Cinderella Wore Tennis Shoes: a Novella
“No sane man would consider stopping.
Which is probably why Dan Martin found himself downshifting and slowing his big rig to a crawl. The truck came to a stop about twenty feet beyond the rather desperate-looking bride.
Through the rearview mirror he watched her glance over her shoulder and then jog the few feet that separated her from the cab of the truck.
He leaned across the cab and opened the passenger door. “Problems?”
The woman shoved a handful of white frilly stuff off her... face. “Can you give me a lift?” There was a hint of desperation that fell just short of begging in her grass-green eyes.
Dan was sure she wouldn’t consider grass green an eloquent description—women preferred terms like emerald green. But grass green was so much closer to the mark. He had a feeling it’d be hard for any man to resist those eyes.
“Any place in particular?MoreLess
Which is probably why Dan Martin found himself downshifting and slowing his big rig to a crawl. The truck came to a stop about twenty feet beyond the rather desperate-looking bride.
Through the rearview mirror he watched her glance over her shoulder and then jog the few feet that separated her from the cab of the truck.
He leaned across the cab and opened the passenger door. “Problems?”
The woman shoved a handful of white frilly stuff off her... face. “Can you give me a lift?” There was a hint of desperation that fell just short of begging in her grass-green eyes.
Dan was sure she wouldn’t consider grass green an eloquent description—women preferred terms like emerald green. But grass green was so much closer to the mark. He had a feeling it’d be hard for any man to resist those eyes.
“Any place in particular?MoreLess
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