• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to footer

MARY E THOMPSON

it's a curvy road to happily ever after

  • Home
  • Books
    • F-BOMB: Curvy Vigilantes
    • Book Boyfriends Wanted
    • F-BOMB: SEALs Love Curves
    • Big & Beautiful: Opposites Attract
    • Raise A Glass
    • Big & Beautiful
    • Paradise Park
    • Better In Bed
    • Love On Deck
    • Standalone Novels
    • Boxed Sets
  • Shop
  • Freebies
  • Blog
  • Meet Mary
  • Subscribe

Where Home Is, part one

August 7, 2015 by Mary

Tracy dropped into her seat with a sigh. It’d been a long week, and she was ready to go home.

‘Home,’ she thought wryly, ‘as if it exists anymore.’

Passengers filed past her to their own seats on the plane, anxious to get to their destination. Vacation, home, visiting family… They had happy trips ahead of them. Tracy didn’t know what she had to look forward to. All she knew was she would be doing it alone.

A man stepped on the plane. He was tall and broad, everything Tracy wasn’t. Her petite frame next to him would look silly, but it didn’t matter. Not much mattered anymore.

His jade green eyes swept down the aisle, checking row numbers as he stepped closer and closer to the vacant seat beside Tracy. When his gaze met hers the corner of his mouth tipped up in acknowledgement.

‘Great,’ she thought. ‘The sexiest man on the plane is sitting next to me.’ She glanced down at her well worn outfit of jeans with a hole in the knee, Taylor Swift t-shirt that was softened with both age and wear, and hot pink wrap sweater that she never left home without. On her feet she wore flip flops to make the transition through security easier, but the chill in the air made her second guess that choice.

The man slid into the seat next to Tracy with the ease of someone who knew his body well. He smiled at her, a brief flash of perfect white teeth surrounded by luscious pink lips that made Tracy’s mouth water. “Hi, I’m Dylan,” he said, extending his hand toward her.

She sat there staring at him for what felt like entirely too long, but neither his smile nor his gaze faltered. When Tracy finally slipped her hand into his the smoothness of his palm contrasted with the roughness of his fingertips, sending shivers up her spine. “Nice to meet you,” Tracy stammered. “I’m Tracy.”

“Nice to meet you as well. What brought you to this sleepy little town?”

Tears welled up in Tracy’s eyes before she could stop them. She glanced out the window, wondering if she’d ever step foot in the town she grew up in again, knowing the answer was probably no. She had nothing to come back for. Her roots were severed, cut clean like the roof of her parents’ car when the jaws of life freed them from the wreckage. A small sob broke free, the first she’d allowed herself to cry since she got the phone call from the deputy sheriff. Until that moment she’d managed to keep it all bottled up, but knowing she was homeless, or at least rootless, was more than Tracy could handle.

“I’m sorry,” Dylan said from beside her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He rested a tentative arm over her shoulders, his warmth drawing her in. She leaned against him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart, even as she did just that.

When Tracy finally composed herself she looked down at Dylan’s neatly pressed white dress shirt, complete with a wet spot and mascara right in the middle. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I ruined your shirt.”

Dylan glanced down at it and waved his hand. “Nothing to worry about. I’m sorry for whatever I said. Are you okay?”

Tracy shook her head and offered a watery half-smile. “I’ll be fine. My parents… Phew, my parents were killed in a car accident ten days ago. Their funeral was…”

Dylan wrapped her into his arms again, pulling her tight against him. Tracy cried, letting out all the emotions she’d been keeping bottled up.

As she came back to herself from her second bout of tears, she was aware of the roar of wind rushing past the window outside, the steady thump of Dylan’s heart under her ear, the whisper of his hand up and down her back, and the rumble of his voice in her ear, promising her it would all be okay.

She allowed herself a few moments to listen to him, to let Dylan’s words sink in and to believe them, even though Tracy had no idea how everything would ever be okay again. For just a minute she started to believe him. That the sexy man she was cuddled against knew something she didn’t know and that he was right. That there was something more for her out there.

Tracy pried herself out of his arms, again, and tried to wipe her eyes. Dylan lightly grasped her chin and tipped her eyes up to his. With his thumb, he swiped the tears from her cheeks and leaned toward her.

Closer and closer he came, his intentions completely unknown to Tracy. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammered in her chest, her palms filled with sweat, and her whole body filled with anticipation.

In one second he had flipped her from a blubbering mess to a woman hotter than hell waiting for a kiss from a man. A woman who had forgotten all about the horrors she’d seen over the last ten days, from identifying her parents’ bodies to sorting through over 30 years of memories.

She wasn’t that woman with Dylan’s lips getting closer. His eyes, a deep rich brown that reminded her of the brownies she used to bake with her mother after school, bore into her as though he could read her soul. ‘Maybe he could,’ she thought.

Time seemed to freeze as Dylan moved closer, millimeter by millimeter as though he was dragging it out. Or maybe it was just Tracy’s brain, stalling time so she could enjoy it. A man hadn’t looked at her like that in a long time, like she was precious, and someone to care for. She was enjoying it.

When his lips finally reached her, Tracy’s eyes fluttered closed, her breath slipped from her lungs, and disappointment scorched her.

Filed Under: Short Stories Tagged With: Where Home Is

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Lynn Smith says

    August 7, 2015 at 12:56 PM

    omg that was a tease..lol

  2. Jackie says

    August 7, 2015 at 1:01 PM

    Loved it!!!!

Trackbacks

  1. Where Home Is, part two - Mary E Thompson says:
    August 13, 2015 at 8:48 PM

    […] part one […]

  2. Where Home Is, part three - Mary E Thompson says:
    August 19, 2015 at 9:43 AM

    […] part one and part two […]

  3. Where Home Is, part four - Mary E Thompson says:
    August 26, 2015 at 5:17 PM

    […] part one, part two, and part three […]

Before Footer

He's a single dad and new to town. She's his ex, t He's a single dad and new to town. She's his ex, the one he always compared other women to. Now they have another chance. 
➤https://geni.us/h5qj
#contemporaryromance #bookboyfriendswanted #steamyromance #smalltownromance #bookporn #readromance #authorsofig #indieauthor #newrelease
Enjoying my Sunday today and looking for the brigh Enjoying my Sunday today and looking for the bright, happy, good in life. #authorlife #authorsofig #buffalony #happysunday
He was the one that got away. Ran away really. But He was the one that got away. Ran away really. But he came back. Almost twenty years later. With a teenager. Wanting another chance. 

➤https://geni.us/h5qj

#contemporaryromance #bookboyfriendswanted #steamyromance #smalltownromance #bookgasm  #readromance #authorsofig #indieauthor #newrelease
Ten people were taken from my city over the weeken Ten people were taken from my city over the weekend. Ten people who did nothing wrong. The person who took their lives was filled was hate and took it out on innocent people. #BuffaloNY is the City of Good Neighbors. I didn't know those ten people, but I feel their loss like the rest of my city does. We are all neighbors, and we all hurting. 

My thoughts and prayers are with the families and friends of Aaron Salter, Ruth Whitfield, Pearl Young, Celestine Chaney, Roberta Drury, Heyward Patterson, Margus Morrison, Andre Mackneil, Geraldine Talley, and Katherine Massey; and with the survivors: Zaire Goodman, Jennifer Warrington, and Christopher Braden.
Dating your ex in a small town means everyone know Dating your ex in a small town means everyone knowing your business. Like the fact that he broke your heart. They should all be on my side, right? Too bad he’s bringing an old town hangout back to life. And getting everyone involved. And making all of us fall in love with him. 

READ NOW ➤ https://geni.us/h5qj

#contemporaryromance #bookboyfriendswanted #steamyromance #smalltownromance #bookgasm #bookporn #readromance #authorsofig #indieauthor #newrelease
Follow me on Instagram

Footer

ConvertKit Form

 

Follow Me

Shop Now

© Copyright 2013-2021 Mary E Thompson · All Rights Reserved · Powered by WordPress ·

This site is restricted to adults only. If you are not 18+, please leave. Any links to external sites may be affiliate links, which means I earn a commission from qualifying purchases. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Links to Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Apple, Google Play, and Smashwords are also affiliate links. Privacy Policy