Read Online Color Me Bad: A Novella by Sharon Sala - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sharon Sala
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turned green.
Mike drove through the intersection, still fuming. By the time they got home, it had started to rain.
“Yucky weather,” Mike said. “Are you still okay with going out?”
“Sure. I won’t melt.”
He laughed. “You’re the best. You’ve got an hour to make yourself gorgeous, and then I’ll be knocking on your door, okay?”
She rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. “It would take longer than an hour to make that happen.”
Mike grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her exit. “Don’t talk like that, okay?”
She frowned. “Like what?”
“Like putting yourself down. You’re beautiful, LilyAnn.”
“Not anymore,” she said. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
She got out and ran toward the house. As soon as she unlocked the door, she waved and went inside.
Mike just sat there. What the hell kind of a spell had Randy Joe put on her that she’d willingly died with him? What was it going to take to dig her out of that grave?
He backed up, pulled into his own driveway, and got out. The cold rain was a slap-in-the-face wake-up call to run, but he didn’t. He was so pissed at her and at himself for being such a hopeless romantic. He needed to cool off, and this was as good a way as any.
He thought about putting up a sign in his front yard to get her attention but was afraid it would be ill-received. There wasn’t anything wrong with a gentle nudge, but he was afraid that an “I love LilyAnn” sign would be more like a slap in the face, and he wouldn’t risk rejection.
Whatever.
He stomped into his house, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he got to the bathroom, he was carrying an armload of wet clothes and was naked as the day he’d been born. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped for a judgmental scan, ticking off the pros and cons.
Good six-pack, check.
Lean muscle mass, firm body, check. Brown hair, but in need of a haircut, check.
Green eyes, still in pissed-off mode, check.
And then there was his face.
In need of a shave, but otherwise okay. His features were even. His nose wasn’t too big or too small. Except for the bump on the bridge from being broken twice, it was fine. He had what his mama had called a stubborn chin, which probably explained why he hadn’t quit on LilyAnn. He was just stubborn enough to believe that if he waited long enough, she would finally love him.
He dumped the wet clothes on the bathroom tile, grabbed the razor and shaving cream, and got down to business.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sharon Sala, who has also written under the name Dinah McCall, has more than eighty-five books in print, published in four different genres—romance, young adult, Western, and women’s fiction—and her young adult books have been optioned for film. She has been named a RITA finalist eight times by Romance Writers of America and in 2011 was the recipient of RWA’s Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. Her books are New York Times and USA Today bestsellers and published in many different languages. She lives in Oklahoma, the state where she was born.
Mike drove through the intersection, still fuming. By the time they got home, it had started to rain.
“Yucky weather,” Mike said. “Are you still okay with going out?”
“Sure. I won’t melt.”
He laughed. “You’re the best. You’ve got an hour to make yourself gorgeous, and then I’ll be knocking on your door, okay?”
She rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. “It would take longer than an hour to make that happen.”
Mike grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her exit. “Don’t talk like that, okay?”
She frowned. “Like what?”
“Like putting yourself down. You’re beautiful, LilyAnn.”
“Not anymore,” she said. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
She got out and ran toward the house. As soon as she unlocked the door, she waved and went inside.
Mike just sat there. What the hell kind of a spell had Randy Joe put on her that she’d willingly died with him? What was it going to take to dig her out of that grave?
He backed up, pulled into his own driveway, and got out. The cold rain was a slap-in-the-face wake-up call to run, but he didn’t. He was so pissed at her and at himself for being such a hopeless romantic. He needed to cool off, and this was as good a way as any.
He thought about putting up a sign in his front yard to get her attention but was afraid it would be ill-received. There wasn’t anything wrong with a gentle nudge, but he was afraid that an “I love LilyAnn” sign would be more like a slap in the face, and he wouldn’t risk rejection.
Whatever.
He stomped into his house, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he got to the bathroom, he was carrying an armload of wet clothes and was naked as the day he’d been born. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped for a judgmental scan, ticking off the pros and cons.
Good six-pack, check.
Lean muscle mass, firm body, check. Brown hair, but in need of a haircut, check.
Green eyes, still in pissed-off mode, check.
And then there was his face.
In need of a shave, but otherwise okay. His features were even. His nose wasn’t too big or too small. Except for the bump on the bridge from being broken twice, it was fine. He had what his mama had called a stubborn chin, which probably explained why he hadn’t quit on LilyAnn. He was just stubborn enough to believe that if he waited long enough, she would finally love him.
He dumped the wet clothes on the bathroom tile, grabbed the razor and shaving cream, and got down to business.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sharon Sala, who has also written under the name Dinah McCall, has more than eighty-five books in print, published in four different genres—romance, young adult, Western, and women’s fiction—and her young adult books have been optioned for film. She has been named a RITA finalist eight times by Romance Writers of America and in 2011 was the recipient of RWA’s Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. Her books are New York Times and USA Today bestsellers and published in many different languages. She lives in Oklahoma, the state where she was born.
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