"Two nice guys in a winter romance"
Reviewed by Clare O'Beara
Posted September 21, 2014
Romance LGBTQ
This friendly short story is set during a Texas winter,
when ice makes paths treacherous and Sam finds a guy laden
with boxes has slipped and fallen. Naturally Sam offers
help. Casey is new to town and he looks so strong and
attractive that anyone would be interested. Sam sure is.
Casey has probably broken his ankle however, they decide
when he's propping up his leg on Sam's couch, and for a
football coach and schoolteacher, this isn't great news.
SON OF A FISH is Casey's harmless swearing term, school-
appropriate and wry. He likes Sam, who is a writer
freelancing at present, and appreciates that Sam is the
caring type and gets him to a hospital. But maybe that's
all that will happen between them... or has fate got
something in mind?
. I
liked the characters in Kenzie Cade's story and found it
all too
short, so I'll hope to meet more of her romances in the
future. SON OF A FISH is an adult tale of overcoming
problems and opening your heart. Some readers might enjoy
this as a winter romance read and gay readers will
probably
be saying, hey, I know some people just like them!
SUMMARY
Sam Crowe lives a quiet life. He's a freelance journalist
and sometimes fiction writer. His world is turned upside
down when love lands on his doorstep—literally, while
cursing up a G-rated storm. Son of a fish, indeed. Casey
Sanders doesn't know whether it’s good luck or bad when he
slips and falls on the icy steps of his apartment
building,
but the hero who comes to his rescue is worth the
discomfort. Their attraction is instant, but Sam is certain Casey's
flirtation and kind words are a result of the pain
medication. But Casey is persistent and won't give up
until
he has what he wants. And what he wants is Sam.
Excerpt"SON OF a fish, mother clucker, cripes on a cracker, dadgumit!"Sam wasn't sure who the voice belonged to, and the only
thing that kept the chuckle from passing his lips was the
loud crash and strange thumping that preceded the string of
G-rated curses coming from around the corner. He walked a little faster than was probably safe, seeing as
the walkway was iced over due to the most recent wave of
winter weather that had come through. It wasn't uncommon for
a freak winter storm to send Texas into a deep freeze. Sam made his way toward the frantic voice. Rounding the
corner, he slid to a halt, unsure of what he was seeing
exactly. In a tumble of boxes, scattered clothes, shoes, and
housewares, the slightly muffled voice continued to curse in
true grade-school fashion. Sam wasn't sure if he needed to rush to the side of the
squirming mass of objects or simply wait for the guy to dig
his way out. "Hello?" Abruptly, the censored swearing cut off while the hill of
clutter wiggled and shuffled. After a few moments, a mop of
curly black hair popped out from under what looked to be a
high school letterman's jacket. The man—at least Sam
assumed so by what he could hear of the muffled voice
beneath the boxes—reached up to sweep the mass of
curls out of his eyes. Yep, definitely male. Sam's breath caught when moss green eyes peered at him from
beneath the black ringlets still attempting to hide those
beautiful eyes. "Umm...." Sam couldn't think straight. "Uh, are you okay? Do
you need some help?" The deep green orbs twinkled and a chuckle passed a pair of
pink, heart-shaped lips. "I must look like a mess right now,
yeah?" He huffed. "Well, I guess I am a mess. I think I
fell. Umm. I'm pretty sure I slipped on some ice and fell." Sam walked slowly toward the shifting mountain of... stuff,
attempting to avoid the worst of the ice patches on the
walkways around the building. After drawing near, Sam knelt
at the guy's head. "Are you hurt? Is there anything I can help you with?" The guy twisted and turned, sweeping the objects off his
body, and what a body it was. The more he uncovered, the
more Sam's interest grew. When the gorgeous man sat up, Sam
stood and reached out a hand to help him up. "I'm Sam Crowe, by the way. I live right there." Sam pointed
to the door directly in front of the man. "Casey Sanders." He grasped the helping hand Sam offered. When Casey moved to stand, he winced and yelped in pain.
Jerking his hand from Sam's, Casey fell back to the
ice-covered concrete, landing with another small cry of
distress. "Oh!" Sam quickly lowered himself to kneel by Casey again.
"Oh my God. Are you okay?" "Yeah." Casey's voice was strained from obvious pain as he
rubbed his hands across his near-perfect ass to ease the
ache of falling. "I think my ankle's sprained. I'm not sure
I can walk on it." Sprained ankle. Sam could totally handle that. "Okay. How about I walk you to my apartment and let you rest
on the sofa while I find you some ice and Tylenol for that
ankle?" Sam wanted to thump himself in the head for speaking
before thinking. "I mean, I'm right there, you know. And you
said you don't think you can walk on your ankle. It's not
like I invite strangers into my house on a regular basis.
I'm not crazy." Casey let out another sexy chuckle, and Sam couldn't seem to
stop rambling. "Or do you want me to help you walk to your apartment?" Sam
glanced at the flight of stairs and grimaced. He didn't
relish the thought of supporting the weight of a
two-hundred-plus pound man while climbing a staircase, but
he'd already offered, so he couldn't back out now. "Of
course, I'll come back down and box up all this
cr—ummm... stuff for you and bring it up—or not." Casey's hand landed on Sam's knee, effectively silencing his
one-sided dialogue. Sam stared at the slim, long fingers
patting his knee. God, he was perfect all over. "You are adorable." Casey continued to chuckle, and Sam
glanced up, finding himself trapped again by Casey's eyes.
"I think I'll take you up on your first offer. I live on the
third floor, and I really don't feel up to walking two
flights of icy stairs to get there. So, thank you, your
couch sounds perfect, Sam." "Okay." Sam stood up, holding out his palm once more. "Okay,
yeah. That sounds like a good idea. Come on. Let's get you
vertical." This time, when Casey grabbed Sam's hand to pull himself up,
Sam noticed Casey placed all his weight on his left foot.
Standing—well, wobbling—on one foot, Casey
looked even more appealing than Sam had initially thought.
He was at least two inches taller than Sam's own five ten
and maybe twenty pounds heavier, and his body was all muscle. Sam tried not to stare. He really did, but Casey's long,
lean body mesmerized him. Sam slipped his arm around Casey's waist to support his
weight, and let Casey lean on him. "Do you want to try to put some weight on the ankle? Test it
out?" Casey lowered his right foot to the ground, slowly shifting
his weight to add a small amount of pressure to the injured
limb. With a hiss, Casey redistributed his weight and lifted
his right foot higher in the air. "No go." Casey's voice sounded strained and breathy. "Let's get you set up inside and I'll come back out here to
clean up this mess." Sam walked Casey to his front door and unlocked it with one
hand. Shuffling through the entry sideways, he kicked the
door closed with his foot when Casey cleared the doorway.
Moving slowly with a hopping Casey at his side, Sam led him
to the couch situated about ten feet from the front door. Once there, Sam faced Casey, helping him out of his coat and
tossing it across the chair kitty-corner to the couch. He
wrapped his right arm around Casey in order to help lower
him onto the sofa. It felt intimate. Standing so close
together, Sam absorbed the heat radiating from Casey's body.
When Sam's gaze met Casey's, his breath hitched. An unnamed
emotion flashed in Casey's gaze before he quickly covered it
up. With mere inches separating them, Sam fought the urge to
close the distance between their mouths and taste what those
tempting lips promised to supply.
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