My Tuesday Tale comes from my WIP, "The Dating List", the next in the List series of New York Nights books. We are at Grey and Carrie's NYC townhouse. They are still engaged and Grey's brother, Colin, has come to visit for a week.
THE DATING LIST
“Maybe we need a fire,” Grey said approaching the fireplace in the living room.
As Colin turned to head upstairs to change his pants as Grey knelt in front of the cold fireplace to lay a fire, the doorbell rang.
“Get it, will ya, Col? Must be Delia. Carrie, Delia's here!” He called out as he crumpled newspaper and shoved it under the grate.
“Who is Delia?”
“You haven’t met the famous…or should I say “infamous”, Delia Tucker yet?. She’s Carrie’s aunt…”
Colin unlocked the deadbolt lock and opened the door. His hazel eyes stared at a beautiful woman wearing a rose-colored, slim, quilted down jacket with the hood lined in white ermine. The white of the ermine emphasized the rich mahogany color of her hair and the subtle red highlights. The dark hair framing her delicate oval face made her light brown eyes turn the color of honey. They glowed as they looked up at him. His lips parted but no sound came out as he stood stock still. She stared into his eyes and smiled.
“I’d know those eyes anywhere. You must be related to Grey.”
He squeaked out, “his brother,” while his gaze wandered over the rest of her lovely face. He noted a delicate jaw with a full lower lip, perfect for pouting, led up past a small straight nose to those luminous eyes that were laughing at him now. Glowing skin with an attractive blush from either cosmetics or the cold, he couldn’t tell which, on the apple of her cheeks and the hint of tiny laugh lines topped off her perfection.
“Name?” She asked, her eyes, trimmed in artfully smudged black liner and fringed with black lashes, crinkled a bit at the corners.
"Name?" She repeated.
“It’s cold out here, Colin. Do you think I could come in?” She raised her eyebrows as she deepened her smile.
Her words snapped him out of his reverie and he looked down to see a large red suitcase standing next to the diminutive woman. By instinct, he picked up the suitcase, placed it inside next to the door and stepped back.
“Delia,” she said, offering her small, white leather gloved hand to him after she stepped across the threshold of the house and closed the door behind her.
He took her hand, squeezed it a touch too hard, causing her to wince, then let go. He watched her gaze move down from his dark brown hair to his hazel eyes, and lower until it rested on his bare chest. The deepening of the blush on her cheeks made him aware he was half naked. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Excuse me,” he mumbled as he made a hasty exit, taking the stairs two at a time to the second floor landing. The last thing he heard before he closed the door to his room was Delia’s tinkling laugh.