about the characters, you might wanna check it out.) Her short erotic romances have been collected in
Luminous Dreams
. You can find Alexa online at alexapiper.com and follow her on Twitter @prowlingpiper.
My Midnight Cowboy
Pumpkin Spice
“Ma’am?” A forty-something man at the ticket counter beckoned me forward.
“I don’t look like a ma’am yet do I?” I asked my best friend, Rachel, as I approached the counter. “I just turned thirty.”
“No, he’s just being polite,” she said. “He’s kind of cute.”
“Just a minute, ladies.” The man held up his finger in the air. His head bobbed back and forth as he spoke. “I’ve got to grab some more printer paper. If you could get your photo ID out.”
I pulled out my driver’s license from my wallet. In the photo, I was tan and my reddish hair had natural sun-kissed highlights. I looked like the California girl I was.
I guess I’ll be replacing this and my summer strawberry curls.
Rachel leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Don’t be sad,” I said into her ear. My voice shook. “You found this hotel
and
a career doing what I love. It’s going to be great, right?”
Rachel raised her head and I looked into her blue eyes. They never lied to me. I felt my own green eyes begin to well.
“Lucy, you’re an amazing pastry chef. The hotel’s lucky to have you. You’re going to be terrific. And Wyoming is beautiful. Granted, it’s not sunny Orange County, but it’s not Antarctica
or
the North Pole like I teased,” she said, elbowing me for good measure. “I was giving you a hard time because you’re going on this incredible adventure without me.” Her voice cracked. “But leaving in the middle of the night? What were we thinking?”
I flicked away a tear. “That the pricing was a steal on the later flight?”
The man returned and I handed him my license and itinerary.
“We offer complimentary champagne in first class,” he said looking up at Rachel.
“That’s great.” I leaned toward his tilted line of vision, but even in my three-inch heeled platforms, he looked right past me. “It’s for me. I’m the traveler. Right here.” I waved my hand, but he didn’t acknowledge.
“We also serve strawberries,” he said for Rachel’s benefit. “Champagne, strawberries, and warm, heated towels—first class has everything. Perhaps I can book you a flight to Paris? London? Rome? You name it and I can make it happen. You can be in the air by midnight.” His complete dorkiness had a subtle appeal that couldn’t be ignored.
Rachel threw back her blonde hair and laughed. “No, no traveling for me. It’s just my friend tonight.”
“Me,” I said. “Lucy Baker.”
“Uh-huh.” He blindly handed me back my license and replaced my itinerary with a printed boarding pass. “Do you have any plans to ring in the New Year?” he asked Rachel.
She shrugged and her cream-colored angora sweater rose to her shoulder-length hair and exposed her tan, taut belly. “Not yet. Just getting Lucy on the plane and…”
“Do I have a window seat?” I asked, trying to locate it on my boarding pass. “I don’t mind the aisle seat, but I hate being sandwiched in the middle.” I glanced at Rachel, but she was busy flirting.
“You aren’t going to drown your sorrows alone, are you? That’s no way to jumpstart the New Year.” He winked and handed her his business card. “My shift ends at eleven. A bunch of the TSA guys and I are heading to Sullivan’s. You should join us.”
I looked at her, and then back at the man whose name tag read “Mike.” The slight flicker in her eyes was all I needed to see to know he had piqued her interest. And that was hard to do with Rachel. This Mike guy wasn’t much to look at, but he was awkwardly charming.
“Sullivans, huh?” Rachel rapped Mike’s business card against the counter.
“Yeah, the guy said Sullivan’s.” The voice came from behind us. “If you and your friend could wrap up your
Luminous Dreams
. You can find Alexa online at alexapiper.com and follow her on Twitter @prowlingpiper.
My Midnight Cowboy
Pumpkin Spice
“Ma’am?” A forty-something man at the ticket counter beckoned me forward.
“I don’t look like a ma’am yet do I?” I asked my best friend, Rachel, as I approached the counter. “I just turned thirty.”
“No, he’s just being polite,” she said. “He’s kind of cute.”
“Just a minute, ladies.” The man held up his finger in the air. His head bobbed back and forth as he spoke. “I’ve got to grab some more printer paper. If you could get your photo ID out.”
I pulled out my driver’s license from my wallet. In the photo, I was tan and my reddish hair had natural sun-kissed highlights. I looked like the California girl I was.
I guess I’ll be replacing this and my summer strawberry curls.
Rachel leaned her head on my shoulder.
“Don’t be sad,” I said into her ear. My voice shook. “You found this hotel
and
a career doing what I love. It’s going to be great, right?”
Rachel raised her head and I looked into her blue eyes. They never lied to me. I felt my own green eyes begin to well.
“Lucy, you’re an amazing pastry chef. The hotel’s lucky to have you. You’re going to be terrific. And Wyoming is beautiful. Granted, it’s not sunny Orange County, but it’s not Antarctica
or
the North Pole like I teased,” she said, elbowing me for good measure. “I was giving you a hard time because you’re going on this incredible adventure without me.” Her voice cracked. “But leaving in the middle of the night? What were we thinking?”
I flicked away a tear. “That the pricing was a steal on the later flight?”
The man returned and I handed him my license and itinerary.
“We offer complimentary champagne in first class,” he said looking up at Rachel.
“That’s great.” I leaned toward his tilted line of vision, but even in my three-inch heeled platforms, he looked right past me. “It’s for me. I’m the traveler. Right here.” I waved my hand, but he didn’t acknowledge.
“We also serve strawberries,” he said for Rachel’s benefit. “Champagne, strawberries, and warm, heated towels—first class has everything. Perhaps I can book you a flight to Paris? London? Rome? You name it and I can make it happen. You can be in the air by midnight.” His complete dorkiness had a subtle appeal that couldn’t be ignored.
Rachel threw back her blonde hair and laughed. “No, no traveling for me. It’s just my friend tonight.”
“Me,” I said. “Lucy Baker.”
“Uh-huh.” He blindly handed me back my license and replaced my itinerary with a printed boarding pass. “Do you have any plans to ring in the New Year?” he asked Rachel.
She shrugged and her cream-colored angora sweater rose to her shoulder-length hair and exposed her tan, taut belly. “Not yet. Just getting Lucy on the plane and…”
“Do I have a window seat?” I asked, trying to locate it on my boarding pass. “I don’t mind the aisle seat, but I hate being sandwiched in the middle.” I glanced at Rachel, but she was busy flirting.
“You aren’t going to drown your sorrows alone, are you? That’s no way to jumpstart the New Year.” He winked and handed her his business card. “My shift ends at eleven. A bunch of the TSA guys and I are heading to Sullivan’s. You should join us.”
I looked at her, and then back at the man whose name tag read “Mike.” The slight flicker in her eyes was all I needed to see to know he had piqued her interest. And that was hard to do with Rachel. This Mike guy wasn’t much to look at, but he was awkwardly charming.
“Sullivans, huh?” Rachel rapped Mike’s business card against the counter.
“Yeah, the guy said Sullivan’s.” The voice came from behind us. “If you and your friend could wrap up your
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