Just for fun!
I left this A-Z Blog Challenge from 2015 on here because I had such a good time doing it.
If you've got time to kill, read some of the older posts.
Delbert Bertram Winston IV, is one of my favorite characters. I don't know where he came from, but I fell in love with him the moment he entered my mind.
A loveable geek, he has absolutely no idea how to cope with someone like Bridget O'Malley.
I had so much fun writing him, I smile whenever I think about it.
Here's a little clip from The O'Malley Brides.
Dell sighed in relief while walking up the sidewalk to the office. Bridget was waiting for him to let her in and today she wore a long black skirt. Thank God she decided to dress appropriately. Ridiculously high heels aside, at least he would not spend the day trying to avoid looking at her ass in a mini skirt. Her long heavy jacket covered the rest of her nicely, and Dell wished there was a way he could force her to wear it all day; it would certainly make his life easier.
“Morning Winston,” Bridget greeted him cheerfully. “No tickets today, I see,” she continued with a grin.
“Certainly not, Ms. O’Malley,” Dell replied crisply unlocking the door. Entering the office, Dell set his briefcase and umbrella down, turning to help her with her coat. Her perfume wafted gently to him and he tried not to breathe through his nose. Damn, she smelled good.
Moving to the closet, and hung up both their coats. Bridget’s back was still towards him as she put her travel mug and purse on the desk before turning around.
“You’re still coming for Thanksgiving Dinner next week?” she asked. “My Mother is delighted and looking forward to meeting you.”
Dell was speechless. Oh, she had worn a long skirt alright. He believed it was called a pencil skirt or some such nonsensical name, and it hugged her figure from her waist to calf. The blouse she wore was sheer ivory silk with an ivory lace corset clearly visible underneath that was trying very hard to push her delectable breasts up and over the low neckline. Long sheer sleeves ended in cascading lace that dripped over her hands. Her hair was up; little tendrils escaped, making her neck look long and inviting. Bright red lips matched her painted nails reminding Dell of the pin-up pictures from the 40’s. Holy hell, and I thought yesterday was bad.
A small smile played around Bridget’s lips and she watched Winston begin to sweat, tugging impatiently on the tie that frequently seemed to be choking him. Didn’t it just do a girl’s heart good to have this kind of reaction from a straight-laced man? Approaching him in feigned concern, Bridget rested her dainty hand on his chest.
“Is anything wrong, Winston? You don’t look so good,” she observed sweetly.
“Good grief, Ms. O’Malley. Do you own any clothing that isn’t suggestive of…?”
“What are you implying, Winston? I hope you’re not thinking I dressed this way for you? This clothing is perfectly acceptable attire,” Bridget insisted, planting her hands on her hips.
“In what parallel universe do you live, Ms. O’Malley?” Dell responded angrily, taking a step back lest her scent push him over the edge. “You better be careful before someone gives you what you’re so obviously asking for.”