For the rest of the RFW poems & stories, by writers who always bring a smile to my face, go here.
Denise (aka L'Aussie) & Francine, thank you so very much for starting this group and giving us such interesting prompts. This week, Challenge #12, is She loves me... She loves me not... She loves me? To be written from male POV.
The Stockbroker and the Steampunk Girl is a stand-alone short story.
Word Count: 392
“Stop asking! I don’t know. I don’t know if I can love you,” Nicole nervously twisted one of the multiple piercings in her right ear.
“I’m trying so hard. I took you to a fancy restaurant for your birthday.” Ugh! Bernie, no whining, he told himself.
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Yes. Sushi. Which means you apparently never paid attention to the billion times I told you I would never, ever eat raw fish, unless I was stranded on a desert island and had already consumed my fellow castaways.”
He laughed, and clutched his chest, “Ya got me!” Maybe he could tease her into a better mood. “They say it’s the thought that counts.”
Nicole snorted, “Apparently not a lot of thinking was involved.”
“What about that watch I gave you, steampunk girl? I paid attention to everything you wear, I even tracked down your favorite artist. You have to admit, that cuff is incredible.”
“True.” Nicole’s expression softened. “That was thoughtful and beautiful, Bernie. Thank you.” She smiled at it on her arm. “I do love it.”
|Available from Urban Hardwear|
Not quite an I love you, but close. His heart, which had been pounding with anxiety under the crisply starched shirt, slowed its frantic beat. Was she... did she...?
She frowned again. “Don’t you realize you almost spoiled it with that crack ‘Now maybe you won’t be so late all the time’?”
“That was a joke, honey.”
“Ye-es... the kind of joke that isn’t really a joke. Behind it you’re serious. And that hurt.”
Crap! She's right. It did bug him when Nicole was late, and he joked about it partly as a way of nudging her to be more time-conscious.
Wasn’t it her spontaneity and utter disregard of anything but living in the moment that made him love her so much? He needed her to love him. On the surface they couldn’t have been more different, yet when he held her close, all was right with the world.
He opened his arms to her. “Forgive me?”
Nicole looked conflicted, then dove in like a cliff-diver entering the water. “I shouldn’t, but somehow I can’t stay mad at you. I do love you, Bernie,” she whispered.
He felt a melting warmth spreading from his heart, and kissed her, holding her like a precious jewel. “I love you, baby. I love you so very much.”
The Romantic Friday Writers weekly blogfest is open to all writers of romantic fiction. Wanna join the party? Click here for submission info.
Please feel free to offer any and all criticism. I'd like this to SELL, so if there's anything that took you out of the story, anything my male character said that you don't find believable coming from a guy, passive voice, present/past tense goofs, misplaced commas, repetitive vocabulary, or other flaws not listed here, please let me know.
P.S. Check back on Monday for links to the Fire Sale Blogfest writers. Or, join in yourself, as long as you can post your story by midnight TONIGHT, July 29, and send in your link.