Romance Writer’s Weekly ~ Love on the Move ~ Flash Fiction
This weeks challenge comes from Marc Stevens – Flash Fiction Challenge: Planes, trains, and automobiles (or even boats) give us a quick scene set on/in a moving vehicle.
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It was just a quick trip into London but every passenger who bumped her arm or jostled her handbag set her heart pounding. Everything was okay, she could do this.
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Checking her ticket for the twentieth time, she looked at the seat numbers posted above. The train jerked forward and she gripped the seatback to steady herself.
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An arm wrapped around her waist, “Easy there, miss.” Rich Scottish vowels rolled off his tongue and the scent of spices filled her head.
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Righting herself as the arm dropped away, Livy turned toward the voice and was trapped by the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes, speckled and bright with amusement. Light brown hair, cropped short and warm tan skin were the perfect frame for those electric eyes.
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He cocked his head and a body melting smile pulled at his lips. “I didn’t mean to startle you. The train moved a bit sooner than expected.” He pointed to the seat ahead to the left. “This is me.”
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Once again, she checked her ticket. “Me too.” It came out more squeak than words and she couldn’t take her eyes away from his lips. Good lord, she was doomed.
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His smile widened and he offered a welcoming hand into the booth seating with four seats facing a small table. They each had the window seat facing each other.
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“I love the train.” He looked out the window as the station fell away. English countryside would soon replace the village and sunshine cast shadows on his angular jaw. “Do you travel to London often?”
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“I’m not a big fan of crowds.” She clutched her purse to her belly hoping looking at the beautiful man across from her would distract her from her panic attacks.
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Concern drew his brows together before he stretched his hand across the table toward her. “I’m Patrick Wallace.”
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“Livy Pruitt.” Sparks shot through her as soon as their fingers touched. Callused, warm and strong, touching Patrick pushed lightning through her veins and warmed her from head to toe. How could a stranger effect her so thoroughly? She should find a conductor and ask for another seat.
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Gathering her courage, she looked into his eyes.
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Wonder, fear, excitement and desire mirrored her own emotions. “Livy Pruitt.” Her name was like a prayer from his lips. “This is going to be an interesting few hours if you don’t run away.”
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“What makes you think I’ll run?” She pulled her hand back and let the cool tabletop chase away the feel of his skin.
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His laugh was full, joyous and sent a pulse directly between her legs. “I’ve seen that look on rabbits running from the hunt.”
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“I’m no rabbit,” she lied. She knew exactly what he meant and she was a scared rabbit. But it hadn’t always been that way.
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Putting his hand over hers, sorrow filled his eyes. “No. Really, I don’t think you are, Livy.”
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I have no idea where Patrick’s and Livy’s story is going, but it sounds like a fun train ride.
Keep on hopping over to Brenda Margriet and see where she moves you.
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This was fun. 😉
She’d better not run…