The Perfect Score 2: Widow’s Weeds
Loose Id ♦ LGBT Erotic Contemporary ♦ Novella
eBook: ISBN 978-1-59632-291-2
The Perfect Score Tournament is coming to the small town of Espejo, Texas. The biggest bowling tournament in the state is going to change the lives of three friends.
The Perfect Score: Three novellas of women on a bowling team who all sign up for the tournament… what they find is more than a 300 game.
Veronica Avery needs to get laid. It’s been five years since her husband died in a car accident and she’s lonely and tired of trying to meet men that end up with a big “L” on their forehead. When she joins The Perfect Score bowling tournament, her modest hopes are pinned on meeting a man she might feel comfortable going to bed with.
She’s not expecting to meet Patrice Goldman, a woman that inspires feelings of passion and longing in her cobwebby heart. Afraid and confused, Veronica tries to deny her growing feelings for the auburn haired woman, but fate has other things in mind for the woman in black. It’s time to shed her widow’s weeds and live again.
Read an Excerpt
Patrice didn’t know what to make of Veronica. She was like a little black bird with the saddest brown eyes she’d ever seen. Her hair was reminiscent of Carol Brady and for some reason, everything she wore was black, even her socks and shoes. She had a wonderful smile though and her eyes crinkled at the corners.
For the first time in a long time, Patrice found herself relaxing. The last year had been the hardest of her life and she was damned determined to get out of her blue funk and start enjoying life again. She’d been devastated by her lover’s betrayal and the subsequent nasty break-up. Life had seemed so gray for so long, and now here she was at a bowling tournament that she forced herself to attend. Suddenly, she felt the clouds part and the sun shine on her.
Patrice was fairly certain Veronica was a widow, what with all the black. She didn’t think she was into Goth anyway. Not with that uptight little purse and her conservative hairdo. No way. She probably never even smoked or drank. She did curse though which meant she had a least a smidge of rogue in her. With Patrice’s help, perhaps she could nurture that smidge into a streak. Moreover, with Veronica’s help, perhaps Patrice could stay in the sunshine. It felt wonderful to smile again.
The morning passed quickly and she’d met just about everyone in Espejo, apparently a small town. The goddess of the snack bar was Veronica’s friend Marlene. The owner was Jesse, an older gentleman with a quick grin and a sweet disposition. Patrice was a bit surprised that Veronica was friends with the sarcastic Babs, but it was a good thing. Another bit of that rogue quality that peeped out.
“I was going to have an early lunch because Jesse asked me to be here at one for the afternoon practice. Do you want to go with me? I’m only going to the Opal diner in town.” Veronica seemed a bit nervous, almost as if she didn’t want to ask, but felt the need to be polite.
“You don’t have to invite me, Ronnie.”
Veronica’s eyes grew wide and Patrice noticed flecks of gold within the rich brown color. Her heart did a quick pittypat.
What the hell was she doing? This was a straight whitebread girl.
“Why did you call me that?”
“I don’t know. It just sort of slipped out.”
Veronica shook her head. “It’s just… my husband used to call me that and it always bothered me after he died when I heard it.”
Oh, hell.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Patrice reached for Veronica’s hand and she snatched it back quickly.
“No, it’s okay. I’m not offended. It’s just…” She shook her head. “I don’t know. For some reason, it didn’t bother me when you said it.”
She looked as confused as Patrice felt. “I won’t call you that, I promise.”
This time, Veronica swallowed and reached for Patrice’s hand. “Please. I-I’d like you to call me Ronnie.”
The buttery softness of her hand contrasted with the calluses on Patrice’s. A shiver of suppressed longing swept through her, leaving a melancholy behind. Hoping a straight widow from the Bible belt would heal her broken heart was like wishing for the moon. There would never be anything more than a friendship between them. That was a certainty.
“Okay then, I will.”
Veronica smiled and squeezed her hand. The sunshine grew a bit warmer under the pretty smile of her new bowling partner. She could at least enjoy it for what it was. Life.