I wrote and thought so much about His Midnight Sun, the last book in the Crescent Creek Series, that I ended up missing the couple who started it all, DJ and Scott. It was such a nice story to write and if you follow me and the interviews I gave, you know that if Aidan and I understand each other (in a very screwed up way), DJ is my favorite heroine.
Her humor, the way she recognizes what she needed (even though what that was had to be found still) and accepted to pay the hight price she had to pay for it. It really broke her heart but didn’t stop her.
So here’s a bit of it, I hope you’ll give DJ and Scott a chance.
Born ready, my ass, DJ thought the morning after, as she drove for the third time around the block where his restaurant was. She wouldn’t even start thinking about the times she’d tried in the past days. Her parents were still home when she’d arrived, so she’d had a moment of relief from the constant pain that plagued her come back–Scott Beckett. The thought of him had started hammering again when her parents had left for their case, and there was no sign of it getting quieter.
It would be so, so easy.
Communication was her thing, after all. Walk to him, and tell him, I am sorry. Just that easy. But it couldn’t be, of course, because he was Scott.
If only she’d met someone in all her travels, only one man, who’d filled up her stupid heart like Scott had. Someone who’d made her happy just by sitting with her on the sand. Simply because he was hers.
She stomped her feet on the floor of her car, slapped the steering wheel too hard. Then cursed, because it hurt as much as the thought of not being able to face him.
DJ gritted her teeth. “That’s it,” she said, and whipped into a parking spot right in front of the restaurant’s entrance. She got out of the car, slammed the door. Got in again, killed the engine she’d forgotten, and took her purse. Hated herself when her hand stayed on the entrance’s door handle a heartbeat too long. She pushed it open with a hiss, walked inside.
Nobody could say the man didn’t have taste. Like the first time she’d stepped into Scott’s, she had no trouble giving him the room, with its soft tones and furniture of light wood, was perfect. Classy, but not uptight. Stylish, but welcoming. A couple could have a first-date here and be happy just as much as a family of 4.
Way too early for lunch, the restaurant was empty except for a tiny woman sitting at a table, filing paperwork with a laptop in front of her. She raised her head, her eyes big for the surprise. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“Hi, is Scott here?”
“In the kitchen, prepping for lunch.” The girl got up. “I’ll see if–”
“No,” DJ hurried and tried to soothe the edge in her voice. “Don’t worry. I… I’ll find him.”
The last thing she wanted was for him to have the smallest chance to boot her out.
She crossed the room and opened the kitchen door.
The Bobby Bones Show was on the radio, laughs from the speakers mixed with those of an older man she didn’t recognize. And Scott’s. The sound rippled through her, splashed into the bottom of her belly. How much she’d missed his laugh, low, and earthy, and precious like a rare gem.
He stood in front of a counter wearing a battered black T-shirt, a rolled blue bandana secured on his forehead. He glanced her way, returned his attention to whatever he was chopping.
Then stopped dead. His blue eyes shot not to her, but right in front of him; Scott laid down the knife; rested both his fists on the counter.
“I… umh… I need to check on the…in the dining area,” the other guy said catching the room’s sudden mood swing.
“Stay,” Scott ordered. “She’s on her way out.”
“The hell I am.” DJ took a step further into the kitchen. “I know what I put you through,” she said, knowing time wasn’t her friend today and she had to push the point as quickly as possible.
“No, you don’t,” he stated quietly, not moving his gaze from the wall in front of him.
“Shut up for one second and listen. I do know, because I put myself through the same.”
“Really? Then you’re stupid, on top of everything else.”
“I was young and scared,” she hissed, briefly recording the older man leaving the room despite Scott’s order.
He turned to face her, resting one hip on the counter and crossing his arms on his chest. “Bullshit. After the test results, there was nothing left to be scared about.”
“I was scared of you,” she breathed out, regretting her words the moment they were uttered.
He said nothing, but one black eyebrow rose in question. One she wasn’t ready to answer, not to him and not like this, in anger. It had taken her years to dig deep enough within herself to fully understand the rush to keep him away, to cut him from her life.
It had taken even more time to get over him. If she ever had.
“I apologize,” she spat out despite a tight throat. “That’s all I wanted to do.” She spun around to get out of the suddenly chilly kitchen.
She stopped, didn’t turn around, one hand already on the door.
“You took 12 year-worth of love away from my life. Gave me no explanation. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than apologies to make me even think about swallowing it.”
This post is part of a crazy good Blog Hop, and you can find the other authors here: