Heidi Betts - Loves Me, Loves Me Knot

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Jenna Langan knows what she wants, and as she tells her best friends after their weekly knitting group, she doesn't need a man to give it to her.only a few of his best swimmers. And just because her marriage to undercover vice cop Gage Marshall ended badly doesn't mean he can't still give her the baby she's always wanted. In fact, she's willing to bet a couple of her favorite hand-knit boas that she can tie him up in knots he'll definitely enjoy.
An unexpected seduction is one thing, but stud service? No, thank you. Gage had his reasons for pulling the plug on his happily ever after with Jenna, and nothing that's happened since their divorce has changed his mind. That is, until Jenna got it into her head to tie him up and drag him down. Now he has no choice but to stick around until he knows for sure if his ex-wife is pregnant. But the more time he spends with Jenna, the more his resolve begins to unravel.

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Heidi Betts Loves Me Loves Me Knot The second book in the Chicks with Sticks - фото 1

Heidi Betts

Loves Me, Loves Me Knot

The second book in the Chicks with Sticks series, 2009

Without a doubt, this one has to be for my “Darlings of the Dungeon.” I toyed with the idea of dedicating Tangled Up in Love to you because of Ronnie’s “Domiknitrix” screen name, but no, it had to be Loves Me, Loves Me Knot. Why? Well, because of your amazing support and enthusiasm- always . And because you’ve been with me through every word of this story and know (almost) all of its behind-the-scenes secrets. But most of all because I know how much you, more than anyone, will appreciate the creative use of restraints in this story… and probably come up with a few more inventive ideas for their use, as well. *vbg*

And to the rest of my wonderful readers: If you’re not a Darling of the Dungeon, but think you might like to be, click your stilettoed heels over to HeidiBetts.com /WIPSandChains. We’ve got a whip (and handcuffs and some whipped cream) waiting just for you! *wink*

Cast On

With a final shove, Charlotte Langan managed to heave the heavy, centuries-old spinning wheel up the last two attic steps and onto the dusty floor.

When she’d hauled the thing down to her bedroom six months before, she certainly hadn’t anticipated the need to carry it back up so soon-at least not by herself. But with her niece due to arrive any minute, she didn’t have much choice. Jenna would be staying at the house for the next two weeks while Charlotte was on the road for one of the country’s largest traveling craft shows.

She’d been preparing for this trip for years. Raising and shearing her own alpacas-who had become practically like children to her, given the amount of time she spent with them. Dying their fiber and spinning it into yarn. Knitting scarves and hats and mittens and sweaters-everything she could think of that might sell, until she had boxes upon boxes of items ready to go.

Some of her creations she sold at her booth in a local indoor craft and flea market, but since she spent most of her time either knitting or spinning, she had plenty left over for the traveling show. Or rather, she had enough left over from her stockpiling for the traveling show to also keep the small local booth.

Breath wheezing from her lungs, Charlotte tugged the hem of her floral polyester top down over her wide hips and continued to slide the spinning wheel across the floor toward a far, shadowed corner. She planned to lock the attic door, and couldn’t think of any reason her niece might have for poking around up here, but she didn’t want to take chances.

If Jenna found the ancient spinning wheel in a corner of the attic, covered by a thick white sheet, she might wonder why Charlotte wasn’t using it. Why she’d gone to the expense of purchasing a brand-new one when she had a perfectly good and probably much more valuable one in her possession.

Oh, Charlotte could lie to her. She had no compunction about that sort of thing, not when it was for the greater good. She could tell her niece she hadn’t wanted to risk anything happening to the family heirloom… or that it had a squeaky wheel… or that it didn’t spin quite as well as the other one.

And Jenna would probably believe her. The dear, sweet child would never even consider that her eccentric old aunt might be up to something. Something secret, something devious, something… well, something Jenna would likely not appreciate if she knew.

Because the spinning wheel she was even now covering with the sheet, hiding like a fat kid squirreling away a last slice of birthday cake, wasn’t just old. It wasn’t just a family heirloom or a possibly priceless antique.

It was magic.

Charlotte hadn’t believed it in the beginning. When she’d first remembered the old spinning wheel in the attic, she’d also begun to recall the tales her mother and grandmother used to tell her during her youth about its enchanted properties. How it was a true-love spinning wheel, and that the yarn it spun could bring two people together for their very own happily ever after.

At the time, she’d thought they were simply stories created to lull her to sleep or fill her head with Rose Red dreams. But when Ronnie Chasen, one of the young women in her Wednesday-night knitting group, had found herself at sixes and sevens with a fellow journalist, Charlotte had decided to put the spinning wheel to the test.

As hopeful as she’d been that the soft black yarn she’d spun with Ronnie and Dylan in mind would work to draw the two together, she wasn’t sure she’d actually believed it would. Not until the sparks had begun to fly and the animosity between the two newspaper columnists had turned into something equally combustible, but far more… naughty. The details Ronnie had shared with the group since then were enough to turn Charlotte ’s hair carrot orange… if it weren’t already, thanks to a copious supply of L’Oreal’s limited-edition I Love Lucy do-it-yourself hair-coloring kits.

The good news, though, wasn’t that Ronnie and Dylan were apparently extremely sexually compatible, but that the spinning wheel had worked! The yarn it spun really did seem to be magic and able to generate love where it hadn’t been before.

Of course, one positive result couldn’t really be considered conclusive evidence, could it? No. As impressed as Charlotte was with the results of the first skein of yarn she’d spun on the antique wheel, she thought that another test or two might be in order.

And if anyone needed a little love in her life, it was her dear niece, Jenna. The poor girl just hadn’t been the same since her divorce from Gage Marshall a year and a half before. The two had been meant for each other-or so Charlotte had thought. She’d been completely shocked when they’d split up, and she still wasn’t sure she understood the reason for it. Not all of it, anyway.

But just because Jenna’s marriage to Gage hadn’t worked out didn’t mean the girl had to spend the rest of her life moping. And no matter how many dates she’d been on recently, that’s exactly what Jenna was doing.

She needed a boost. A lift. A little fairy dust to raise her spirits and get her back in the game.

Confident the spinning wheel was adequately covered and hidden behind several large boxes of odds and ends, Charlotte dusted her hands together, patted her brow with the edge of one sleeve, and moved back down the stairs to the doorway that opened directly into her bedroom. She closed and locked the door behind her, tucked the key at the back of her underwear drawer, then took a second to glance in the mirror.

Her mop of bright orange hair was still perfectly coiffed, thanks to the industrial amount of hairspray she’d used on it only a few hours before. Her white blouse with its tiny blue flowers was still pristine, not even a smudge of dust from her excursion to the attic on it or her navy blue slacks.

Satisfied with her appearance, she headed downstairs and into the sitting room to collect her handbag and a thick skein of bright purple yarn. Her niece’s penchant for knitting sexy, slinky boas to go with just about everything she wore meant that Charlotte had had to spin a light, feathery yarn that Jenna would be likely to start using right away.

It hadn’t been easy. Certainly not as quick or straightforward as the thicker, sturdier yarn she’d spun for Ronnie, and which the young woman had ended up using to help teach Dylan-albeit reluctantly-to knit. A competitive challenge that had developed into something much more personal and significant.

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