* * * Disclaimer * * *
Scene is Adult Only (Age 18 and up)
* * * Disclaimer * * *
My Hiding Woman
Such sweet ambrosia hovers in the wake of her absence. Her
sweet nectar beckons to me even though she’s on the other side of the street.
What am I to do? I’ve watched for days and still there my beauty is oblivious
to me. I’m at a loss. Approaching her seems wise, but wrong. Instincts scream
let her come to me, but what if she doesn’t. It is as if she has no clue I’m
around. I may watch from afar, but everyone can see me.
“Back again are we?” The waiter laid a roll of silverware
down. “Now, I know my coffee is good, but it’s nowhere good enough for the same
city dweller to enjoy for three days in a row when there’s a perfectly high
price coffee house across the street.”
“What can I say, I know what I like.”
The waiter stared across the street and said, “Sure you do.
Most everyone likes our local beauty, Miss Moon-Whisperer.”
Why was she using such an odd name? Her father was a born
and bread American. Her mother’s family called Ireland home. There was not one
bit of Native American coursing through her veins, as her last name insinuates.
“She fancy herself some kind of Native American? Sure don’t
look like one. The surname makes me think of a name that loses it’s meaning in
translations.” I righted the upside down coffee cup.
The waiter poured coffee and said, “Mr. Franks, do you
honestly think I’m going to buy into your little charade of not knowing the
story behind Miss Moon-Whisper and her name.” The waiter lifted an eyebrow and
waited for him to answer.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what you mean.” I took a sip of
the coffee.
“Not buying it. You told me the other day your were here on
assignment for Station 12, which means you are most likely a reporter.” The
waiter sat his coffee pot on the table behind him.
“More like a background researcher.” Not a complete lie, but
the waiter kept his eye lifted as if my answer did nothing for him.
“Of course you are,” the waiter said and retrieved his
coffee pot. “So, what exactly are you researching in our fair town?”
“There’s a story in works about the town founders. I was
given a list of forty towns and told to gather as much history as I could.”
None of his answer was a lie. A bit of omission, because I changed my
assignment the moment I spotted the grown up version of the one I’d sought for
twenty-two years. Never expected her to be such a beauty, although she does
resemble her mother with the bright red hair and pale Irish skin. There’s very
little resemblance of her father, which is strange. Most half-breeds lean more
toward their human parentage than their blood-letter’s side.
“If you truly don’t know the history behind Miss
Moon-Whisper name then you will soon enough.” The waiter grinned and walked
towards the counter where a customer waited to pay.
I sipped the coffee and returned my gaze across the street.
Miss Moon-Whisper was gone, but her presence lingered so she was close by.
“Why are you watching me?” A soft-sexy voice asked.
It was her, I knew, but found myself unable to look her way.
Twenty-two years of hoping and longing to relocate the one fate promised me was
over, if she could be convinced to accept me.
“You going to ignore me after you’ve stalked me for days?”
With slow, purposeful movement I turned my head and inhaled.
Shocked to find the scent of vanilla. The lack of the metal that clings to our
kind was nowhere to be found. How was it possible? I’d know my mate anywhere,
even after she came into her blood-letting powers. So, where was her tell-tell
sign? Did this have to do with her wrong name? Is this what the waiter was
referring to?
“Either explain yourself or don’t follow me again.” Miss
Moon-Whisper stood for another moment and then started to walk away.
“Fine,” I said before she made her second step. “Sit and
tell me why you are hiding.”
Miss Moon-Whisper spun around and lifted an eyebrow. “I’ll
sit, but I hide nothing.”
·
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Hope all has an amazing upcoming week. Don’t forget to let
your imagination soar when you read and write.
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