Page 125 of The Rush

Heat grazes my side, the opposite of the one that Fin just vacated, as I chuckle and a melodic voice fills my ears.

“Aren’t they the greatest?”

Working my jaw, I keep my attention on my glass and take a sip to hide the smile I’d rather keep to myself. “Not in the slightest, ma’am.”

The snicker that responds has my own lips tipping and the tequila finally warming that hole in my chest as I turn to address the woman at my side.

But then my words get stuck in my throat and my brow furrows at the sight of her.

With hair so light, its borderline silver, pulled up in some weird updo that makes it look like a French braid that’s raised up off her head and the tail of it running down her shoulder to rest on top of her freckled chest on one side. A chest that’s plump and fits so nicely into the top of her sparkling dress that I have to clear my throat and try my best not to shatter the glass in my heavy grip.

“Fin came to me late in life.” She chuckles out as she holds up a manicured hand for me to shake. “I did my best with them.”

I guess I’ve been struck dumb because instead of taking the offering like a gentleman, my sight darts back up to her flushed face with hints of crow’s feet edging her lined eyes and I swear I lose a brain cell or two at the sight of the gorgeous blue-green irises and thick burgundy lips smiling back at me.

“Name’s Marie.”Marie … Marie …Her words bounce around in my head until they finally stick to something and I get my composure back—kindof—and clear my throat.“Marie Thompson.” She shoots me a wink when I finally accept her offered hand and the slide of her smooth skin against my callouses sends little shocking tingles clear up my elbow. “But my boys call me ‘Ma’.”

The End!

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