The Tour Stop
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![]() J.C. and the Bijoux Jolis
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / iBooks -- EXCERPT: “You must be the famous Libitz,” he’d opened, taking his assigned seat beside her, and flashing his sexiest grin. After all, if she was his chosen conquest for the weekend, there was no time like the present to work his wiles. Wearing a simple black sheath dress with aqua circles, 70s-style mod make-up and oversized silver and crystal chandelier earrings that almost brushed her thin shoulders, she’d turned to him and blinked those wide, all-seeing eyes. “And you…must be kidding.” Taken aback, he’d stared at her for a second before chuckling. “Wha—I mean, how’s that?” “Let’s start over,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Here’s your line, Romeo: “Hi, I’m Étienne’s brother, Jean-Christian. It’s nice to meet you.” Want to give it a try?” He cleared his throat, his smile fading. “Hi, I’m Étienne’s brother, Jean-Christian. It’s nice to meet you.” She locked eyes with his, her lips neutral, neither tilted up nor down. “Hi. I’m Libitz Feingold, Kate’s best friend…and it’s not cold enough.” “What?” asked J.C., feeling completely turned around. “It’s not cold enough in hell for me to fall for someone like you,” she said, then shifted back around to talk to the person on her other side. Well, fuck me, thought J.C., taking another gulp of beer as he tried to figure out if he was insulted or impressed. After a moment, he nudged her in the side with his elbow and she looked at him over her shoulder, her expression annoyed. “Yes?” “I hear the temperature’s dropping there,” he said casually, then added, “because they’re expecting a visit from you.” “Ha!” she chortled, a genuine grin brightening her eyes for a moment before she quickly reigned it back in to practiced ennui. “Is that right?” He shrugged, tipping his bottle of beer back as he held her eyes, challenging her to come back at him with something clever. “So I heard.” “From all the friends you’ve got there?” He almost spit his beer out. Damn, but she was quick. “Truce?’ he asked, placing his beer on the table and holding out his hand. She stared at his hand for a moment, then looked away, leaning forward to pick up her champagne glass and bringing it slowly to her lips. “No, thanks. Mama didn’t raise no fool.” “You’re unreal.” She shook her head, that bored look still in place. “Nope. I’m real. I’m just not a good target for charming scamps looking for trouble.” “A target? Shit. Who got to you?” he asked, feeling a little abused by her insta-judgement of him without actually getting a chance to know him in person. Not that she was wrong exactly. But getting into trouble with the right person could be a hell of a lot of fun. “The list is long and distinguished,” she shot back. His eyes widened and his lips wobbled. “Oh, God,” she said, shaking her head as her cheeks bloomed an appealing pink under her make-up. “I walked right into that one didn’t I?” “Yes, you did,” said J.C. with what he hoped was a disarming grin. “All together, now…” “So’s my Johnson,” they said at the same time, quoting the rebuttal line from Top Gun. “Hey, look at that,” he said, still smiling at her. “You do know how to have fun. I was beginning to worry.” Her smile instantly faded. “You’re not as cute as you think you are.” “Yeah,” he said, nodding as he finished the last of his beer. “I am.” ![]()
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