In her comments from my previous post, Mitch asked if I was writing. Yep. Wanna a look? Word count is now 1354. It was 1200. See? You get more words when you write. Right? LOL
Since many of my visitors are romance readers, I'm hoping this little one will entertain and not bore you. If you want exciting crash 'em/smash 'ems, I'm working on that. It's one of my challenges. I found my hook yesterday, now I have to write it. Anyway, today's offering is:
What's in a name?
Carolina Beacham rolled her eyes in amused exasperation at her mom. Once again, she had to think of a way to get around one of her mother's thinly disguised attempts at matchmaking. This time, just the name of the intended victim had her running.
What was that name again? Oh yeah, Euclid. Who would name their son Euclid?
Carol shook her head, she didn‘t want to know. Her own moniker had caused a few raised eyebrows. Showing any kind of interest is what usually did her in. It was all the incentive her mom needed to push the emotional guilt buttons. Her advice always included the line “try him on for size” and Carol usually chuckled at that. Her mom’s choice of phraseology was a part of her charm. Still, the name, Euclid …
Look who’s talking. Give it up, Carol, what’s in a name anyway?
She picked up her jacket and purse and walked two steps towards the door before her mom's voice stopped her.
"Carolina! Carolina dear, I’ve just remembered something. Could you pick up the two pies I ordered from Mrs. Lane's bakery? I’ve already called her and she said everything is ready. We're having our new neighbors, the Delacortes, over for dinner and their son is home visiting from college. Didn't I tell you? You know how boys like to eat. You can never have too much pie."
Carol snickered to herself. Her mom thought food was the answer to everything. Feeling blue? Have some cookies and milk. Had a bad day? A hunk of icing covered cake cured all ills. Boy troubles? Anything chocolate should do it. Mom would dip into her secret stash of Godiva and share while listening to Carol's tale of woe. Sometimes, just sharing the mutual joy of food was all the conversation needed.
"I got it covered, Mom. Two apple pies from Mrs. Lane's."
"I'll bring the ice cream?"
Carol grinned "And, I'll dress for the occasion. I promise."
Carol blew her mom a kiss and headed out the door with a light heart. She loved living a small town life with its simple pleasures. You never had to lock your door or your car and trust between neighbors was alive and well. It's not a wonder that she had stayed and found work and an apartment in town after college.
The summer sun and moisture laden air wrapped heated arms around her as soon as she stepped off of the porch. Her sundress started to mold itself to her ample feminine curves, sticky from the sweat already beading on her skin. Carol fanned her skirt with fluttering motions in a feeble attempt to cool her skin. She couldn't wait to turn on her car's AC.
Her steps were brisk as she followed the walkway around the porch that led to her car. As soon as she opened the door, her face got slammed with a furnace blast of heat. Carol tried to avoid burning herself on the hot steering wheel by reaching in at an angle to turn the key which she'd left in the ignition. It wasn't there.
She knew without a doubt that she'd left the key in. Her chipper mood began to fray as she leaned farther in, hoping to find the keychain in the shadows under the driver's seat. Sweat collected in earnest, beading and rolling between her breasts and down her back. Not finding her keys and feeling short of breath because of the intense heat, she gave up in disgust. The skirt of her sundress started to ride up her thighs as she backed out of the car. The sound of a throat clearing startled Carol into losing her balance. Scrambling back off the hot leather seat, her sundress twisted upwards to reveal hot pink lace and a heated blush stained her cheeks as she spun around.
She didn’t know whether to scream or curse while plucking at the clinging fabric when her fingers froze in place. Her unvoiced anger faded as her gaze feasted on the man before her. Carol’s eyes flared wide and her breath shifted into excited pants. A sensual heat started to burn and curl inside her body, volcanic compared to the heat of her car.
Leaning against the stucco covered corner of her parent's home was a stranger. He spoke not a word but his eyes danced with dark amusement. Well muscled arms crossed over his chest, making his white muscle T-shirt ride up enough for her to get a tantalizing view of his taut stomach. She was hypnotized by the line of dark hair that teased her senses down to the black leather belt. Hard muscled thighs covered by poured-on blue jeans made her palms itch to touch. He still said nothing, but his eyes never left her face, watching her watch him. Carol dared to look her fill, noticing the definition of his chest , his biceps and down and across towards his hands ... his hands.
Her eyes flew up to his, a demand in their depths. The man pushed himself off of the wall and took a step towards her. He slowly uncrossed his arms from his chest and extended his right arm towards her. Opening his hand palm up, he revealed her key chain.
"Hey!" Carol shouted in shocked anger." Just what do you think you are doing with my keys? I knew I left them in there. What gives you the right to go into my car? Who are you?"
He stared at her for a moment more. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at her with amusement. She found it hard not to drown in his eyes when his gaze was the color of Godiva chocolate. His voice was smooth even though it held a tone of slight admonishment.
"Just being a good neighbor with a friendly warning about the dangers of leaving keys in the ignition of a car. You never know who’ll walk by. A beautiful woman can’t be too careful these days, even in a small town.”
Carol didn’t know whether she should strangle him or moon over him. She decided to tackle the first part of his comment instead.
"It is not neighborly to take my keys. I know all of my parent's neighbors around here. You, sir, are a stranger!"
His lips quirked and he gave a short jerk of his head in acknowledgement.
"I can fix that.” He grinned with dashing aplomb, “Hello, I'm Euclid Delacorte."
Carol was stunned. This was Euclid Delacorte home from school? He was "the boy" with the odd name?
“I’m studying for my Masters but when I can, I drop by to see my parents. I’m glad I chose today, for obvious reasons.”
Euclid held out the key ring to her as he stepped closer. She reached out her hand to take them. As her fingers touched the metal he enclosed his tanned hand over both. His grasp was warm, strong yet gentle. The volcanic heat inside her body jumped to eruptive proportions.
"I know your last name is Beacham, but not your first. Care to share? Seems only fair as you know mine.”
"Carolina." Her voice came out as a breathless whisper.
“Carolina Beacham?” An grin burst across his face, showing even white teeth.
Carol blinked and blinked again. It took a moment for what he said next to register through her lust scrambled brain.
Euclid chuckled. "Interesting name they stuck you with, Carolina."
The irony of his statement didn’t escape her and her eyes glinted with gentle humor.
"My friends call me Carol.”
"Well, Carol Beacham, since our parents are neighbors, don‘t you think we should be friends too?"
Carol felt a physical thrill with Euclid's words. In the sunlight, his eyes looked like sparkling chocolate. He cocked his head to the side in contemplation.
"Carolina and Euclid, what a pair we'll make."
Letting go of her hand and key chain, he laughed.
"What's in a name anyway?"
Her sudden smile was wide and generous. Maybe her mom was right after all.
"Euclid, I hope you like apple pie!"
(OK, being a little cheeky there)
And yes, I probably used "chocolate" a bit too much. But, hey, I LOVE me my chocolate. :-)
On an aside, when I saw this pic, he became the hero in my story.
Thanks for visiting today. Hope you enjoyed yourself. If not, Check out yesterday's post with the weird Squeaker thingy.