I came across this writing prompt on Theresa, author of The Haunted Wordsmith’s blog. I didn’t get the chance to get around to it until today, but it has become longer than I originally expected, so I have decided to break into different parts. I’m not sure how far I will go, but I will keep writing until my heart is content. We shall see. I haven’t even gotten to Theresa’s prompt yet, but this particular prompt really sparked my imagination for some reason!
As always, feedback is always welcome, and thank you so much for reading!!
Blue Haven Part 1
It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the Seattle coffee was tantalizing my taste buds. I had put on the Temptations record, using a Swiffer as a microphone and danced around like a fool in my aunt’s bed and breakfast. She had asked me if I could watch the place for her for a couple of weeks while she flew to Colorado to spend some time with her daughter, and I jumped at the chance because I could use the break.
I was just in the middle of “Ain’t Too Proud To Beg,” when I heard him clear his throat. I turned beat red before I even turned around to see his amused smile.
“I didn’t hear anyone come in.” I said shyly, turning a deeper shade of red.
He chuckled. “You’ve got moves.”
“Err, um…. thanks,” I stammered. “So how may I help you today?”
“Is Mrs. Doyle available?” He asked.
“No, she’s not, but I’m her niece. How do you know my aunt?”
“I’m a frequent visitor,” he paused and looked as if he was about to say something and then decided against it. “She usually gives me the Blue Haven room.”
“Oh, that room is my favorite!” I paused briefly to open up the reservation calendar. “Do you have a reservation?” I asked. “My aunt hadn’t mentioned anyone coming, in fact she said I would more than likely be by myself for the duration of my visit.”
“No reservation, but I had told her the last time I visited that I would be back in November.”
We made small talk while I made his reservation and I learned that he was there on business, but he would also have a lot of down time during his stay. As luck would have it, he was also staying the entire length of time that I was, and I can’t deny that I was a little excited for the company.
“There you are sir, you’re all set,” I said as I handed him the key to his room.
“Please, call me Jared.”
I nodded and he just stared at me before my brain finally caught up and I realized he was waiting for me to formally introduce myself. “Oh!” I said , sounding surprised. “I’m Angela,” I replied as I extended my hand for him to shake.
He fiddled with the anchor key chain before replying “I love how the rooms still use actual keys.”
‘Yes, there’s something charming about it, isn’t there?”
“Quite charming, Angela.”
I didn’t know if it was the sound of my name escaping past his lips or just the sound of his baritone voice in general, but a shiver ran down my spine.
After finishing my cleaning, I decided to make up a basket of snacks and bottled water for Jared. I also grabbed some fresh towels on my way up the stairs.
When he answered the door I took the opportunity to give him a once over, he looked so relaxed in his khaki, cargo shorts and white, Henley colored shirt. He was muscular, but I wouldn’t call him buff, but he was definitely appealing. All broad shouldered and chest, long arms and big hands. He wasn’t exactly tall, but even as being average height for a woman, I still had to look up to make eye contact with him.
“If I had known you were coming, I would have had this waiting in your room, but I decided to bring it to you, and some fresh towels in case you needed them”
He thanked me and turned to sit the basket on the bedside table. I stood in the doorway, wanting to make conversation. It didn’t feel awkward, but he had caught me so off guard and the thought of him catching me dancing around like a fool was still fresh in my memory.
“Did you need something else, Angela?” He finally broke the silence.
“Um…..” I paused desperately trying to think of something witty to say so I didn’t look like an even bigger idiot than I already did. “Do you have plans for dinner?” I asked a little too quickly.
He smiled at me and I thought I would melt into a puddle. I thought he was handsome before, but his smile reached his eyes and I found myself wanting to stare in wonder. Surprisingly, I managed to compose myself and smile back.
“I do not have dinner plans, Angela. What were you thinking?”
“Well, I need to run to the grocery store, and I thought I’d grab a few fresh ingredients for pasta. Do you like seafood?”
“Like it? My dear, I could eat seafood every day for the rest of my life and be perfectly content.”
“Good, because I make a great shrimp and scallop linguine, and I hate cooking for one.”
“I’d love to join you.”
“Okay, let’s say around 7ish?”
He shifted his weight to one foot and looked down at the floor, blushing, before looking back at me. Was he nervous? “7ish is perfect.”
I grabbed a glass of wine and put on my Jason Mraz playlist on Spotify. I made the the mini fruit tarts for dessert first and sat them in the fridge to chill before preparing the sauce. Lost in the sound of the music and focusing on making the perfect meal to impress my dinner guest, I failed to hear Jared enter the kitchen, and was caught dancing for the second time that day.
“Are you always dancing?”
I jumped at the sound of his voice and I turned to see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed across his chest, and his right foot crossed over his left one. I swear he got better looking each time I saw him. I cleared my throat and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen from my pony tail behind my ear, a trait I tend to do whenever I’m nervous. “Pretty much.” I replied.
“I think it’s endearing, Angela.”
I managed to form a smile and look in his direction. I could tell by his facial expression that he was being sincere. “Would you like some wine?” I asked.
“Yes, please.” He said as he shifted his weight to both legs and made his way over to me, wafting the air from the sauce pan to his nostrils. “It smells heavenly.”
He kept complimenting my cooking skills all throughout dinner and I continued to blush at his sweet words, but as the night went on and we continued talking, I felt more at ease with him than I had ever felt with anyone. It was as if I had known him for years.
I started to clean up from dinner when he stopped me. “You cooked, I clean. That’s the rule.”
“But you’re a guest,” I started to protest, but he handed me my glass of wine and directed me to sit and to be completely honest, I don’t think I could have disobeyed him with the look of intent he was giving me. How he could make me so weak in the knees, I’ll never know, but I prayed to God, he was unaware of this power he held over me. I could tell by the smirk on his face that he wasn’t. Yes, he was aware, he was very, very aware.
I sat at the table, my right leg crossed over my left knee, watching him load the sink with water.
“There’s a dishwasher, you know?”
“Yeah, but there’s only a few dishes, and besides, I don’t mind.”
I shrugged my shoulders and drank my wine, and sat in a comfortable silence until “I Won’t Give Up,” started to play. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, listening intently to the words until I felt Jared grab my hand.
“Dance with me?”
We swayed around the kitchen and I couldn’t get over the way he was looking at me. Never in my life had any man looked at me the way he did, not even my late husband. He looked as if he was witnessing an anomaly, something magical, something he had never seen before. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his beautiful stare and I began to wonder how his kiss would taste.
“You have the sweetest and softest eyes I have ever seen,” he finally whispered.
I couldn’t manage to get the words out of my mouth, I just stood there, gazing back into his beautiful, brown eyes, wondering how someone I didn’t even know could give me these feelings so quickly. I inhaled sharply, and he caught it, pulling me closer, his scent intoxicating me more than the wine. “Thank you,” I finally managed. The song changed at least three different times, slow, fast, it didn’t matter, we continued dancing slowly just the same.
We ventured out to the front porch with yet another glass of wine and the tarts. We sat close to one another, learning more about each other and watched as day turns to dusk behind the Seattle skyline.
To be continued….
Kristian L. Weigman