TUESDAY TALES - FREE READS!

Tuesday Tales continue today. Join me and other Astraea Press authors as we write short stories to a word prompt. The prompt this week is "flowers". To read the full stories, click on the author's name. Scroll down for my story, "Mint Chip" . We hope you enjoy our stories.

J.F. Jenkins

Roses, and a card reading “Happy Birthday Mom” in rather fancy cursive. Someone is in town. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean, why now? Especially since this is the first time anyone has bothered to show up for five years?
(To read more, click on the author's name)

Kay Springsteen
Apparently she wasn't thrilled with being compared to a substitute anything, let alone a substitute some folks considered less satisfying than the real thing. "Not the root," he corrected. "The flower. Your eyes are the same blue as a chicory flower. It's what I first noticed. Out there on the road the other evening."
(To read more, click on the author's name)

J. GUNNAR GRAY

“Please tell me whatever you can,” Stoner said.

Mercer drew a deep breath. “We found her in the Dark.”

“Was it an accident?”

“No, sir.”

“Some wild beast?”

“A male one.”
(To read more, click on the author's name)

Chapters One - Three

MINT CHIP
Chapter Four

        Nina felt nervous as she walked up the steps to Clint’s rented house. She shook her head and laughed, which turned into a giggle when Clint opened the door.

            “Laughing already and I haven’t even given you a punch line,” he said, opening the door wide to let her in.

            His eyes widened to see her. She never looked as beautiful. The dress showed her shape to perfection. He liked the print, feminine but not obvious. The neckline was sufficiently low to give him a great view of her breasts and he couldn’t stop staring.

            “Did I spill something?” she said, looking down at the neckline of her dress.

            Clint’s face turned bright red. Then Nina figured out what he was looking at and she turned bright red, too. It had been a long time since a man stared at her breasts, she didn’t expect it. She was out of practice. How long has it been since a man made a pass at me? She smiled to herself. Can’t remember. Her blush faded to a soft, attractive pink and Clint’s smile widened.

            “So where is that champagne you promised me?” she asked.

            Clint bounced out of his reverie and closed the door behind her.

            “Right in here,” he said, taking her elbow and leading her into the living room.

            She felt the warmth of his hand on her and it made her tingle in places that had not tingled in a long time. She blushed. Clint looked at her with a quizzical expression, as if he was wondering where her new blush came from, which made her blush more. Nina hid her face and walked through French doors out onto the deck. The sun was still bright and the garden beautiful with orange, pink and white summer flowers blooming .

            “I have a black thumb. Everything I plant dies,” she said.

            “Not true. You’ve made the play grow,” he said, following her.

            “The play is all yours,” she said.

            “It isn’t. Who gave it the name, ‘Happy Family’?”

            “You’re going to use that?”

            “It’s perfect and it’s yours.”

            Nina couldn’t hide her pleasure at his use of the title she created. She wanted to be part of this play…not just reading the part of Eve, the leading lady, but part of its production, part of whatever would keep her near Clint.

            “Now it’s yours.”

            “It’s …ours,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders. He balanced the bottle of champagne and two glasses in his other hand. They walked to the table on the deck and Clint put the bottle down. He popped the cork and pour out two flutes.

            “To you…” he said.

            “To you…” she said.

            “To us!”

            They clinked glasses and drank. The bubbles tickled her nose and Nina remembered how much she liked champagne and how Henry would ply her with champagne whenever he had bad news about a three week business trip or a late evening at work coming up…never for a celebration.  This was different. She looked at Clint’s eager, happy face and raised her glass for another toast.

            “To ‘Happy Family’, may it play for five years.”

            “Five? How about ten?”

            Again they drank, keeping eye contact. Nina recognized the hungry look on Clint’s face and felt amused it should be directed at her. Amusement turned to excitement when she realized it wasn’t something passing across the face of a man with two glasses of champagne under his belt, but something lingering in his eyes, his smile, the way he looked at her, like she was Little Red Riding Hood and he was the wolf. It gave her goosebumps and a chill ran up her spine.

            The heat she felt for him spilled out through her gaze…flirting came back so easily, like riding a bicycle. She looked right into his eyes. He stepped closer to her, eying her lips as she raised her chin to make eye contact, his mouth came down on hers, softly, gently, testing the way, waiting for her response.

            Nina could not believe the electricity traveling through her body at the touch of his lips. She grasped the table to steady herself but it was unnecessary as his arm snaked around her waist and held her fast, pulling her slowly up against him. Then he stepped back.

            “Nina…I…”

            She put her finger on his lips and he stopped talking. Her hands grasped the lapels of his shirt and pulled him down to her. She closed her eyes and his lips found hers again. A soft kiss progressed to a passionate kiss as she melted in his arms. He angled his head and deepened the kiss. Nina relaxed as his arms pulled her flush up against him, crushing her breasts into his chest. She drove all thought from her mind and allowed her senses to take over. He tasted like champagne and smelled woodsy. Her hands touched his neck and creeped up into his hair, the strands tickling her palms. His hands slid down over her behind and squeezed gently. She uttered a soft moan as her excitement grew. She wanted him, wanted him as she had not wanted a man in a long time.

            Clint broke from her and stood back. They stared at each other, waiting for their breathing to return to normal. Nina could see the fire in his eyes and knew hers matched his.

            “Dinner,” he said.

            “Must we?”

              Nina clapped her hand over her mouth, surprised at her aggressive suggestion. A wicked grin spread across his face.

            “You’re my guest. Choice is up to you…if you would like to start with dessert first, who am I to interfere…”

            She reached up and gently moved a lock of hair out of his eyes. She has mussed up his carefully combed hair so she felt responsible for righting it. He took her hand and kissed the palm.

            “The choice is yours, my lady.”

            “Am I?”

            “Are you what?”

            “Your lady?”

            “I hope so.”

            Keeping hold of her hand he slowly pulled her closer until she was in his arms again. She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. He tilted her chin up for another kiss. No holding back.

            While their tongues danced, his hand circled her breast, feeling its weight, the fingers closing gently around the soft flesh. Nina gave a tiny gasp but didn’t change her position.  His fingers came up to caress the exposed top of her breast and she moaned at the contact. Her small hand unbuttoned one button of his shirt and slipped underneath to feel the hardness of his chest and the soft hair there. A groan escaped from his throat as his passion became evident to her.

            Feeling heat consuming her, Nina stepped back from Clint and took his hand.

            “Dessert first,” she said.

            He smiled at her and moved toward the stairs, keeping hold of her hand, pulling her gently along behind him.

            Nina thought of all the things she should say, the excuses about her body and what breast feeding does to ones breasts and how ten more years of gravity pulls things down…but she held her tongue. After all, this was Clint. He knew all that and she saw by the heat of his gaze he didn’t care. She was his lady and he wanted to make love to her.

            So she shut her mouth, smiled and followed him up the stairs.