Lauren stretched and rolled to her back. She’d forgotten how uncomfortable the sofa was. She and Monty avoided it like the plague; they wouldn’t even allow guests to sleep on it. “Owe,” she groaned, her joints bundles of overstressed knots that coiled the tightest at the base of her spine down through the back of her thighs. But that wasn’t her waking agony. A day and night filled with tears cost her big. Her head pounded from the center of her skull to the middle of her brow. She felt drugged, hung-over, worn thin, and soul-weary. Straining against fatigue that weighted the lids to her eyes she blinked until focus returned and she could see the lumpy detailing around the patterned ceiling. She frowned as the night, and days events returned to the front of her consciousness. With it came the bottomless pain. Muffin. She inhaled a deep smothering breath and exhaled slow. Lauren put her hands to her face to not compound her headache worse with another crying fit. She sobered, accepted the reality. Her life had been nothing but accepting hard truths. Muffin’s fate would be no different.

Lauren lowered her hands, and her eyes. Dylan was there. Slowly she eased back against the arm of the sofa. He’d slept slouched down in Monty’s chair, minus a shirt, socks and shoes. No man but Monty had ever stayed the night with her. No man other than Monty had ever been a comfort to her. She forgot how good that felt. She stared at him. It all came back. The safety she felt in his arms, the desire she felt when they kissed, and then…

Lauren dropped her eyes away in shame. She tingled between her legs just from memory of his hand there. Dylan McGuire of all people? Had she lost her mind? She cut her eyes his way again. He had felt beautiful to her last night, all of him. There was no denying that fact. After jumping up in her bed over such suffering for her baby, she couldn’t run to his arms fast enough. She’d not given the propriety much thought. In his arms all her inhibitions melted away. It was like being marooned on a glacier, the cold empty bone-chilling fear moving through her. Then suddenly with him, she’s wrapped up in warmth, security. His arousal stirring and his kisses made of undiluted passion. It was pure, untainted, just real in a moment when reality seemed so unforgiving. What was it for him? Pity? Merciful God! She made a fool of herself. She validated every sexist idea he had of an independent woman in distress. She cringed inwardly realizing the shameful way she enjoyed pressing against his hardness, enjoyed feeling a man want her. The other part of her could take no solace in his affections. All she truly desired in her heart of hearts was for Muffin to be okay.

“Dylan?”

His head jerked forward, his eyes stretched liked a bug. She almost laughed at how comical he was waking. “WHAT! What is it? You okay?” he barked.

Awe, how sweet. Lauren swallowed her smile. “Yes. But you look like you had a rough night. Did you sleep over there—all night?”

“Where? Here? Who? Me?”

“Dylan are you awake? You’re acting goofy.”

A Kiss From A Rose on The Gray

“Why was she there? Ay Dios Mios! Why? We don’t take Muffin to the fields, never!” Maria clasped her hands together as if in prayer. The old woman released a deep guttural groan, symbolic of the suffering all four shared. Dylan cast his weary gaze to Lauren. Things had changed. For one, she no longer cried, though her suffering was evident. Dylan found her silence was far worse than tears. Through silence an invisible force field had been erected around her, keeping them all at bay. Nothing he said or did since the drive from the vet’s helped. She no longer allowed his touch or anyone’s for that matter. She sat there in complete agony, isolating herself. Dylan looked to Hector. Did the old guy see what he saw? Hector’s retreat revealed nothing. He seemed to be more fascinated with the dew glistening over his bottle of Budweiser than voicing his concerns.

That left Maria. From the moment she arrived, she had been drilling them all for details on the why, how, when, what now. Maybe they were all in shock, because only a few answers escaped the three.

Lauren once referred to Muffin as her child and in every since of the word, the sweet animal was. It was hard dealing with the consequences of the day. When Dylan’s eyes lifted again, Maria’s dark ones bore down on him. “This is your fault!” she said through clenched teeth. Her hand rose. She pointed a finger at him. “You brought this upon us, you!” To this Lauren looked over, as if she just realized Dylan sat at her side. Didn’t she know he was with her always?

“He did this child. He brought this upon us. Now Muffin is suffering. Why don’t you do the decent thing and leave here! Get out of her life!”

Lauren sat back in her chair. Her sudden movement silenced Maria, and drew the eyes of all three. They braced for her to speak. Then she did. She inhaled the deepest of breath, a wakening breath, and then released the five words Dylan dreaded. “I want you to go.”

Can I say the most sobering moments of my life have been in understanding, appreciating, not overreacting, and learning from reader reviews. When I first self-published I thought no one could not love my baby. The first not-so-positive review I read on Amazon had me retreating from my computer. I took everything about that review personal. Skipped over any compliment there and bemoaned myself for even daring to think I could call myself an author.

Thanks to friend and fan support I sobered up! Quick! Love my work or hate it, I can’t stop myself from salivating and rejoicing that you read and slurping up every tasty or not so tasty comment on what you think. That being said. I came across a video blog that made me squeal with laughter. I would definitely consider this my favorite at the moment!