When good cupids go bad... Carissa Langston is a perfectly lovely woman, so she can't figure out why she's always been single. The higher ups at Cupid Headquarters are wondering the same thing. What none of them knows is that Quincy, her assigned cupid, fancies himself in love with her. He doesn't think anyone will ever be good enough for her--especially not that James "Hutch" Hutchington person. Who cares if the man is really Carissa's soul mate? When Carissa and Hutch run into one another after years apart, sparks fly. Quincy does some fancy cupiding to keep them apart--no matter the cost. Can Carissa and Hutch thwart cupid and reach their happily ever after? WARNING: Cupid hijinks, sexy chemistry between soul mates, and adult content. 60,222 Words
Release date:
May 1, 2012
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
199
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Quincy tried very hard to keep his expression neutral while Miss C. gave him yet another lecture. How many times was he going to have to sit through this? Duty, blah, blah. Rules, blah, blah. Reassigned, bl–Wait. That was new. She couldn't be serious. Reassigned? Him? No way.
“I'm serious, Quincy. If you cannot complete this assignment, I will have no choice but put another case worker on it.” She leaned forward and clasped her tiny hands on the desk. Large wings quivered on her back, but remained close to her body. Her expression conveyed no anger. Just concern for whatever problem he appeared to have with his assignment. “I would expect some of my other cupids to miss from time to time, but you? My goodness. You've been on this case for fifteen years. She should be married with babies by now. I don't understand.”
Feathers on Quincy's wings rippled a bit at the mention of marriage and babies. He knew good and well Miss C. spoke the truth. Carissa should have a family with the love of her life. However, he just couldn't bring himself to shoot her with an arrow. He hadn't found anyone suitable enough to be with a woman as marvelous as Carissa Langston. In fact, he was beginning to think the man who would be good enough hadn't been born yet. It seemed like he always managed to see the one flaw in her possible mate in the nick of time. Still, Carissa's thirty-fifth birthday was coming up. He could tell she was getting restless. Perhaps beginning to wonder why she'd never been in love.
“Quincy?”
Miss C.'s gentle prod broke him out of his thoughts. She still awaited his answer.
“I couldn't agree more. It's just that finding her a match has proved to be more difficult than I first thought.”
Miss C. frowned. She shuffled through some notes on her desk. “Hmm. It says here that Ms. Langston is a perfectly lovely woman. Thoughtful and considerate. Has a wonderful sense of humor. Not high maintenance. Likes to laugh. How is it you're having a difficult time finding her match?”
She stared at him over the top rim of her reading glasses in the way he hated. Quincy always had the feeling she could see right through to his inner thoughts when she did that. He tried not to fidget under her scrutiny, but his traitorous wings unfurled a bit before settling back into their resting state.
“It's not that she's difficult. It's precisely because she is so wonderful that I can't find a suitable match for her. Have you been to Earth lately? The majority of the men down there are absolute dogs. I’m sure you don't want me to set her up with just any old Joe off the street.”
Miss C. stared at him for a long moment. Slid her glasses off and let them dangle from the delicate chain around her neck. “Valentine's Day is three weeks away. Her birthday, I believe?”
Quincy nodded his affirmative while trying to ignore the bad feeling making an appearance in his gut.
“You have until then to find and introduce Ms. Langston to her soul mate.”
“Three weeks? That's not enough time. I need–”
“It's more than enough time, unless you have some other reason why you prefer her to be single?”
If he had lungs, the wind would've whooshed right out of him. “Of course not. I mean, why would I want her to remain single? That's ludicrous. I can't believe you'd think such a thing.” Quincy couldn't get his tongue to stop moving. “I'm a cupid. Couples are my specialty.”
“I'm glad you feel that way. If Ms. Langston is not happily in a relationship with her soul mate by Valentine's Day, I'm afraid you'll leave me no choice. I will reassign you to the eighty and over sector.”
Quincy's eyes went wide. “The eighty and over sector? You wouldn't... I'm–I’m your best cupid!”
“You were my best cupid. You seem to have lost your touch. I can't have you screwing up people's lives when they have so many years left to live with your mistakes hanging over them.” Miss C. stood, signaling that it was time for him to go. Still in shock, he stumbled to his feet.
“If I could have a little more time, I'm sure I could find the perfect man for her.”
“Excellent! I'll expect a good result. In three weeks.” She came around the desk to open the door for him. “Don't mess this up, Quincy.”
In stunned silence, Quincy shuffled from his superior's office. His wings curled protectively around his body. Three weeks. Three lousy weeks before the woman he loved would have to be in love with another man or he'd lose his cushy job.
Life really sucked sometimes.
* * * *
Life really sucked sometimes, Carissa thought when she checked out what remained of her car’s back bumper. The left side dragged along the ground while the right hung by a plastic and aluminum thread. The license plate frame from her alma mater was pretty much shattered to bits. Pieces littered the street around her feet where she stood to examine the damage.
The license itself was kinda folded in half like it had been no more substantial than a sheet of paper. Carissa’s gaze went to the front of the Hummer that had attacked her just moments ago. No surprise that it had managed to escape with a few minor scratches.
She turned her attention to the driver who was on what must have been his third non-accident related phone call since the two of them had stepped out of their vehicles. To say she was irritated with the man was a severe understatement. Oh sure, she'd asked if he was okay when they’d first pulled over. He'd brushed her off with a raised manicured finger and clicked over to answer another call. Seriously? Who acted that way?
“So? Are we about done here?”
It took Carissa a moment, but she realized he was talking to her at last. “I'm sorry, what?”
The man made an impatient gesture toward her banged up vehicle. “With this? Are we done?”
Carissa bit the insides of her cheeks then clenched her fists at her sides. It was all she could do to keep herself from shoving the man out into the traffic that was whizzing by them. “No, we are not done! I need your name and insurance information.”
“For what? It's not all that bad.”
Her eyebrows shot up. Not all that bad? What kind of idiot was this guy? Not all that bad? On his car, maybe. “Just the same. I'd like to take down your info.”
The man grumbled then went back to his car. Presumably to get the items she requested. She blew out a breath of frustration at his attitude before snapping shots of his vehicle. She'd heard horror stories of people getting rear ended and then the at-fault driver claiming the other person backed up. She didn't want to chance that happening and all of a sudden have his SUV come up totaled.
Finished taking photos of his front bumper, she turned to take a few snapshots of hers. That’s when she heard his engine roar. He mowed his way back into traffic, leaving her standing there gaping after him.
Seriously? Seriously? This could not be happening to her. What the heck? Carissa looked at her poor, pathetic bumper. If her car wasn't in pieces at the moment, she'd totally chase him down. Not like she hadn't done that before. Carissa thought about the time she'd witnessed a couple drag racers cause a bad accident on a freeway. They’d fled the scene, but she’d followed them until they'd stopped to check the damage. She'd gotten a good description of the vehicles along with the plate numbers and reported them to the highway patrol.
She scrolled through the pictures she'd taken of the man's bumper. One of them featured his license plate. With a smirk, she got back in her car and called the police.
The shaking started once she'd hung up and settled in to wait for an officer to arrive. Wednesday morning and already she'd had one heck of a week. She leaned against the head rest and pondered the traffic speeding by her on the street.
Tears threatened to choke her while she sat there all alone. She'd just had a major event happen to her and there was no one for her to call. She wiped at the tears spilling down her cheeks. She would give everything to be able to call her dad right now.
It wasn't like he'd be able to do anything, but the sound of his voice mixed with the knowledge that he loved her would have given her the strength to plow through this. She tried to shut down her memories of him. It made her remember he was gone, which hurt a whole lot more than any stupid accident could. She tried to console herself that her parents were once again together, but it wasn't working as well as it usually did. Instead, it made her think that if the accident had been more serious, there was no one left on earth who would have cared if she was injured, or even died.
Carissa took a deep breath. She had to get it together. Now was not the time to break down in hysterics. Or go overboard with the pity parties. She had friends. She had cousins. Her little pep talk fell flat when she considered that while she did have them, none of them would be devastated if anything happened to her. Not like she'd been when her mom passed a couple years ago, or even a few months ago when her dad succumbed to cancer. Without the two of them to anchor her, she felt totally alone. She wasn't part of anything anymore.
Carissa gave herself a mental shake. She had to get out of this morose line of thought. It wasn't going to help anything. Nor was it going to change anything. She reached for the stash of napkins she kept stuffed in the space between the passenger's seat and the arm rest to dry her tears. Much better. After a couple more calming breaths, she didn't feel quite so alone anymore. She frowned and looked at the passenger side. Of course it was empty, but still... She felt like something...someone sat there next to her.
She shook her head. This was silly. Except it wasn't. She'd felt the same presence before. It didn't feel like God so for the most part she feared it. The last thing she needed was an attack of evil spirits.
Flashing red lights caught her attention. Carissa checked her rear view mirror and saw a police cruiser ease to a stop behind her. Relieved, she hopped out of the car to meet the officer.
* * * *
Quincy remained where he was in the car. Poor Carissa. He hated to see her beautiful face marred with tears. Unless he knew the possibilities of her meeting a man were great, he tended to stay away from her when she was highly emotional. Which brought him to why he'd popped in just now. He knew how much women loved men in uniform. Speaking of which, he needed to check out this latest prospect.
Quincy remained in a seated position while he floated up through the roof of the car and turned around to watch Carissa's interaction with the cop. One look at Officer Smiley Face and he knew that the guy had serious potential. Carissa thought so, too, if the way she kept tucking her hair behind her ear was any indication. Quincy snapped his fingers and a thick file folder appeared in his hand. Keeping one eye on his charge, he leafed through the officer’s file.
Officer Jorge Garcia. What the heck kind of name was “Jorge” anyway? It sounded far too much like “Whore Hey” for Quincy's tastes. A definite strike against the man. He was thirty-two. Far too young for Carissa's almost thirty-five. After all, everyone knew women matured faster than men.
Quincy reconsidered the man. Why was he still on patrol duty at such an advanced age? According to his file, he'd joined the force just out of college eleven years ago. Ahh. Here it is. Insubordination. He'd been bumped back down to being a uniform after disobeying an order from a superior. It was just coincidence that his disobedience had saved the lives of twenty-four people. Quincy didn't want to split hairs. The man was an obvious screw up. Not right at all for his Carissa.
No wife. No kids. He'd put all his efforts toward his career and rose through the ranks quickly. Except now he was right back where he'd started. Served him right for putting so many eggs in one basket. Hmm. Maybe all wasn't lost. It seemed an FBI buddy he'd made during the incident that ended in his demotion was trying to recruit him over to the federal side of things. That was no good. They always had to travel, those federal agents. If he and Carissa fell in love, she'd always be alone. That wasn't right for her. Quincy wasn't going to put her in that kind of situation. She may as well remain single.
Quincy looked up from his file just in time to see Carissa share a smile with Officer Jorge. She held up her phone while he jotted something on his little notepad. Oh no, no, no. This would not do. He had to do something. Fast. Quincy unfurled his magnificent wings that no one outside the cupid plane could see, then planted himself between Carissa and Officer Smiley Face. Goodness. Didn't the man have any other expressions? No matter. Quincy pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and tapped its tip against the cop's shoulder radio. The thing emitted a scratch, then a voice.
“All available units, we've got a robbery in progress at Verdugo and Whitnall. What's your twenty?”
The smile fell from the officer's face. He pressed the button on the handset. “This is unit twelve responding. Finishing up with a hit and run in the vicinity. Available to roll.”
“Copy, twelve.”
Officer Garcia turned to Carissa, his expression all business now. “I have your number if I need anything. The tow truck will be here in a bit.”
Carissa nodded. “Thank you, Officer.”
Quincy read through the report in the man's hand regarding the accident. With another touch of his arrow, the missing data filled itself in. There. No need for the man to ever contact Carissa again. He stood beside her and watched the policeman hop back in his patrol car. With lights flashing and sirens blaring, Officer Jorge sped away.
All in a day’s work.
Chapter 2
Carissa stared at the clock on the bookshelf in her living room. A little after two in the afternoon and she felt like she'd aged ten years. While waiting for the tow truck to arrive, she'd called her boss to let him know what had happened and that she wouldn't be in that day. She had AAA so she was able to have the car towed to her preferred mechanic with less hassle than expected. Now she was just waiting on the verdict.
She wanted the shop to get back to her before involving her insurance carrier. Given the damage, she knew that to be a whole lot of wishful thinking on her part. Still, if she could get the car fixed herself, she wouldn't have to worry about her rates going up. That was the suckiest part about this whole thing. The accident hadn't even been her fault. Yet she was the one being punished because the other driver was a jackass.
The more she thought about the man, the angrier she became. She was thrilled she'd gotten a picture of his license plate. With any luck, he could be tracked through that. The officer had told her that leaving the scene the way he had was a crime. Maybe they'd toss him in a cell and throw away the key once they had him in custody. Still, that didn't help her if she was without a vehicle.
Uncomfortable with her vindictive thoughts, Carissa decided that she had to do something. Anything. She shoved her feet into her tennis shoes and headed out the door. The day had been pretty sucky up to this point, but it didn't need to remain sucky.
She was fortunate enough to live in an area of the city that had a distinctly small-town feel to it. She felt safe walking almost anywhere at any time of day or night. She just never had the opportunity because she was always on the way to work, at work, or on the way home from work.
Then again, it hadn't been all bad. That Officer Garcia who'd responded to her call had been quite a cutie. She hoped he had forgotten to ask her something in his rush to leave so he'd have to call.
Then she shook her head. Who was she kidding? The man had to be happily married with a passel of adorable little kids. The thought made her more sad than jealous. She wished she had her own family. At least then she wouldn't feel quite so alone and, well....expendable all the time. She'd have a place to belong.
Her legs pumped faster along the sidewalk while the thoughts kept assaulting her from every angle. She'd expected to at least be married before losing one of her parents. She'd never imagined going through such heartache without somebody to lean on. And yet here she was. She'd not. . .
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