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My family and I took a vacation to Estes Park, Colorado, in order to celebrate my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. We had a wonderful time, and I even began writing a sequel to my latest release, Wild At Heart, since part of that book takes place in Estes Park and showcases Nicky's Steakhouse, where we held our celebration.
We also had a bittersweet moment, when we saw the booth where my grandmother, who passed away in 2011, 'held court' during breakfast in 2002. She would arrive and order her meal, then various family members would drift in and out until we planned our excursion for the day.
Here's the family picture: Front Row, L-R: Nephew D (10), Mom (it was also her 71st b-day), Niece R (7), Dad, granddaughter A (age 1), Son W (9). Back Row: Sister W, Son K (21); me, Spouse D (59); Daughter S (19)
For your reading enjoyment, here's the scene at Nicky's, where Emma tries to put Brad in his place.
. Gavin encouraged him to try a beer labeled Stella Artois. As they sipped their beverages and enjoyed hot Buffalo wings, Emma appeared. Her damp hair was caught up in a silver clip, and dark blonde ringlets cascaded down her back. Her cowboy boots sounded firm on the wooden floor as she walked toward the men, her slight frame clad in black jeans and a loose red shirt. Brad felt his mouth go dry when he realized there was no bra under that shirt, and had to keep tearing his eyes away from the glimpse of cleavage when she greeted Gavin. She slid into the chair beside the older man, and Brad shifted uncomfortably every time she leaned forward.
Emma reached for the hot wings Gavin had ordered and told the waitress to bring her a Coors.
“Gavin likes that crap, but I prefer to stick with a
Colorado beer,” she stated as Brad shifted
in his seat again. “Something wrong, Mr. Morrison?”
“No, no. It’s just I’ve had too much good food the past two days,” he lied.
“Don’t they feed you back home?” Emma stretched her arm back and patted Gavin on the back. Brad swallowed at the sight of her nipples through the fabric and looked away. Keep breathing, remember Angie…
“Actually, my girlfriend is quite a cook.” Brad managed to get his tongue working. He reached for a wing at the same time she did, and as their fingers brushed, Brad felt an electric jolt all the way to his groin.
“Maybe she doesn’t feed you enough,” Gavin laughed, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents.
Brad was spared by the appearance of the waitress, ready to take their orders. Brad and Gavin ordered the Prime Rib; Emma opted for the shrimp scampi. Brad ordered another beer, and then excused himself to the men’s room, hoping to get his raging hormones under control.