Hooked & Accidental Books 3--4 by C.C. Piper

Author:C.C. Piper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.C. Piper

Accidental

1

James

I was thirty years old when one of my closest friends informed me I needed to “live a little.” So I did the only logical thing I could do: I got married. In retrospect, that might have been a bit of an extreme response, but if you’d seen her, you would’ve lost your head too.

Lithe, graceful, long hair pulled up into a messy bun. The sloppy updo was a sharp contrast with the classy yet sexy full-length dress she wore with mermaid-like charm. The deep neckline of the bodice showed off delicate collarbones with the swirly edges of a black tattoo whose full design remained hidden by the fabric.

For jewelry, she wore a long silver chain with two golden bands dangling from around her neck while a leather bracelet with a thin brown strap curled around her wrist.

She smelled amazing, like she’d been dipped in some sort of citrusy sweet cocktail. A daiquiri, maybe. Or a pina colada. I knew she’d taste delicious either way.

I remembered thinking how much I envied the umbrella in whatever brand of cocktail she might drink.

Drunken ideas. Half-formed and silly, but consuming.

Her eyes were doe-like, the dark brown speckles in a hazel shade brought out by the deep plum color of her dress. Oddly enough, she wore little to no makeup. Not that she needed it. She was striking just as she was, perhaps because of her naked complexion. I adored the simplicity of her look, the raw honesty of it.

And wasn’t that the irony of all ironies?

Honesty. Ha. What a joke.

Anyway, she was different. And it wasn’t just about her appearance. It was about her mind.

You walk into a Vegas casino, and you’re likely to find two main types of women: the blue-haired ladies with their plastic cups brimming with change and the young vixens trying to seduce you with excessively long eyelashes and high-pitched giggles. The latter will have a coy hand that’ll sneak up your thigh. She’ll laugh at your jokes, no matter how pathetically contrived they are.

This woman wasn’t like that. She ripped into me. She had grit and would take absolutely none of my shit. She wouldn’t have been caught dead giggling at all, much less at something that wasn’t funny. Maybe that was why when she did laugh, it made one hell of an impact.

I’m not exactly sure what it was we discussed, hunched over our drinks with our heads close together, but I remember it made me feel light. Unburdened. More importantly, it made me feel like I was truly being heard, like she was truly listening.

At some point, she let down her hair releasing wave after wave of chestnut and gold.

Maybe it was the number of drinks I had in me. Maybe it was the rarity of the connection we shared, as vibrant as it was unexpected. Maybe it was just the way she glowed in the dim light of the lounge.

But she let down her hair, and I said, “Marry me.”

She blinked at me, and then she laughed out loud.

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