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Monday, July 11, 2011


Tuesday Tales continue today. Join me, J.F. Jenkins and Kay Springsteen,other Astraea Press authors, as we write short stories to a word prompt. The prompt this week is "cheese". To read the full stories, click on the author's name or scroll down for my story, "Mint Chip".

The last time I was there in the evening there was a couple making out in the back, and a man having a rather heated conversation with his coffee mug.

Kevin’s brain spun in circles. What was she doing to him? He was like a moth caught in the spider’s web. Only, unlike the moth that twisted and pulled trying to get away, Kevin just wanted to stay where he was for the rest of his life, no matter how short or long that turned out to be.

Jean Joachim
Chapter Seven
        The sun peeked into Clint’s bedroom at six thirty. Nina stirred, rolling over. She was pleased to come up against Clint’s naked body in the bed next to her, his back facing her. He was sound asleep. Nina, accustomed to getting up at six, relished his presence, scooting up next to him. He rolled over and flipped his arm over her without fully waking up. She molded herself into spoon position with him behind her and eased his arm over her tighter so they were right up against each other. She closed her eyes and drifted in and out of sleep for half an hour.
By six forty-five, Nina knew she couldn’t sleep anymore. Her mind drifted back to their night of lovemaking, goosebumps appeared on her arm as she remembered his tender, passionate touch. After dinner she and Clint made love two more times, ending in the wee hours of the morning. Now she was satisfied but tired and a little sore from so much activity.  Still, she couldn’t stop grinning as she leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his shoulder while he slept.
Nina swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up. She took a brief shower and found a man’s, short sleeve button-down shirt after rummaging around in his closet. Refreshed by the shower, she descended the stairs and put together the ingredients for breakfast: eggs, cheese, chives for omelets and that thick bread they enjoyed the night before for toast. She put up coffee, poured herself a cup and curled up in the rocker with the play open to her most recent speech.
It wasn’t the sun or the empty bed that woke Clint up but the smell of brewing coffee. He smiled feeling satisfied, remembering their escapades from the previous night, knowing his woman was downstairs making coffee. His woman? No one said she was his woman. She was his woman for the night…last night. But today was today. The smile turned to a frown as he turned on the shower in the bathroom and began adjusting the hot and cold water.
His mind searched for a way to make her his as he dried himself and put on shorts. No shirt. Her previous compliments about his chest brought his smile back and caused him to put the t-shirt back in the drawer. Spying her sundress on the chair, he wondered what she was wearing. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be much and that knowledge turned his smile into a big grin as he headed for the stairs.  
When he walked into the kitchen, he saw her wearing his shirt which fell about three inches below her behind and, obviously, nothing else and his heart lurched at the same time as desire shot through his body. A beautiful woman wearing nothing but his shirt melting butter and preparing an omelet made him hard. This was like a perfect romance scene from a perfect play he was too imperfect to write.
“Good morning,” she said, offering him a mug of coffee just the way he liked it, light, no sugar.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he replied, taking the mug and bending to kiss her neck.
“Cheese omelet?”
“Only if you come with it,” he said, nuzzling her neck between sips of coffee.
“Like a side of home fries?”
“Like a flawless piece of fruit, a peach, just soft enough to be ripe, smelling heavenly, peachy and delicious,” he said reaching for the buttons on the shirt.
“Uh, uh. Food first,” she laughed, side-stepping him.
“Right, right. You’re sweet enough to make this, the least I can do is eat it before I attack you.”
“After your dinner last night? This is nothing.”
“Not to me,” he said, pulling her to him to plant a kiss on her lips.
Nina scooped the omelets out and put them on plates next to the buttered toast. She handed the plates to Clint to take to the table while she poured juice in two glasses and brought those with her when she joined him.
“I’ve been going over this last scene. You might never hear another actress say her speech is too long, but I think this mine is. Can we break it up into two sections? Maybe put Annie’s response between?”
“You’re sitting there, practically naked and talking about the play? You’re kidding, right?”
She blushed and shook her head.
“The last thing on my mind with you here…dressed…undressed like that,” he motioned to her body with his hand, “is the play. But hold that thought, my muse.”
“Clint, I loved last night, but we have to get back to work. Your time here is running out and…”
“And? And maybe I went to spend more of it making love to you than writing.”
“But you’re here to work…to accomplish something…”
“You don’t think falling in love with you accomplishes anything? I disagree.”
“Falling in…”
“Love…yep. I don’t know what you’d want with a school teacher who thinks he’s playwright…I sure as hell don’t have money…but I can’t help myself. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I don’t think I can let you go.”
Clint looked down at his plate, silencing himself by taking a forkful of omelet and stuffing it in his mouth.
 The quiet was deafening. Color stole into Nina’s cheeks. She put down her fork.
“Who says you have to?” she asked, sliding her hand across the table to Clint who quickly covered it with his. 

Get "Sunny Days, Moonlit Nights" ebook for only $1.99 for a bit longer at:
Astraea Press (all formats)Check out this review:

A little bit about the book:

Caroline “Sunny” Davis has it all, a rich husband, career as a well-known artist and a big, beautiful house, she has everything except happiness. Fleeing from a philandering husband, she returns to her family’s cabin in the woods. Looking to reconnect with happier times while she sorts out her life, Sunny is surprised to meet up with someone she hasn’t seen in twenty years.

Mike Foster, her friend, her protector from childhood is more handsome and devastating than ever. Tempted almost beyond endurance, can she resist him…if it’s for his own good? This story about rekindled friendship will warm your heart.


An Open Book said...

I absolutely love those morning afters when you can snuggle in deep into the covers and let the world pass you by- great excerpt Jean

Dawne P

LB said...

Very sweet morning after!

Jean said...

Thank you, both. Yes, I love sweet morning afters.