It’s time for Tuesday Tales!
Today we have an excerpt from Songs of Red Currant Wine, Colors of Love #6!
Do bear in mind that these snippets are unedited so please be kind if you find any mistakes.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
When Tigh and I slid into our corner booth at the Pickled Pumpernickel, I caught Clark behind the coffee bar winking at me.
“Clark said that he could tell we were into each other the last time we ate here. Said we were so electric he was scared we’d short out the lights,” I confessed as a young man hurried over with menus and silverware.
“Oh yeah?” Tigh asked when the server went to fetch us two coffees. We never opened the menus or read the chalkboards. We both were having the hot lobster rolls with a side of chowder. I really couldn’t imagine eating anything else while seated across from this stunning man. He placed his rough hand on the table, palm up. I stared. “If you’re okay with a small PDA?”
I looked around the sandwich shop then cursed myself for being so damn scared. What the hell else did I have to lose? Still, it took me a moment to work up the courage to place my hand in his. His long fingers closed softly around my hand. I felt hot and cold all at once. Giddy and lightheaded my feelings multiplied by a thousand.
“Tell me about what happened if you can. Your father never said a word to me,” Tigh said, his grip on my steady as the soup and coffee arrived. The server didn’t act as if two men holding hands concerned him in the least. Guess he’d learned to keep his thoughts to himself if he wanted good tips. We had to stop the hand holding so we could eat but the warmth of his hand radiated throughout me. I had missed him more than I dared to say.
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