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xakaraEnjoy.
1) Julia Farris pulled the keys from the ignition and opened the door of the rented Honda Civic. A cold blast of air blew across the lawn, sending the recent fallen snow dancing through the air. Her gaze roamed over the full parking lot. Apparently the holidays still brought in a lot of business for the bed and breakfast. She had missed this place. After so many years of being held prisoner in the dry and weary land of Arizona, she had arrived back in her home town of Edinboro, Pennsylvania. And for the first time in many years, she could say she felt safe.
2) Her gaze became fixed on Webb's Bed and Breakfast where she had spent so much of her junior high and high school days. The three-story Victorian home remained in great repair. She needed something familiar, and the auto pilot portion of her brain had brought her here. She could handle this. This would be easier than facing the ghosts inside her deceased parents' house.
3) She wondered how well Mr. and Mrs. Webb had faired over the years. Only one way to find out. She retrieved her suitcase from the trunk and began the slip and slide walk across the parking area before finally coming to the shoveled walkway. About halfway to the door, she stopped dead in her tracks at the familiar voice that called out a greeting from the front door.
“Julia Floyd.”
4) No one had called her by her maiden name in years, and the sound was oddly comforting and foreign at the same time. The man who had said it brought on a mix of emotions she had no hope of sorting through anytime soon. Mark Webb, her high school sweetheart, filled the doorway with his large frame. The boy she remembered had filled out into this rippling-muscled man.
5) She plastered a smile on her face as she closed the rest of the distance between them. He met her on the covered porch, and she only had a fraction of a second to put her suitcase down before his arms encircled her. When he gave a light squeeze, she flinched and moaned before she could stop herself.
He released her quickly and took a step back from her. “Did I hurt you?”
6) “No. I slipped at the airport and hit my side on one of the hand rails. No big deal.” She hoped he bought the quick lie. She had no desire to go into any explanations right now. “I'm fine really,” she said in response to the nicely arched brow he raised at her. “You look like you are doing well.”
7) 'Well' was a mild term for the way he looked. His light brown hair was cut short and styled in that on purpose disarray that had become popular with men. His bright green eyes were still as captivating as they used to be. Faint laugh lines had started to appear around his lips. The gray thermal shirt he wore had two of its three buttons undone. The fabric stretched tight across his broad chest and over his large biceps. It hung loosely over the top of designer jeans that fit just right over his lean hips.
“I'm doing pretty good.”
“I didn't expect to see you here. But then again I wasn't thinking about this being Thanksgiving weekend either. Of course you would be here to see your parents.”
8) His smile faded slightly as he looked down at her suitcase. “My parents are both dead now.”
“Oh my. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I wouldn't have said anything.”
“No, don't be sorry. You haven't been here since you left after your wedding, so you wouldn't have known. I run the bed and breakfast now.”
Silence stretched between them. She had already opened her mouth and inserted her foot so she was scared to say anything else.
9) “And look at what a bad job I'm doing at being a host by keeping you out in the cold.” He leaned down and picked up her suitcase. “I'll put this in a room for you. If you'd like to go into the kitchen, the wood-burning stove is lit and you can get warm. And I was just about to have some coffee if you'd like to join me.”
She smiled at him again. “That sounds like a plan.”
10) She stomped her feet on the wooden porch to dislodge any snow before entering the house behind him. He went straight for the stairs, and she couldn't help watching his powerful legs and well-muscled backside move as he ascended. She pulled off one boot and then the other, never looking away from him. He paused at the top to look back at her. A smile formed on his lips. Busted. She blushed as she turned and headed in the direction of the kitchen.
11) Not much had changed in the quaint country décor of the house. Everything seemed so familiar. It'd be easy to surround herself in all this and use it as a security blanket. She made her way across the polished hardwood floor to the old wood-burning stove in the corner of the kitchen. Her lips pulled into a smile as she remembered Mrs. Webb threatening to skin her husband alive if he even thought about getting rid of this old thing. She had claimed it added character to the room.
12) Julia stretched her hands out toward the warmth the stove offered and sighed. She'd been robbed of too many years. Her smile faded as she thought of all the people that had been important in her life that she'd never be able to speak to again. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.
“I see you found your way.”
13) She looked over her shoulder at Mark as he entered the kitchen. The realization that she'd actually missed him hit her unawares. Her gaze followed him as he made his way over to the light-stained wood cabinet that held the coffee mugs. He removed two cups and placed them on the white counter top. His mom had also argued for the white counter top to stay during the remodel. She had liked the fact she could use bleach on it and not only kill all the germs but take out any stains from various spills.
“It feels really good to be here.”
He turned and cast a dazzling smile in her direction. “I'm glad to have you here.”
Other Thursday Thirteeners
Don't forget to come back Friday for Crush of the Week and Saturday during the Holiday Blog Hop.
Adding this to my TBR
Date: 2010-12-09 03:01 pm (UTC)PS--Welcome back to TT.
~Skylar Kade~
skylarkade.com/blog
no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 03:35 pm (UTC)p.s. Facebook is being hormonal and won't let me post using that ID so Anonymous it is LOL
Virginia Cavanaugh (or maybe not so anonymous)
That's some good writing, Tex
Date: 2010-12-09 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 06:41 pm (UTC)~Heather
(WordTrix)