DANCEHALL DIARIES: LYNETTE
“…a short read with a satisfying ending.
~Caroline Clemmons – Western Romance Author
“…a sweet and sensual love story…I found Jon’s outlook on life and
love to be refreshing.” ~Aggie Tsirikas/JERR
“…exciting and very sensual.” ~Anita/EIR
“Short and sweet with hot sex and an even hotter hero…I’d highly recommend it.” ~Linda/RomanceDivas
A LITTLE HISTORY ON LYNETTE
Dancehall Diaries: Lynette originally started out as a short story. The hero (whose name even then was Jon) was in the music business and the story was set in Florida. I wrote it totally as a joke for a friend of mine who didn’t share my weakness for younger men–the nerve! Anyway it’s the first short story idea I took and made into a novella–but not the last.
The Scenic Loop Cafe, mentioned in Lynette, is a real restaurant in Leon Springs, Texas just outside of San Antonio. Leon Springs is the model for Bluebonnet, Texas, and the Cafe sits on the grounds of George Strait’s San Antonio Rose Palace (yes, that George Strait). If you ever get down that way, I highly encourage you to sample some of the best food south of the Mason-Dixon line (or anywhere for that matter).
“Are these iced, too?” Jon asked, taking the plate.
“Yes.” Dear heavens! A male chocoholic?
“Good. I liked the icing. What I got of it.” He lifted the plastic wrap and scooped up a finger full. While a smiling Jon licked the chocolatey goo from his finger, his eyes leisurely skimmed down the length of her. Goosebumps popped up on her skin. If Lynette hadn’t known better, she would have sworn he was licking her. Once again, she found herself mesmerized by his lips.
Despite the late hour, the sun hadn’t quite set and she was standing on the front porch in her nightgown. Old, soft, thin cotton. That meant he probably had a good idea of what was under it, and there was plenty. Her nipples tingled. Damn, it wasn’t even cold outside. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her breasts as Jon licked his lips.
“Were you getting ready for bed?”
“I was in bed.” No way would she tell him she’d been in the bath, laughing at him.
“Oh.” He gave her a grin worthy of Alice’s Cheshire Cat. “Early to bed; early to rise and all that jazz.”
Feeling like the mouse to his cat, Lynette took a deep calming breath. She refused to retreat, despite the feel of his eyes lapping at her breasts and the furnace in her belly kicking things up a notch. It had been a long time since any man had excited her like this. But that didn’t mean she had to act on it…did it? I have to work in the morning.
He fished the remains of the brownie he’d mutilated earlier out from beneath the plastic wrap. “What do you do?” he asked, casually, as if this were a social event. As if she weren’t standing outside in her nightie.
He took a bite, his baby blues twinkling with mischief while he waited for her reply. Her nipples were hard and probably well-defined under the thin cotton. She wanted to squirm, duck back inside and hide behind the safety of her screen door, yell at him to go away. She felt certain he could discern the color of her areolas, positive he knew what she was thinking, wishing. She should be ashamed of the lusty thoughts watching him eat a mere brownie brought out. But she wasn’t. What would Jon do with a woman, after the way he’d dug into the chocolate confection. As if it were manna from heaven.
“I own a bookstore.” Trying to act casual, Lynette leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms over her chest to cover the distended peaks. Her willpower deserted her even as her eyes betrayed her, lingering on his mouth again. For a second Lynette wished she were the brownie in his hand.
A crumb clung to his chin. Unthinking, she reached up and brushed it away. After swallowing the bite, he mumbled his thanks.
“How long have you owned a bookstore?”
“A week,” she ruefully admitted.
He took another bite.
Lynette stood there a few more uncomfortable heartbeats before she said, “I really need to get some sleep.”
Jon held up his finger, indicating she should wait, and finished the bite in his mouth, “About last night…”
“You don’t have to say anything. Really.” Please. God. Don’t.
“But I want to. May I come in? So we can talk?”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t let strangers in my house.”
“But you bring strangers brownies at theirs?” He quirked a blonde brow. “They’re very good, by the way.”
“Thank you, but I was only being polite to my neighbor. I thought you were here to clean out your mother’s things?”
“Grandmother’s…And I’m your neighbor. I also kissed you last night, remember?”
How could she forget? She nodded, her cheeks burning at the memory. He was the first man she’d kissed in ages.
“I don’t see what there is to talk about.”
And her bath was getting cold.
In lieu of a response, he quirked one eyebrow and leaned in, as if searching her face. “Why are you embarrassed?”
“I don’t normally act like that. I’m sure my Momma’s rollin’ over in her grave.”
“How long has she been dead?”
“I’m sorry?” She frowned up at him, a surprised laugh on her lips.
“Well, the way I see it, unless she was buried alive, she ain’t rolling.” Jon’s grin proclaimed him incorrigible.
“Oh my heavens!” Lynette didn’t know whether to laugh or be shocked. “I am well aware that I made a fool of myself last night Mr….”
He waggled his eyebrows and grinned from ear to ear. “Lindsay…Jon Lindsay.”
When Lynette reached out to shake the hand he offered, he raised it to his lips and lingered over her knuckles, as if they were brownies.