TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "MINT"

 

Howdy! Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where writers write fiction stories to word prompts. This week the word prompt is "mint." We have another episode of "The Kicker's Story, Part One." Again from Dale's pov. 

Don't forget to read the other stories. You'll find them HERE. Thanks for stopping by. 

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“Seriously. A kicker’s career can be real short. You know. One injury, a badly turned ankle, and you’re done.”

“True.”

“I don’t have any other skills, so I have to save money. It’s gotta take me through my old age.”

He pulled up in front of a modest five story apartment building, not what she expected. He parked on the street. When he unlocked his front door, her nerves kicked up. What had she done? She turned, but he grabbed her arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“This is a mistake. Please take me home. I’ll deal with the car tomorrow,” she said, staring at his hand gripping her arm.

He dropped it. “Hey, look. It’s okay. Really. Honestly. Come on. Don’t be silly. If you’re late tomorrow, you’ll get docked.”

Robbie was right. The General Manager was a real stickler about showing up on time.  Trapped, her eyes grew moist.

“Hey! Tears? Come on. I’m not the big bad wolf, I promise.” He took her in his arms. “You’re trembling. You’re really scared of me?”

“Uh, no. Yes. Well, maybe.”

Robbie held her close and stroked her hair. She nestled her face into his shoulder. Not usually one to lose her cool, Dale struggled to keep it together. Robbie led her into his apartment.

Just as he said, it was a spacious one-bedroom with a sofabed in the living room. Dale took a deep breath and let it out. At least he told the truth about that. She bet it was in mint condition, too. Most of the women who stayed there sure didn’t sleep in the living room!

She chuckled.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing. You told me the truth.”

“Of course. Why would I lie?”

“Don’t you lie to women all the time?”

He shrugged. “I don’t call it lying. I tell them what they want to hear.”

“That you’re the love of their life?”

“No. That they are the only one – and in that moment, they are.”

Dale whistled. “Wow. That’s pretty outrageous.”

“It’s true. I’m not thinking about other women when I’m with whoever I’m with.”

“Really?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“Rhonda works in a beauty salon and likes cheese. Valerie is a paralegal with red hair who loves hamburgers.”

“You’ve categorized them by what they do and what they like to eat?”

He shook his head. “You’ve got this all wrong. I’m not a man who destroys women. I love women.”

“Lots and lots of women.” She stared at him.

“Is there a limit on how many women a man can love? Is there a set number. And after that you become, what?”

“A man-whore?”

He laughed. “I don’t break hearts. Most of the women get their little thrill having an affair with a famous football player. When they discover I’m just ordinary, they move on.”

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT WEEK - "THE KICKER'S STORY, PART 1"

 

Howdy and welcome! 

It's picture prompt week where we write  to a picture and keep our stories 300 words or less. This week we have another episode of "The Kicker's Story, Part 1" from Dale's point-of-view. Do you agree with her? Don't forget to read the wonderful stories by other authors. Find them HERE. 

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She locked her car and slid into the front seat next to Robbie.

“Would you mind staying at my place? I have practice tomorrow afternoon. I can take you right to your car and change the tire, instead of picking you up and then coming back to change the tire.”

Dale shook her head. She knew it. Here it comes, the seduction. And she was ready to give him a second chance, well, almost ready.

“Forget it. Drop me at the nearest gas station,” she said.

“No, wait! I promise to leave you alone. I have a pull-out couch I got for visits with my mother. I promise, it’s totally innocent.”

She eyed his face. He looked honest, but this was Robbie Anthony. No way.

“Really. It would save me a lot of time. If you want me to drop you at a gas station, I will. But I don’t think it’s safe.”

“And spending the night at your place is?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely. I promise.” He raised his right hand.

She couldn’t argue with his logic. If he meant it, his place was safer than a gas station she didn’t know late at night.

“Okay.” Her nerves kicked up. She didn’t believe him but what other option did she have?

He started the car. “You know, Dale, I admire you. You’re not like other girls.”

“Really?” She raised both eyebrows.

“No. You’re not looking to trap me. You drive an inexpensive car, dress normal, not flashy.”

“Yeah, well I am normal. What’s the big deal?”

“A lot of girls are looking for a sugar daddy. Someone to blow a lot of money on them. I don’t do that.”

“No? Then how do you get all those women?”

He laughed and blushed. “Charm.”

Now it was her turn to laugh.

TUESDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "PLANT"

 

Howdy! We have another episode of "The Kicker, Part 1" with Dale's point-of-view. Don't miss the great stories from my fellow authors. Find their work HERE. Thanks for stopping by.

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At least he didn’t flood her phone with ridiculous, salacious texts. Instead she got, “Good morning.” “Goodnight.” And “How was your day?” From Robbie. Really? Did he actually have a human side?

She’d send one-word replies and never text him first. Annoyed with herself for opening the door, she gave him short shrift – minimal replies, and ignoring any frivolous texts. He wasn’t as flirtatious as she expected, but seemed to want to become friends. Hah! Friends? A woman become friends with the mad seducer? It was beyond her imagination.

“How come you don’t answer me?” he'd asked.

“Busy. Working,” she replied. He needed to get the message. Just because he wanted to turn over a new leaf, she had a long memory and would not be letting her guard down any time soon. “Maybe in the next millennium,” she muttered to herself, stuffing her phone back into her gym bag. She planted her feet squarely in the "Don't trust Robbie Anthony" camp and refused to budge.

Then it happened. On a cold, windy night in November, her car got a flat tire. It was dark and rain threatened. The last thing she wanted to do was change a flat. Since she’s never changed one before, she had no clue if she could manage alone.

She checked her bank balance. Uh, no extra money in there to pay a tow truck and a garage to change it. Frustrated, alone, and vulnerable, she fought back panic and tears.

“Don’t be a dumbass. Crying won’t help.”

A flash of headlights in her rearview mirror struck terror into her heart. Even small towns like this one had serial killers. Frozen with fear, she made sure the doors were locked.

She jumped at a knock on the window. Terrified, she glanced over to see Robbie Anthony standing outside.

“Flat tire? Come on.” He motioned for her to open the door.

She rolled down the window.

“Let me take you home. I can change it tomorrow when it’s light. I’ll drive you back to pick it up.”

Dale sighed in relief. Never had she ever thought she’d be happy to see him. Boy, was she wrong!

That's all until next week! 

Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Orange"

 

Howdy! We have another episode of "The Kicker's Story, Part 1" - but this time we have Dale's perspective! When you've finished reading, hop on over to the other great stories on Tuesday Tales HERE. Thanks for stopping by. 

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Dale arrived at the stadium early. She yawned, tired from her night moonlighting at The Savage Beast, Carla and Trunk Mahoney’s bar and restaurant.

In the massage room, the flashing light on the landline indicated a message. She raised her eyebrows and pressed the button.

After listening, Dale stared at the device. Could that really have been Robbie Anthony, seducer extraordinaire? Unable to trust her ears, she played the message two more times. What happened? Had he actually turned into a human being instead of an insatiable animal? No, not possible.

Should she give him her cell number or simply ghost him?

“Ghost him,” she said out loud. After opening her locker and hanging up her coat she wondered.

“Ask Carla,” she muttered, searching her bag for her orange
phone.

“Dale? What is it?” Carla moaned into the phone.

“Oh, God. I woke you up. I’m so sorry.”

“What’s the problem? Trouble?”

Dale explained about Robbie’s message.

“Should I give him my cell number? My brain says ‘no’, but then again, doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

“Sure, why not? I know you have a thing for him, even though you don’t admit it.”

“I do not!”

“Come on, Dale. It’s me, Carla. If he turns back into a creep you can always block him.”

“True. Okay.”

Not ready to actually talk to him, she sent him a text.

“Here’s my number. But if you don’t behave like a gentleman, I’ll block you. No dick pics, no crude language and stuff. One strike and you’re gone.” She typed as she said it out loud. Sounded harsh, but he deserved it. What could he expect with the way he’d behaved.

Okay, so maybe Carla was right, and she was curious – just curious – about going on a date with him. Remembering what an obvious mover he was, she made a face.

“What am I doing?”

She shook her head and hit “send” anyway. After all, what did she have to lose?

Tuesday Tales - Word prompt "Fall"

 

When the game was over, C

Welcome! This week we have another episode of "The Kicker, Part 1", but we hear from Dale, too! Don't forget to check out the other great stories. Find them HERE.  Thanks for stopping by! 

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The Coach slapped him on the back.

“Great game, Anthony.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever you’re doing different, keep it up.”

Robbie nodded. He could hardly wait to try out some ideas on Dale his teammates had shared.

“Flowers,” Griff Montgomery said.

“Listen, really listen to her. Then repeat something she said the day before,” Buddy said.

“Take her to a chick flick.”

“Take her to dinner, but don’t make a pass at her.”

“Make a picnic in front of a fire in the fireplace and keep your hands to yourself.”

“Be respectful.”

“Don’t touch her.”

“Ask her about her day.”

“Call her up just to talk.”

Robbie put all the suggestions into his phone. When he got home after the game, he reviewed the advice while he chowed down on a take-out steak dinner.

When he finished eating, he picked up the phone. He dialed the number he had for Dale, but it went straight to voicemail. It was her work number. Damn! He didn’t even have her home number.

He shook his head. He’d have to use what he had.

“Hi, Dale. Sorry to call on your work number, but I don’t have your cell. I was just wondering how your day went today? I saw you had a full schedule before the game. I hope you’re relaxing now. Maybe watching a movie or something? Just thinking about you and how hard your job is. Here’s my number, in case you ever want to talk. Bitch about stuff or whatever.”

Robbie added his number and ended the call. He face-palmed and exerted all his control to keep from throwing his phone against the wall.

“I sound like an idiot! Like some twelve-year-old asshole who doesn’t know shit about women,” he said aloud, shaking his head. “This will never work. Why did I have to fall for her?”

TUESDAY TALES - PICTURE PROMPT WEEK - ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE KICKER STORY, PART 1

 

Howdy! This week we write to a picture prompt. Of course I picked the locker room! Each story has to be no more than 300 words. That can be challenging. We have another excerpt of "The Kicker's Story, Part 1" this week. Bop on over to the other blogs HERE. Thanks for stopping by.

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Robbie tried every trick he knew to get Dale Sawyer interested, but nothing worked. She looked at him as if he was a piece of cellophane, when she even bothered to shift her gaze in his direction, which wasn’t often.

One day on the way to the locker room, Tuffer Demson, an offensive lineman stopped him.

“Look, I agree with the guys. But what’s making me fuckin’ nuts is you have no effing clue how to talk to this chick.”

“What do you mean?”

“Damn, Robbie. You’ve been around so many women, haven’t you listened?”

“Some of the time.” Robbie reconsidered. “Most of the time. But when they start yakking about movie stars or bra sales…”

Tuffer interrupted. “They to be heard-seen…”

“Oh, I see Dale all right. I’d like to see more!” Robbie snickered.

Tuffer shook his shoulders. “You idiot. Not like that. Like people. They want to be heard like people, not just pussy. Okay? And be nice. Listen.”

“I’m nice. I’m real nice.”

“I mean outside the bedroom. Do nice things. Bring flowers. Candy. Notice stuff. Say something nice.”

“I’m nice.”

Tuffer shook his head. “You’re not. You’re on the prowl and a woman can smell it a mile away. Especially a smart woman, like Dale. Be genuine. Listen, really listen, and talk to her like she’s a person. She’ll come around.”

“You guarantee it?”

Tuffer nodded. “I do. If you really mean it.”

“Okay. I’ll try it. I need ideas.”

“Tomorrow. At lunch.”

“Thanks, Tuff,” Robbie slapped the young man on the shoulder. “I appreciate it.”

“Anything so I don’t have to witness your slow torture anymore,” Tuffer said, slamming his locker door.

As they headed for the door, a cheer went up from the room.

“It’s about time!” said Buddy Carruthers, wide receiver.

Tuesday Tales - Word Prompt "Anxious"

 

Howdy! Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where authors write stories to word prompts. This week the word prompt is "anxious." We have another episode of "The Kicker's Story, Part 1" today. When you're done, hop on over to the other authors and read their terrific stories. Find them HERE

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On his way back to the locker room to suit up for the game, he whipped out his phone. Checking his calendar, he saw that he needed to leave two tickets for the game at the gate for Michelle and her sister. He’d agreed to take them both to dinner after the game.

He'd offer to drop Michelle home after she stopped for a nightcap at his place. It’s not that he had anything against threesomes, but never with sisters. That was a rule he’d vowed never to break. Michelle had a soft, curvy body he looked forward to touching.

Not like Dale. She had an athlete’s body, slim, trim, firm, and muscular. Small breasts and tightest butt ever. As he pulled his pants on he thought about how different Dale was than the women he pursued. Out loud he said, “What is it with her?”

“Huh?” Trunk asked.

“Nothing.”

Trunk grinned. “Strike out with Dale…again?”

“A temporary setback.”

“Not temporary for you, buddy. Why don’t you admit it? She blocked your kick. You’ve finally found a chick who’s immune to you. Like she’s been vaccinated.”

“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey, guys! Dale’s been vaccinated! She’s got Anti-Anthony bodies now! She’s immune!”

The men laughed and Robbie boiled. If Trunk Mahoney wasn’t twice his size, he’d bust the defenseman’s face. He threw his clothes in the locker and banged it shut. 

After a trip to the box office, he headed for the track to limber up. A slow, easy jog would warm up his leg muscles and give him time to think. He tried to picture Michelle naked, but the image of Dale, in her leggings and sports bra, crowded it out.

 He stopped to down a bottle of water. Nope. He wasn’t anxious to have tonight's after-dinner “dessert” in his bed. He’d take Michelle and her sister to dinner, like he promised, but then – straight home. Both of them. He sighed. Trunk would call it “pussy-whipped”, but Robbie knew it was much more than that.

Dale Sawyer wasn’t like women he knew. Independent, dedicated to her job, and not flirtatious with anyone on the squad – she stood out. She drove an inexpensive car, lived in a low-key apartment complex (yes, he’d checked it out). Modest about her accomplishments, she didn't gossip. He’d never met a girl like her before. If he had any idea what being in love was like, he might think he’d gone that route.

Not him. Nope. Robbie Anthony didn’t want to get married or have a family. He simply wanted to play, and not for keeps.  
 

 That's all for today. Thanks for stopping by.