Please enjoy this special excerpt from book 1 in the Red Blood and Blue Grass Series, Black Belt, White Dress.

Get your copy of Black Belt, White Dress at this link!

Traci Winston faced the man standing in front of her. He had three inches on her five-foot, seven-inch height, and probably outweighed her by fifty pounds or more. She fisted her hands and slightly rose onto the balls of her feet. A bead of sweat ran down her back, tickling as it made a path along the tensed muscles, but she ignored it. Instead, she watched his eyes, gauging when he would make his move. As expected, she caught the flare of his eyes just as his leg came forward to sweep her feet out from under her. Anticipating that move, she sprang up and executed a perfect jump kick into his chest, sending him flailing backward. With his balance compromised, she landed and turned her body to side kick into his ribs, sending him all the way down.

The command from Master Travis Seaver ended the spar, and she relaxed, reaching down to help her opponent up. He hesitated before taking her hand but finally relented and allowed her to assist him. Once he had gained his feet, she slapped his hand between the two of hers as a silent acknowledgment. With Master Seaver’s next command, they bowed to each other and shook hands once more, then jogged to their places in the formation.

With a third-degree black belt and as the highest-ranking member of the group, Traci led the class in the ritual dismissal, then made her way to the dressing room. In no time, she had changed out of her dobak and into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt commemorating a Thanksgiving 5K she’d run last November. She pulled on a pair of socks and slipped her feet into her well-worn leather boots, tossed her dobak into her bag with her deputy sheriff’s uniform, and pulled the band out of her hair, letting the straight blonde tresses loose from their braid for the first time since her 6 a.m. shower.

On her way out of the locker room, she hit the switch for the light, leaving a dark room behind her. Because she already had boots on, she walked along the outer edge of the mat and went to Travis’ office. Pictures of him in various jump kicks graced the walls, and a large frame of his advancement in belts from white to his current fifth-degree black belt hung above a large bookshelf. He sat at his computer, frowning as he typed with two fingers. He always frowned at his computer screen. The warm glow of the desk lamp made the reddish highlights in his dark hair glow as if it had a halo. When she came into the office, he shut the lid of the laptop and pulled it from the port.

“There she is,” he greeted with a smile. He’d already changed into jeans and a blue T-shirt with his company logo on the back. He stood and came around the desk.

“Hey, you.” His arm slipped around her waist, and his warm lips covered hers. After dating for over two years, she kept expecting to get used to the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, but every single time, it swept her away. She put her fingers on the sides of his face and felt his soft beard against the palms of her hands. He pulled her even closer and gripped the back of her hair. The intensity of emotions he pulled out of her made her legs quiver and drew a moan from deep inside her. She started to step closer, to wrap her arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, but he moved his hands to her hips and stepped back, putting some distance between them as he slowly gentled the kiss.

When he lifted his head, he stared down at her. She thought she could drown in the intensity of his green eyes. He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek then pressed his lips against her forehead.

She stepped back, immediately missing the feel of his body heat. She felt the silly grin on her face. A little breathless, she asked, “How has your day been?”

“Taught hand-to-hand at the police academy today. That’s always a good time.” He rubbed a hand over his beard. His eyes lit up with amusement, and he winked at her.

Feeling a warm rush of emotion as she remembered three years ago back to the first time she met him at the police academy, she grinned. “I didn’t know what I didn’t know until you got a hold of me.”

“Ha!” He grabbed his keys out of his desk drawer. “Ready?”

“Yes. I’m starving.” They didn’t have a lot of time during most weeks to spend together, but the days she could attend his last class, they always had dinner afterward. It made for a late night since the class ended at eight, but having the chance to share a meal with him made it worth it.

Most places in Charula, Kentucky closed by eight. That limited their meal choice options. They could drive to another town, which they’d done a few times. They could also drive outside town to the intersection with the interstate and hit a fast food place, which did not appeal to either of them. Usually, they went to Betsy’s, the diner near the courthouse. Betsy stayed open until ten on weeknights and eleven Fridays and Saturdays to accommodate the mill’s second shift that ended at nine. Added bonuses were that they could walk to it, the dinner crowd had already dispersed by eight-thirty, the mill crowd hadn’t arrived yet, and they both enjoyed the simple, homemade fare.

The early-spring evening felt nice, and the peak of the sunset lit Main Street with reds and golds reflecting off the storefront windows. Last week it had snowed. This week, the temperatures rocketed to the mid-70s, a typical early April week in central Kentucky. Traci slipped her hand into Travis’ and leaned into his arm as they walked. She carried her bag because she’d go straight home from the diner. They strolled down Main Street toward the river, passing the Main Street Church and Two Sisters’ flower shop, then crossed the road to the diner. Travis reached around her and opened the door, the bells jingling to announce their arrival.

“Hi, kids,” Betsy Bates said from behind the counter. She had cheaply dyed brown hair, hard ice-blue eyes accented by too much mascara, and the weathered and wrinkled face of a woman who had spent most of her youth working on a farm. As one of her favorite people, those eyes lit up whenever she saw Travis. “How’s things?”

“Been a day,” Traci answered with a smile. She and Travis slid into their usual booth. “But it’s Tuesday. You got any meatloaf left?”

“Only because I figured you two would be in tonight. I had to squirrel a slice away for ya.” She looked at Travis. “Whatcha want, darlin’?”

“Hmmm. Let’s do grilled chicken salad. Oil and vinegar dressing.”

Traci propped her chin in her hands and smiled at him. “I refuse to give up meatloaf. I’d rather work out an extra hour tomorrow morning to make up for it.”

He smiled and reached for her hand. “I have a tournament coming up. We can celebrate my win by eating meatloaf.”

“Deal.” She stared into his eyes, her heart rate increasing just from touching his hand. How did he do that?

When Betsy set their drinks next to them, it startled her. She hadn’t even heard her approach. “When are you two lovebirds going to make it official?”

She stood there, hands on her skinny hips, staring down at them as if her question merited a serious response.

Travis just grinned up at her. “God’s timing is perfect, eh, Miss Betsy?”

“Well, sure. But if He’s talkin’ and you ain’t listening, who’s that on?”

She walked away without waiting for his answer. Traci laughed at her back, but when she looked at Travis again her mouth went dry and the ability to make sound fled. The intensity of his look took her breath away. “What?” she croaked out.

“Let’s do it.”

Oh, she didn’t like the sound of this. She pulled her hand from his and gripped it in her lap. “Do what?”

“Get married.”

No. No. No. The word tripped around inside her head. No way. Her mother would become like a ravenous dog with a bone. She couldn’t possibly put herself in that position.

Even though the words screamed in her head, none of them would come out of her mouth, giving Travis leave to root around in the front pocket of his jeans and pull out a velvet ring box.

Oh no! He’d even bought a ring? He had it in his pocket?

Without warning, without waiting for some silent clue from her that this was in any way okay, he slid out of the booth and got down on one knee in front of her. She stared at him as if her eyes could will him back up and back into his seat. When he opened the box, her jaw fell open.

Instead of staring at some ridiculously large marquee cut stone glinting in the fluorescent lights of the diner, she stared at a black silicone ring with a crystal embedded in it, flush with the silicone. Her shocked eyes darted back and forth between the ring and his solemn expression. Emotions flooded her chest, tears sprang to her eyes, and she covered her mouth with one hand to hold back the sob.

“Traci,” he started, then cleared his throat and continued, “Traci, I love you. I have loved you from the moment you flattened me with a reverse round kick. Putting your black belt on you is one of my happiest memories. I would love to marry you, to love you for the rest of my life, to go to bed next to you at night and wake up next to you in the morning. Will you marry me and be my partner in life, with God as the head of our home?”

He understood her! He wanted to marry her even though she would never amount to what society considered “wife material.” Instead of some impractical girly bauble, he had bought her a ring she could wear to work, to workout, to spar. It even matched her uniform.

“Yes.” The word escaped on a laughing sob. Where had that come from? She didn’t know which one of them felt more surprise at her affirmative answer. He slipped the silicone band onto her finger and stood, keeping a light grip on her fingers. He slipped his hand around to the back of her neck and leaned over, pulling her lips to his. Though brief, the kiss completely took her breath away. An intensity that didn’t exist before flowed from her chest, causing a wave of heat to move outward and down to even the tips of her fingers. Trapped in the booth, her hand still in his, she couldn’t do much more than try to lean closer.

“Well. ‘Bout time. Sup’s on.”

At Betsy’s words, Travis lifted his head and looked down at her, then winked. Traci stared up at him, mind blank, heart pounding. As he let go of her hand, she felt the real world flood back, and she gripped her hands in her lap.

Betsy stood behind him, holding a plate piled high with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and gravy. In her other hand, she carried a garden salad topped with grilled chicken. She had tucked the bottle of oil and vinegar under her arm.

Travis blushed and slid back into the booth across from Traci. She reached for the fork sitting on top of the white napkin but could not take her eyes off Travis’ face.

Had she seriously just agreed to get married? Her mother’s office came to mind, with the fake zebra rug and the pink leather furniture. She couldn’t do that to herself. She just couldn’t.

After Betsy walked away, Travis held out his hand for her to take it so they could pray over the meal together. As she set her fingers into his palm, she said, “Let’s not do a wedding. How about we do something fun instead?”

He stared at her for several seconds as if already disapproving of the notion. “Like what?”

After running her tongue over her teeth, she grinned and said, “I know! How about we say our vows while skydiving over the Grand Canyon? We were going to go there this summer anyway.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What about the bridal party? That could get expensive.”

She shook her head. “Just you, me, and a minister.”

His eyebrows knitted. “You’d seriously rather exchange vows alone while free falling a few thousand feet than walk just a few yards down the aisle of our local church with our friends and family there?”

“Yeah! I think it would be amazing!”

He narrowed his eyes and stared at her, finally saying, “Whatever you want. You’re the bride. It’s going to be your day. But you’re going to tell her. Not me.”

Pursing her lips, she asked, “Will you go with me?”

His eyebrow slowly raised. “It’s going to have to be tonight because you and I both know she’ll hear about it before tomorrow.” Gesturing with his head toward Betsy, he squeezed her fingers. “But I will go with you.”

Get your copy of Black Belt, White Dress at this link!