Category Archives: #BlogBattle

#BlogBattle: Fallow – Week 38 – Nature’s Haven

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🙂 Tuesday is upon us once again!! Let the #Blogbattle begin!!

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This week’s word:  Fallow (yep…had to look it up, several times 🙂 )

Genre:  Romance/Drama

Nature’s Haven

People often referred to Liam as a recluse. He would just nod his head in agreement, no need trying to explain yourself when a person has already judged and labeled you.  No, he wasn’t a recluse, he just likes his solitude.  He lives alone, with no family in the area, he works, and spends time in his studio painting.  Over the years he found that too much going out for the sake of just going out, was a distraction that interrupted his creative flow.  He had a goal.  He was working on getting enough material together so that he could have his own showing at the local art gallery.

He works at a job that he tolerates enough so that he has a place to call home and a separate place to do his painting.  His home isn’t anything fancy, it’s actually a second floor, one bedroom condo, just right for him.  He’s happy with where he is in life and where he is headed.  Then one day it all went down in flames…literally.  It was an accident, caused by one of the other tenants in the building. Luckily, everyone escaped unharmed, but they lost everything.  He was so grateful that all his paintings and supplies were in a different location, but still, losing all your earthly possessions, sure does knock you off balance.

It’s been months since he has been able to paint.  Even after finding another place to live, and replacing some of his creature comforts, he just can’t seem to find inspiration.  That is why he took some time off, and is now spending it in a little cabin in the woods by the lake. Getting out into nature should help him snap out of this funk.

After a good nights sleep, and his first morning there, he begins his trek through the wooded forest, anticipating the burst of colors that arrive every fall.  He stays on the designated paths for the most part, but at one point he decides to veer off, and go deeper into the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the wildlife, maybe a fallow deer.  With each step he takes into the crisp cool air, relishing each natural sound that reverberates in his soul, he feels the muddledness of his mind break away piece by piece.  Walking towards the lake, he takes in each detail that surrounds him.  He makes a mental note to return to the lake to experience the rising and setting of the sun. Looking out towards the horizon, he can picture what it just might look like.  Now, the sun is brightly shining off the smooth calmness of the water, he returns to the path that would take him back to his cabin.  In the distance he can hear a rhythmic sound of footfalls on the graveled path, it was a unique steady rhythm, nothing clumsy about it at all, determined actually.  It reminded him of a reggae beat with an emphasis on the first and third note.  As if hypnotized by the sound, he finally looks up and sees a beautiful woman jogging towards him, ear buds in her ears, the swaying of her copper pony tail perfectly in sync with the drumming of her feet.  The sun shining down on her highlights strands of shimmering gold nestled in a sea of ginger, and when she looks at him, it’s as if he was looking into a tropical ocean.  She keeps her steady pace as she moves past him with a dazzling smile, and a slight wave of her hand, she continues down the path.

That evening he decides to sit by the lake to take in the sunset, and to enjoy the unseasonably warm temperatures.  It was then that he notices she must have had the same idea.  A little ways down the shoreline he can see her sitting in a folding chair, sipping on a beverage.  He stands there unsure wondering if he should approach her or not.  Just then she looks up and when she sees him, she raises her arm to wave, then motions for him to join her.

He walks over to where she is sitting.  She reaches out her hand to introduce herself, “Hi, I’m Dahlia.”

“Hello Dahlia, I’m Liam, nice to meet you.”  He sits down on the ground next to her, with his knees bent, he rests his arms on them.

They talk for hours.  He tells her about losing everything in the fire, how it has affected him and the problem he is having trying to find the right inspiration to paint.  Dahlia tells him that she is on somewhat of a healing retreat, physically and emotionally.  She needed this time after a tumultuous relationship with her ex-boyfriend and the accident that left her without a left leg from the knee down.  Just then she stretches out her leg, and he sees her prosthesis.

“Dahlia, boy do I feel like a jerk.  Here I am going on and on about me losing just stuff, when you have dealt with losing part of your leg.”

She laughs and waves him off, “How were you to know? But just like you I had to move forward, and I am determined not to let it slow me down.” She says with a confident grin.

The conversation stops as the last bit of the sun sets over the horizon.  Reluctantly, he returns to his cabin, however, believing he has found his muse.

There is no way he can sleep now after spending the evening with such an incredible person.  Besides, his creativity has lain fallow long enough.  He works well into the early morning hours, but yet he feels energized, alive!!  Finally!!

When he sees her on the path, he briefly jogs along side her, not wanting to break her stride and asks her to stop by later that evening.  She agrees without losing pace.

When she arrives, the table is set and he has a stew simmering on the stove.
“You made me dinner.” She says with more appreciation in her voice than surprise.

“Oh…yeah…well we need to eat.”  He says with a shrug.  “But this is what I wanted you to see.”

He shows her the painting, it’s her.  Standing by the lake.  She steps closer to take in every detail.  He steps back to give her room, silently praying that it doesn’t freak her out.  She looks back at him and says, “Liam, it’s beautiful.”  Then turns away before he can see the tears forming in her eyes.  Is that how he actually sees me? Her past and the accident made her feel anything but beautiful.

As if reading her mind, he says, “Dahlia, you’re beautiful.  You have inspired me.  I can see the difference in my work, the colors, the details, are so much more vibrant.  This dinner was my way of thanking you.  You’ll never know what you have done for me.”   He steps in front of her and wraps his arms around her and pulls her in a hug then whispers in her ear, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you Liam,” she says holding unto him, as if his tight embrace would put all her broken pieces back together.

 

© 2015 Carrie Ann

#BlogBattle: Bottle – Week 36 – The Sun Will Rise

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🙂 Tuesday is upon us once again!!

I’m back and ready to battle…let the #Blogbattle begin!!

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This week’s word:  Bottle

Genre:  Romance

The Sun Will Rise

March 26, 2014 – Shores of Lake Michigan, Indiana

This is not going to be the message you expected to find in a bottle, but here goes.  Three days ago I buried my best friend…gone too soon, but never to be forgotten.  Please don’t EVER text and drive.  I have allowed myself a three-day pizza and beer bender, while Netflixing.  I write this note as a promise not only to myself, but to my best friend, that tomorrow I will begin to move forward on the endeavor we set out to accomplish together and not stop until it is successful.  I now sit and watch the sun set, while drinking my last Heineken.  The bottle will encapsulate this promise and carry it on the waves of the future.  Please acknowledge receipt of this message by contacting me at the email address below, (yeah I know, not usually how it works…whatever) by doing so you will hold me accountable and verify that I have kept my promise.

I know you were not expecting to be entering into an agreement with a guy in a beer laced cheese coma. As my thank you I will leave you with the words of wisdom that brought me out of my stupor, I hope it speaks to you.  This nugget from Victor Hugo…

Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.

Sincerely,
ThatOneGuyMark@email.net

 

August 4, 2015 – Shores of Lake Michigan, Michigan

Neve finds herself walking along the beach, the sound of the waves and the slight breeze dancing through her hair helps calm her racing thoughts.  Making this life decision has felt like one of her darkest nights.  All the research, knowledge and support from genetic specialists doesn’t make it any easier.  With her family history of breast cancer, having this preventive surgery will save her life, though coming to this conclusion has been the most difficult thing to do.

She never imagined at the age of 32 she would be facing all this alone.  Well not completely alone, her best friend Jen will be by her side every step of the way.  Thinking of Jen’s support brings a smile to her face and with that she sends up a silent prayer of thanks and looks to the heavens seeking some comfort for her anxious soul.

She walks a few more feet and almost trips on a bottle stuck in the sand, she picks it up and brushes it off.  There is a piece of paper in it.  She smiles to herself at the absurdity of finding a message in a bottle.  But she reads it nonetheless.  She folds the paper and slips it into her back pocket, with a tear streaming down her cheek, she hugs the bottle to herself as she watches the sun set.  As if doing so will connect her somehow through the space-time continuum with the sender and their shared heartache.

When she arrives home she places the bottle on the kitchen windowsill and turns on her laptop, using the email address that doesn’t give away any of her personal information but a nod to her favorite Avenger, Black Widow.  She sends the following message:

To:  ThatOneGuyMark@email.net
From: NatashaRomanoff@email.net
RE: Message in a bottle.

Message received.  I am so sorry to hear about your friend.  From the date on the note, it looks like it’s been almost a year and a half.  Have you kept your promise?  Your words of wisdom did speak to me, more than you’ll ever know.

By the way…the bottle is actually worth 10 cents in Michigan, thank you for that…I’ll deposit it into my retirement fund. 🙂

~N

Neve closes her laptop, not giving the message another thought.

~ ♥ ~

Mark walks into his dark house after another late night at work.  He feels like he hasn’t stopped since he hit the ground running a year and a half ago.  He knows he wouldn’t be where he is today, had he not given 150% of himself to this endeavor.  Even though he is tired to the bone, it was the best way to honor his friend’s memory.

He turns on the TV while checking his personal emails.  He goes down the list checking off the ones to delete, he pauses, his eyes lock on a particular message.  Not because the sender is Black Widow, but because of the subject line he clicks on it to open it, while fuzzy memories like an old movie invade his mind.  Once he reads the message, it all comes back to him and he sends back a reply.

His simple reply turns into daily conversations with this amazing stranger, who has become more than a friend.  They have shared every detail of their lives through emails, texts, phone conversations and video chats, it is only the four-hour physical distance that keeps them from each other.  Neve was careful in the beginning not to identify who she actually was, until she knew she could trust him.  Even after she told him where she lived and what her name was, he continued to call her Natasha, because when he did, it felt like that smile was created just for him.  It’s during the video chats that he can see the anxiety and fear in her eyes when she talks about her upcoming surgery.  But she masks it with an expression of fearlessness that can only be matched by her virtual namesake, all the while assuring him that having Jen with her will be enough.  He is not convinced.

On the morning of the surgery, she is up and ready to go before it is light out.  Her phone rings, she assumes it is Jen, but it’s Mark.  The sound of his voice calms her nerves a little, but at the same time it makes her heart beat a little faster at the realization of how much he cares.  It is a brief conversation because it is time for her to go.

Neve locks her front door and turns to head towards the car, before she can open the door, from behind her she hears, “Hello Natasha.”

“Mark.” She says on a breath, instinctively knowing it’s him before she even turns around.  In a matter of seconds she is wrapped up in his arms.  As she holds on to him, in the distance the sun rises, just like he said it would.

© 2015 Carrie Ann

#BlogBattle: Lurk – Week 33 – Hair Razor

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🙂 Tuesday is upon us once again!! Let the #Blogbattle begin!!

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This week’s word:  Lurkblogbattle-award-1

Genre:  Comedy/Humor

Two of my favorite characters, Nita and Michael, for some ghostly fun 🙂

Hair Razor

As Nita approaches the vacant building, she sees the owner waiting by the door, she greets her as she walks up,  “Hi Alyssa, Michael should be here shortly.”

“Nita, Hello.  Let’s step inside and wait then.”

Alyssa is the current owner of the hair salon that Nita and Michael want to purchase.  She inherited it from her Aunt Babs, and kept it open for as long as she could.  It has been empty for several years now, it needs a little work, but it’s in a good location, and had a great reputation when it was a hair salon for all those years.

Alyssa heads towards the back to turn the lights on when Michael walks in.  Nita glances at him then does a double take.  He’s wearing work boots, what the heck?  “Hey Michael, what’s with the boots?  You look like one of The Village People.”

He stops dead in his tracks.  “Pumpkin.  I hope that was a compliment and not a derogatory remark.”  He walks over and stands next to her, his voice low, “The boots, my little Frappuccino, are protection in the event this place has rats.  You know those damn things like to lurk in the shadows and then dart out and scurry across your feet…I can’t even…ewww” His whole body shudders with exaggeration as he explains himself.

Alyssa enters the room, Michael walks over with a dramatic flourish to greet her, “Alyssa, darling, so good to see you.”  He uses both his hands to shake hers.

“Hello Michael, I’m glad to have this opportunity to show you the place, I think you will both see it’s a great space.  Let’s go to the back, and you can see the rest, the supply room, break room and bathrooms.” Alyssa says as she leads the way.

As they stand in the break room, Michael says to Nita, “I like it.  With a thorough cleaning, a little interior design and new fixtures, it will be absolutely gorgeous, don’t you agree?”

Nita nods her head in agreement as she continues to look around, “I think you’re right.” She says with excitement.

Alyssa moves to walk back to the front when she stops and asks, “Do you smell that?”

Nita questions as she inhales deeply, “Smell what?”

Embarrassed she waves her hand to dismiss the notion, “Oh it’s probably nothing, I thought I smelled something that reminded me of the perfume Babs used to wear.”  She smiles at the fond memory, “Giorgio was her signature scent.  My mind must be playing tricks on me.  She always joked that she would haunt the place if she didn’t like the new owners, and it was no secret that she didn’t like male hairstylists.  That’s why she never hired any, she didn’t want them taking over her space.”

Nita and Michael just look at each other amused as Michael quietly says, “Well wasn’t she just a bundle of fabulous wrapped up in sunshine.”

“Michael!!” Nita chides.

Just then a noise comes from the corner of the room, and a rat darts out and runs right past Michael a hair’s width away from his feet, and disappears behind a cabinet.  Michael has to take several cleansing breaths to calm himself.  He glares at Nita, “See.”

“Sorry about that.  We didn’t have rats when we were in business, that’s only because it’s been empty for some time.” Alyssa assures them.

They walk back out into the open area, “So, do the two of you need time to make a decision?”

Nita and Michael look and each other, smile and say in unison, “No.”

“Great, we’ll set up and appointment and make it official.”  Alyssa says as she shakes their hands.

~~~

After extensive renovations and a successful grand opening, they agreed on a schedule that allows Michael to open the Salon every morning.  On his first morning alone, after turning on the lights, he reaches over to turn on the radio, he jumps as some god-awful country music blares from the speakers.  Cringing from the sound not unlike someone running their fingernails down a chalkboard, he fumbles to change the station quickly, and doesn’t think anything of it and starts his day.

But every morning it’s the same.  He mentions it to Nita, but she shrugs it off.  One morning he realizes what it is.  He turns the radio on, switches the station and fearlessly commands, “Babs?  Why don’t you make yourself useful and make some coffee instead of messing with the radio every morning!!  I’m not afraid of you!!”

That same day, his new client Josephine comes in.  Michael is not only one of the best hairstylists, but he also has a genuine personality that draws a person in, and makes them feel like they are the most important person in the world.  Josephine tells him that she and Babs were best friends for years, he listened as she reminisced about the good ol’ days, obviously missing her friend.  Michael mentions to her the strange thing that goes on each morning.  Josephine smiles and tells him that Babs appeared to her in a dream asking her to stop by the Salon to see how things are going.  She explains that the Salon was everything to Babs, she just wants to be sure it’s in good hands.  Josephine assures him that after today, the strange things will most likely stop.  Before she leaves, she makes a standing weekly appointment with him.  Not only because she is completely overjoyed with her visit with Michael, but as her way of letting Babs know it’s OK to move on.

The next morning Michael walks into the Salon, soft music and the smell of coffee gives him pause.  The salon is still dark which causes him to stop in the middle of the open space.  With an unsteady hand he rubs the back of his neck to smooth the tiny hairs that are standing at attention.  Just as he’s about to move, Nita walks in from the back room.  “Michael…hey…you OK?  It looks like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Letting out a breath he was holding for too long, he says, “It’s just you, Apple Slice.”  Splaying his hand over his chest to calm his racing heart.

Nita laughs, “Who else would it be?  You think the spirit of Babs is lurking in the break room?”  She teases, giving him a push as she walks past him.  “Oh, and I didn’t have any problem with the radio this morning.  I noticed that the buttons are really close together, maybe you’re just hitting the wrong one or something.”  She says with a shrug as she begins to set up for the day.

Michael walks into the back room.  After he hangs up his coat, he turns to find a cup of coffee sitting on the table that he knows was not there when he first walked in.  Before he moves towards it, his nostrils are invaded with a sweet, flowery scent, as the back door slowly swings open on a breeze.  He walks over to pull the door closed, a warm sensation moves across his body as if exiting out the door.  He smiles to himself and quietly says, “Godspeed Babs…Godspeed.”

 

#BlogBattle: Scar – Week 31 – Worth It

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Tuesday = #Blogbattle

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This week’s word:  Scar

Genre:  Romance/Drama

Worth It

The rain is fiercely coming down, pelting my skin like a thousand tiny daggers. The icy water from the river has risen far too quickly and is now rushing around me.  I hold on tight to a tree branch.  I know if I start shivering, I won’t be able to hold on.  The wind has picked up and the temperature has dropped at least 20 degrees.  I knew we should have turned back before the storm hit.  My fingers are tingling from the cold, “Adam…I don’t know that I can hold on any longer.”  I yell above the rushing water and the howling wind.  He answers back “Kate….hold on Kate, I’m coming, I’m almost there.” His voice loud but calm.  “Hurry!!” I frantically scream.  I try to focus on my grip, but my mind wanders to what if he doesn’t make it in time.  The river will swallow me up, I won’t have a chance, just then my grip slips, “Adam!!”

I must have yelled his name so loud that it woke me from my sleep, because I bolted straight up in bed, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.  I brush my hair from my face, and realize it was just a dream.  The same dream I always have when I’m stressed out and things seem out of my control in my life.

I look at the clock, it’s 4 a.m.  I’m wide-awake now.  I head to the kitchen to get some tea, maybe that will calm my racing thoughts.  As I fill the kettle with water and place it on the stove, my mind takes me back, I remember that day all too well.  Adam and I always took walks along the river near his house.  We were just teenagers then, he was older than I was, yet we spent a lot of time together.  We always crossed the river at the same spot, so it wasn’t new for us.  But that day the storm rolled in too quickly and the rain came down too hard.  We were racing to get home, and I slipped on a rock and almost fell into the river before he caught me.  In the process of him saving me, he acquired a nasty gash on his left hand that we didn’t see until we were safely catching our breath in his backyard.  I reached over and grabbed his hand cradling it carefully in my own, and said, “You hurt yourself.  Yikes, that’s going to leave a nasty scar.”

Applying pressure to it with the corner of his shirt balled up in his other hand, he casually replies, “Eh it’s nothing….it was worth it.  I’d never let anything happen to you Kate.”

It was at that moment that everything changed between us, but I was too young to really understand what to do with it, and before I knew it his family moved away and we lost track of each other.

The memory of our friendship and all those carefree days we spent together made me smile.  The whistle of the teakettle brings me back to reality.  My thoughts begin to berate me.  Get a grip Kate.  I’m sure he doesn’t even think about that day or you at all.  Sure he has the scar as a permanent reminder, but I’m sure he has moved on…happily married, with a wife, 2.5 kids, a dog, the house with a white picket fence.  Unlike you.  Yep…we all have scars, only mine cover the walls of my mind, and canvas my heart.

I shake my head and abruptly stop that train of thought.  It has to be the stress from work.   My boss assures me this merger is going to go smoothly.  I can only hope.  I look at the clock again.  It’s too early to go into the office.  I decide to hit the gym and work off some of this nervous energy.  A good work out and some laps in the pool will get me in the right frame of mind.

By 8:00 a.m. I walk into my office with coffee in hand ready to take on the day.  All negative thoughts and emotions left drowning in the pool.  My assistant Lisa knocks on the door, with files in hand she reminds me of my meeting at 8:30.

I walk into the conference room, and the VP greets me, and then introduces me to the gentlemen next to him.  “Katherine Richmond, this is Adam Madsen.” Adam extends his hand and I firmly shake it, not taking my eyes off him.  This can’t be happening.  The meeting is about to start, so we take our seats not getting a chance to speak.

It takes every ounce of my strength to focus on the meeting.  I just know it’s him.  The meeting ends just in time for lunch.  I quickly exit the conference room, on my way out I let Lisa know I’m leaving the building for lunch.  I have to get away and wrap my brain around this whole situation.  When I return from lunch Adam and I will be working closely together until this merger goes through and then once it is done.  How am I going to do this?  There is no way he recognizes me.  I go by Katherine now, my last name has changed, my hair is a different color.   OK…I can do this, just focus on business.  I cannot bring myself to eat, so I return to the office, ready to work.

Lisa let’s me know that Adam is waiting for me in my office.  I walk in and casually say, “Are we ready to work?”  With that we dive into the task at hand.  He is focused on the details, so it makes it easy to keep things strictly business, and I am determined to keep it that way even though the scar on his left hand seems to want to incite me to do otherwise.

We’ve put in a long day, and then some.  We order Chinese Food in for dinner as we wrap up for the day.  It isn’t until then that our conversation turns to idle chitchat.  I notice no wedding ring, and he confirms with his conversation that he isn’t married.  With that bit of information, I cannot help myself, I have to know.  As I begin cleaning up the empty food cartons I reach over and run my finger along the scar that runs the width of his left hand.  “That’s quite a scar you’ve got there…so…was it worth it?”

He gazes down at my finger caressing his hand for a heartbeat, then looks up, stares deep into my eyes as if searching for the answer, and when he finds it he says, “Kate.”

© 2015 Carrie Ann

#BlogBattle: Reach – Week 30 – Better Than Brownies

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🙂 Tuesday is upon us once again!! Let the #Blogbattle begin!!

#BlogBattle is a weekly short story challenge using a single word for inspiration.  Hosted by the talented Rachael Ritchey.  Feel free to join in, or click here to read the current week’s stories and vote for your favorites.

This week’s word:  Reach

Genre:  Romance ❤

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Better Than Brownies

Eden finds herself standing alone in the kitchen, it’s much quieter in here.  Thinking to herself, I still don’t know why I am here.  I am too old for this crap.  No…that’s a lie, I’m not that old, and I am here because it’s my younger sister’s housewarming party.  Our 9 year age difference usually isn’t so noticeable, and it’s not, when it’s just her and I.  But being surrounded by her 30-ish friends, is making me feel my 40-ish years.  I think I’m going to call it a night, but not before I make my way over to the food table, hoping to get one of her famous double chocolate brownies.  She assures me that even though she did not use the “secret” ingredient she used to use in high school, they will taste the same.  Kelly makes the best brownies.

As I walk into the other room, I can see there is one left, I lock my sights on it as I approach the table weaving in and out of the horde of people talking, dancing, and taking group selfies.  Just as I am about to reach for it, some guy accidentally bumps into me on my right.  He apologizes profusely, and I just smile and say, “It’s OK.”

I turn back to grab the brownie and it’s gone.  I look to my left and there he is, with half of the brownie in his mouth and the other half in his hand.  I look from his hand to his mouth and back to his hand.  He mumbles with his mouth full, “These are really good,” as he enthusiastically points to the half-eaten brownie with his other hand, not sure he can be understood over the music.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know.” Eden replies flatly, but loudly to be heard over the music.  Arms crossed.

He has swallowed it by now, and the music quiets so he says.  “I’m sorry, I took the last one.”  It then dawns on him and he starts to ramble, “I just…were you…” as he gestures to himself, to the brownie, then to the table not sure what to say, or how to make this right.

I hold up my hand, and shake my head assuring him with a smile,  “It’s fine.”  I’m actually enjoying myself watching him grovel.  Wondering who he is, he looks about as out of place in this crowd as I feel.  He must be close to my age.

He holds up the half eaten bit, “There’s still some left, I’ll share.”

This is getting ridiculous now, “No, really…you enjoy it.  I was actually on my way out.”  I twist my body as I point towards the door.

“Let me make it up to you.  Are you walking?”  He inquires, I nod my head yes.

“Then let me walk you home.  There’s a nice little 24 hour joint not far from here, we can stop and have some coffee, and dessert.”  He says with those gorgeous blue eyes pleading.

“Sure…let me just say good night to my sister.  By the way, I’m Eden.”  She holds out her hand.

With one hand splayed against his broad chest, and the other reaching for hers in a handshake, he says, “Declan.  Nice to meet you Eden.  I work with Kelly’s boyfriend, Miles.”

With a nod and a smile, “It’s nice to meet you, Declan.  I’ll be right back.  I’ll meet you at the door.” I leave to say goodbye to my sister.

We meet back up at the door and walk out into the cool crisp night.

True to his word, the 24-hour joint is nice and is little.  It’s not hard to find a table, being the only ones there.  We order coffee and slices of chocolate cream pie.

Now that we are in the brighter light, I realize that Declan is probably close to my age, wearing a plain white button down oxford shirt, and some jeans, which is probably why he looked out of place back at my sister’s party.  But by far was the best looking guy there.

I take a bite of the pie and am surprised at how good it is and comment as such, “Mmmm…this is actually pretty good…that is, for pie.  I mean it’s not a deliciously decadent double chocolate brownie…but it’s good.”

“You’re not going to let that go are you?”

I rest my chin in my hand like I’m deep in thought for a brief moment, and then reply, “Nope…absolutely not.” I lift my cup of coffee and take a sip eyeing him playfully over the rim of the mug.

“Well, what can I say, other than it was worth it,” he says with a smug grin.

We talk some more, then realize that it has gotten late.  We continue talking as he walks me home.  Somewhere along the way he reaches for my hand to entwine our fingers as if it’s what we always do.

He walks me all the way to my front door, and as we stand on the porch I say, “Thanks for the coffee and the pie.  I would have never guessed consorting with a brownie thief would be so enjoyable.  You know…you still owe me a brownie.”

He drops his head in mock defeat, then looks up directly into my eyes and says, “Next time, but until then maybe this will help.”  He steps in front of me sliding one hand in my hair at the nape of my neck and reaches his other arm around my waist to pull me close, he gently presses his lips to mine.  For a moment we are lost sharing new feelings in a way that words cannot express.  Reluctantly Declan pulls away.  Pleasantly shocked and a little breathless, I say, “yeah…that was sooo much better than a brownie.”

With a mischievous grin and a quiet laugh, Declan says, “Good night Eden, sweet dreams,” as he turns and walks away.

 

© 2015 Carrie Ann

This is my Hail Mary pass for this week.  Was having a hard time with the prompt, but this finally came to me 😐
And I’m under 1000 words….YES!!  Two of my favorite things…romance and chocolate 🙂

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/87363185@N00/2977887792″>Chocolate beetroot brownies</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;