Jillian Chantal

This week, the Tuesday Tale word is Hug. I cheated a little and used hugged. This is a new story I started this weekend for a call about the summer solstice. I may not get it done it time to submit it but so far, it’s been fun to write. The heroine is in Scotland hiding from herself, basically. She was hurt by her former boyfriend telling her she would never find love as she is too overweight and no man would want her. She is nursing her wound in a small village near Edinburgh.

Be sure to check out the other tales here. Some great writers in the group!

The sun beaming through the crack in the curtains woke Leta. It was as if someone was holding a flashlight focused on her left eye.

Not wanting to let go of the dream she was having, she pulled the pillow over her head to block the light.

The man she’d imagined slipped away even though she clutched at the wisps of the dream.

Finally giving up, Leta threw the covers off and leapt out of bed. She pulled on a pair of jeans and polo shirt.

Tying her hair up in a loose bun, she padded into the kitchen to make coffee.

A thwack, thwack sound startled her. It was coming from the back yard so she left the coffee brewing and peered out the window.

Shocked to see a man near the shed behind the house splitting wood on a large stump, Leta didn’t think twice. She opened the door and strode out to where the man was working.

As she moved toward him, she realized he was built the same as the man she’d seen the evening before at the end of the bonfire. How could that be? And why was he cutting the wood for her rental?

Arriving at his side, she said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He turned to face her. She almost swooned. Even though she never thought that would be possible, she came close to it. The man was absolutely gorgeous. Tall, muscles in places she’d never even known there could be any, and green eyes deeper than any emerald she’d ever seen. His long hair—longer than she liked on a man—was dark and curly. A beard hugged his chin in such a way to make her jealous of its closeness to his full, sensuous lips.

“I don’t think I’m doing something, lassie. I actually am.”

He might be handsome but he was kind of literal, wasn’t he? “Then could you kindly explain why you’re cutting the wood that is for the use of the person—me—who is renting this property?”