Enjoy this excerpt from Kiss Me at Sunset in the Summer Heat anthology:
“All right, ladies! Let’s do this!”
The announcer’s booming voice has Dani focusing on the final touches to my preparedness. Really, all she had to do was finagle the t-shirt since my arms can’t reach around to my backside in order to cinch the garment high enough. I’m wearing denim shorts that more than adequately cover my rear, unlike many of the younger gals whose ass cheeks are playing peek-a-boo with the world. My sandals are cute yet practical with a non-slip sole, but I kick those off—the sandals, not the shorts—and hand them to Stacy. She stashes them in her bag along with my phone wallet.
“Michelle, are you sure about this?” Stacy asks again. “I mean, really, I can already see your breasts through your shirt, and when it gets wet, I mean… what if there are people out there who know you? What are they going to think?” Her voice climbs half an octave with each sentence.
“That she’s a smoking hot babe at fifty and those chicas can only hope they’ll be as fabulous when they reach that age? Is that what you mean?” Dani winks at Stacy who huffs before giving Dani the stink-eye. “Come on, Stace, lighten up, honey. So what if she wants to show off her ta-tas. It’s not like these people don’t know what a set of boobs look like. She’s the fittest person I know with you coming in second, so let her be proud of what she has.”
“Uh, ladies, I’m right here, ya know.” I turn to Dani. “And thank you for the complement, but I’m not the only smoking hot babe, chica. You can give this crowd a run for their money.”
“Yeah,” she scoffs, “well this crowd ain’t ready for all these curves.” She wiggles her body in a little cha-cha move that has me laughing and Stacy actually smiling.
I realize it is way too soon to expect any crazy antics from Stacy, especially something like my last-minute decision to enter this contest. Not that I do this sort of thing on the regular. Nope, this is my very first one. Ever. Why did I think this was a good idea? Maybe I felt like I had something to prove. Like I still had it at the age of fifty.
What is it, you ask? Well, I guess I’m still figuring that out as well. For all the balance I thought I’d regained, there are those fleeting moments when not everything feels stable.
I miss Stuart.
Do I consider myself a strong, independent woman? Sure do. Doesn’t mean I can’t miss that male presence in my life. The companionship. The cuddles. The flirty glances and spontaneous sex on a Saturday afternoon or Wednesday evening. Yeah, we had an active sex life. So what if he needed a bit of help in the form of a little pill. Point is, he still craved sex, intimacy, making love, and dammit, I miss it! Our marriage wasn’t perfect, but really, is anyone’s?
I miss my husband and my friend.
Maybe this isn’t the best way to gain attention, because I’m not looking to take a guy home for a one-night stand. No, I just want to feel good about myself and have some hot guys whistle their appreciation.
Some would say it’s narcissistic behavior, and yeah, as a counselor, I’d agree. Am I going through a midlife crisis at age fifty? Another maybe, I think as I absently spin my bracelet around my wrist.
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