, as you say. I asked her to have lunch with me tomorrow. I’ll pick her up at that shell shop where she works. Want to come?”

“No way. I’m not interested in being a third wheel. You go get that girl. I’ll be reading by the pool, thank you very much. Maybe there’ll be a handsome pool boy working in a Speedo. You never know.” She winked at me and drank some of her water.

“Had to ask.” I winked back. It was something we’d done as kids. A signal between us that all was right with the world.

“No, you didn’t. I’m a big girl. I don’t need to escort my big brother on his dates. Sheesh.” She moved to the couch and picked up the remote. “You mind? I want to watch the financial news.”

“Not if you don’t mind if I go take a cold shower.”

“That bad, hey?” She laughed, but I noticed that she made sure not to look at my crotch. There are some things a brother and sister just do not share.

“Yep. That bad.” I finished my beer and left her to her news show. A song popped into my head, an oldie I hadn’t heard in forever, and I sang as I soaped up. Odd, I’d already started thinking of Samantha as my girl. I took my time, letting the heat from her kisses cool in the tepid water. I wanted a lot more of that in my life. I whistled the tune when I couldn’t remember all the wo...

Shirley Holder Platt is accepting feedback on this chapter.

Would you like to be a part of it?

Sign in or join to offer your feedback and constructive criticism.

FAQ: I don't feel "qualified" to give feedback. Can I still provide it?

Read books      FAQ      Contact me      Terms of Use      Privacy Policy

© 2021 Dream, Play, Write! All rights reserved.