The word this week is hug. I actually had several places in this story where the word hug was used but this one was the most fun so I’m sharing it. Check out the other tales here. This is a continuation of Til Murder Do Us Part. I have added some photos of where the hero and heroine are in this scene. These are pictures of my hometown.
Margot pulled off one shoe and rubbed her instep. Dreading putting it back on, she took off the other one and scraped the bottom of her feet on the concrete. It was nice to be outside in the warm air. She enjoyed it for a while and about the time she decided to make that call to Mitch, a car pulled in to the parking area.
Richard Higgins stepped out of the driver’s side and stalked over to where she sat. Before he could open his mouth, she said, “How did you find me?”
“Are you nuts?” he asked, then held up his hand as she opened her mouth, “no, wait. Don’t answer that. Of course you are.”
“What the hell is your deal? You can’t talk to me like that.” She stood. The concrete pebbles poked her in the feet. It wasn’t as comfortable standing on it as running her aching arches across it.
“I can and I will. What were you thinking to go into Murdock’s house like that? You could have been killed.” Richard grabbed her in a kind of hug. Not really a hug, more like an I’m grateful you didn’t die on my watch embrace—one that hurt—a lot.
“Let me go. I’m fine.”
He released her.
She spun her arms in the air. “See. I’m in one piece. Nothing happened.” She stopped. “Wait one second. Did you follow me?”
“No. I didn’t. I was—”
“You were what, exactly?”
“Good Lord, I’ve been interrupted all day by women. I swear, I’m going to quit talking to anyone of the female persuasion.”
Jillian Chantal 
