For years, my lady has been asking me to write a romance story. I must admit, this is the most difficult genre for me to partake. Seeing how most of my writings are biographical, writing fiction has always been a challenge for me.
I have never been a mushy type, and I have never sat and read through an entire Harlequin Romance novel. Hell, I have never sat and even picked one up. I did however, notice the covers. The covers of those novels always feature some long haired muscled up dude with his shirt open, and he is usually holding some damsel in distress in his arms. There are always horses in the background, and the titles usually describe some explicit affair, which some women find to be exciting. B.O.R.I.N.G. if you ask me.
Nonetheless, I will give it a try. The thought of writing one of those stories excites me almost as much as eating oatmeal, which I also hate.
Her name was Bobbie, a boy’s name, but she was far from a boy, as her femininity was evident in everything she did. She had the body of a model and men everywhere dropped at her feet. Alex could have any man she wanted, but men usually acted like goofs in her presence. All she ever desired was a man who could love her for who she was, not how she looked.
One day while at work, Bobbie toiled about herself, keeping as busy as possible. Working as a dog groomer, Bobbie rarely met many men, but on this day, her life would change forever. In walked a man with eyes that captivated her mind the instant he walked into the room. She had been grooming a prize winning poodle, and in her dismay, she accidentally shaved the fur off the poor dog’s tail. She began to shake feverishly, but he quickly calmed her down with his soft voice. She looked into his blue eyes, which were bluer than the ocean on a calm day, and she could see kindness and wonder. His strong hands reached and caught her as she fell into his arms. His long hair tickled her face as his muscular body acted quickly to hold her just right.
Despite the fact that the frightened poodle ran out the door and into the street, Bobbie didn’t care. She continued staring into those eyes, and nothing else, not the threat of her job, not the barking of the other dogs in the room, not even the noise from the car brakes as they nearly hit the scared poodle bothered her.
Tom was his name, and as she read the name tag on his shirt, she was amazed at how contented she felt in his arms. He went to say something, but she quickly hushed him so that she could admire his manly looks.
“I want you” she said, and she felt foolish acting like a schoolgirl in his presence. “Ma’am, I just want to ask you something, something very important” he said, in a rough husky voice. “Anything, ask me anything!” she demanded, forcefully.
“Do you have change for the meter?” he asked. Her smile quickly disappeared, as she came to realize just why he came into her shop. She quickly realized that fate had a weird way of introducing them, and once again she acted like a schoolgirl.
“Don’t worry about change for the meter,” she said, “I have plenty for you.” He smiled as she handed him change for a toonie and he was out the door. She was amazed that he spoke to her and he didn’t once stare at her ample chest like most men do.
She watched her dream guy leave the shop, and a tear came to her eyes when she feared not seeing him again. “Tom” she said, “I didn’t get any more than his first name, what is wrong with me?”
When she went home, she could think of nothing but this fantastic specimen of a man. She almost neglected feeding her dogs as she sad dumbfounded in the living room, staring into space, dreaming of the romantic times she could be spending with Tom.
The next day, as she was busy at work, he came in again. This time, he didn’t ask for change. “I have to ask you,” He said, “What is your name?”
“Bob” she replied, stuttering her name. “Bobbie Hancock” she finished. “Well you certainly don’t look like any Bob I ever seen,” he joked. Tom asked her when she finished work for the day, and if she had plans for the evening.
That evening, Bobbie hurried home to put on her best dress. He had asked her to the awards show at the local theater, a place that Bobbie had avoided all her life. “I never feel good about that place, too many couples” she thought, but this time would be different, she would not be alone.
Tom was right on time, and as Bobbie struggled not to stare, she was so fascinated with his manly looks that she had to work hard to keep from looking at him continuously.She giggled when he spoke. This was not like her, she was usually the one in control.
The night went splendid, and after the awards, Tom asked if she would like to come into his home for a nightcap. Bobbie was always a respectable woman, and she was definitely not into sex on the first date, but she wanted Tom at any cost, and she would have him if she got the chance, no matter how early in the relationship. She quickly accepted his request.
His home was beautiful, with the finest furniture and exquisite paintings adorning the walls. She wanted to know everything, but at this point, she didn’t care what he did, where he came from, or if he was with anyone, she just wanted to have him hold her in his arms, his strong, muscular arms.
(To be continued once I have the stomach to write more of this dribble)
I invite ideas to help finish this story