Twila's Tempest by Natasza Waters

Author:Natasza Waters [Natasza Waters]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Marines
Amazon: B01GKVC76M
Publisher: Waterfall Press
Published: 2016-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

During the day Drake kept himself busy. His dad wanted to improve his golf swing and they hit the greens after Drake’s morning jog. Checking up on Twila, making sure she wasn’t busting her ass had become a favorite pastime. He couldn’t suppress the urge to find her. Sometimes, she turned it into a game, sending texts with a hint and he’d have to find her. Sweetest game he’d ever played. She’d mentioned last night she had to help Mr. Miller today. Once he’d finished lunch with the folks, he walked over to old man Miller’s place.

The front door was ajar, and he called out.

“Down here,” Mr. Miller called back.

He rounded the corner. Bending over with a hand to steady himself on the counter, Mr. Miller watched while Twila had her body stuffed halfway under his bathroom sink cabinet with a wrench.

“Hi, Drake, come on in, son.” He paused looking a little guilty. “If I got down there I’d never get back up,” he said.

“No problem, Mr. Miller.”

He hunched down, rolled his eyes, grasped Twila around the waist and slid her out.

“Hey, I almost got it,” she complained.

“Give me that.” He plucked the wrench from her hand and lay on his back to get at the plumbing. It took some heavy torquing to tighten the leaking offender. Twila remained kneeling beside him and while Mr. Miller went to the kitchen, she let her hand stray to his hip, too damn close to his crotch.

That’s how he got the welt on his forehead.

“Jesus!”

“Oops.” She giggled and then shuffled back.

He slid himself out, rubbing his forehead. “I hope you’re gonna kiss it better.” She leaned over and covered him in a wreathe of locks while she kissed his forehead. Not missing out on any opportunity, he grabbed her and yanked her on top of him.

Unfortunately, that’s how Mr. Miller found them.

He sighed good-naturedly. “I sure miss Mrs. Miller.”

Five minutes later Twila threw her goddess like leg over her bike, giving them a wave on her way to the next needy senior citizen.

“Got any words of wisdom for a guy who thought he was a confirmed bachelor?” Drake asked, sitting and sharing a beer with Mr. Miller in his Florida room.

Mr. Miller chuckled. “You’ve fallen for Twila, huh? Well, I don’t know if you’re barking up the wrong tree or not,” he said, passing a hand through a head of thick, white hair.

Mr. Miller loved his golf. It kept him healthy and alive. He was eighty-two, but could easily pass for sixty.

“What do ya mean?”

“I think you’ve figured out she spends most of her time doting on us. Smart man would wonder why that is.”

“Been trying to, but I’m coming up empty.”

“If you figure out a way to make Twila see that accepting wedded bliss isn’t an invitation for grief, you’ll have her at the altar.”

He set his beer down with a thump. “Are you saying she’s scared of death?”

“Yup, that’s what I’m saying, son. She watched her momma wither away with grief when her daddy died, and she’s seen it many times around here.

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