Flash Fiction Friday - Your cat attacked me.
Happy Friday, lovelies! Eek! This storyline is turning out to be so much fun! I am loving Brooke and her impulsiveness and not stopping whatever comes out of her mouth! Hope you enjoy this week’s flash!
Writing Prompt ~ Your cat attacked me. (Provided by Lisa) Scene #3
Brooke snatched the doughnut, not even caring she told herself to stay away from the bag the rest of the day. And she even jogged to make up for scarfing the ones previously.
But she didn’t care.
That nasty detective was asking questions, looking at her funny, and making her nerves skyrocket. It was a terrible habit, but she ate when she was stressed. Or threw on the most sappiest, saddest movie she could find and balled her eyes out—which she couldn’t do in the moment with that terrible detective in her house. Not the best way to relieve her stress, but it made her feel better to think she was crying over the movie and not her sad, pitiful life.
A throat cleared.
She looked up from the bag, her hand hidden inside.
Damn. She hadn’t even had a chance to grab a doughnut and stuff it down her throat before he came in.
“Ms. Duncan—”
“Brooke is fine. No need for formalities.” It reminded her of her aunt that she never got along with. No, thanks. Didn’t need that reminder at a time like this.
Then she drew two doughnuts out and held her hand toward him. “Doughnut?”
He stepped closer, his brows puckered, as if he might actually take a doughnut.
Until Willow screeched, jumped on his leg, dug her claws in, and then raced around the kitchen before stopping by her feet.
“Shit. Damn cat.” Detective Walker rubbed his leg, then groaned. “Your cat attacked me.” His irritate gaze met hers. “She ripped my pants.”
Brooke leaned over the island counter a bit and grimaced at the small tear in his nice black pants.
Whoopsies. Well, it’s not like she had control over Willow. Sure, she bought Willow, gave her a home, but that cat never listened to her. Willow lived in her world, and expected everyone to follow her rules.
She didn’t know what to say. So, she brought a doughnut to her mouth and demolished it in one bite.
Meow.
Brooke looked down at Willow, arched a brow—silently begging her to knock it off—then shot her gaze back to the detective.
Still chewing a bit of the doughnut, she said, “There’s your alibi. Willow’s always straightforward in her communication.”
A slow, seductive—the man had the most delectable lips to look at—smile appeared. “I can’t tell if you’re just plain crazy or scared about something.”
Whoa! Her mind veered completely off course there. Why was she thinking about his lips in any manner? And her? Crazy? Only on Tuesdays because it was garbage day and she had a weird thing about touching the garbage can.
She shivered just thinking about it.
“Do you know something,” he paused, stepping closer to the counter. “You can tell me anything, Brooke.”
She knew nothing. Shock was still coursing through her veins her asshole, jerk-off boss was dead. Sure, she hated the guy, but she would never wish anyone dead no matter how terrible of a person they were.
“Doughnut?” She held out her hand again with the remaining doughnut still sitting there. The powdered sugar was a bit melted and one side was crushed. She might’ve been squeezing her hand, especially when he moved closer again to the counter.
“No, thanks.” He smiled. A full-blown smile that had her squishing the doughnut in her hand and grabbing the counter with her free hand to keep herself upright.
Talk about knocking her off her feet. The man’s smile lit up the room and enhanced his already handsome features.
“Tell me about your last interaction with your boss.”
Despite his smile, her insides gurgled with unease. She did not want to talk about anything. Definitely nothing about her boss. She had no idea who murdered him, but it wasn’t her.
“I should fix your pants. That was so rude of Willow. Take them off, I’ll patch it up.”
Low laughter echoed between them as his lips split into a charming grin. “I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone who surprises me every time they speak.”
Oh, dear.
Her and stress…yeah, it didn’t mix well at all.
She brought her hand filled with the crushed doughnut to her mouth and chomped down on all the pieces. Even licked her hand to get all the crumbs, making sure each piece disappeared. Very unladylike. She could even hear her aunt’s nasally voice in ear, berating her for such insolent actions.
Just one of the many reasons she didn’t date either.
Look up the word awkward, and you’d find a picture of her in all its glory.
“If I take my pants off…for you to fix the rip,” he said with a wink, “will you answer my questions?”
Oh, dear, dear, dear.
What had she gotten herself into?
♥♥♥
If you’d like to start the story at the beginning, you can find the other scenes here:
Scene 1 | Scene 2
Writing Prompt ~ Your cat attacked me. (Provided by Lisa) Scene #3
Brooke snatched the doughnut, not even caring she told herself to stay away from the bag the rest of the day. And she even jogged to make up for scarfing the ones previously.
But she didn’t care.
That nasty detective was asking questions, looking at her funny, and making her nerves skyrocket. It was a terrible habit, but she ate when she was stressed. Or threw on the most sappiest, saddest movie she could find and balled her eyes out—which she couldn’t do in the moment with that terrible detective in her house. Not the best way to relieve her stress, but it made her feel better to think she was crying over the movie and not her sad, pitiful life.
A throat cleared.
She looked up from the bag, her hand hidden inside.
Damn. She hadn’t even had a chance to grab a doughnut and stuff it down her throat before he came in.
“Ms. Duncan—”
“Brooke is fine. No need for formalities.” It reminded her of her aunt that she never got along with. No, thanks. Didn’t need that reminder at a time like this.
Then she drew two doughnuts out and held her hand toward him. “Doughnut?”
He stepped closer, his brows puckered, as if he might actually take a doughnut.
Until Willow screeched, jumped on his leg, dug her claws in, and then raced around the kitchen before stopping by her feet.
“Shit. Damn cat.” Detective Walker rubbed his leg, then groaned. “Your cat attacked me.” His irritate gaze met hers. “She ripped my pants.”
Brooke leaned over the island counter a bit and grimaced at the small tear in his nice black pants.
Whoopsies. Well, it’s not like she had control over Willow. Sure, she bought Willow, gave her a home, but that cat never listened to her. Willow lived in her world, and expected everyone to follow her rules.
She didn’t know what to say. So, she brought a doughnut to her mouth and demolished it in one bite.
Meow.
Brooke looked down at Willow, arched a brow—silently begging her to knock it off—then shot her gaze back to the detective.
Still chewing a bit of the doughnut, she said, “There’s your alibi. Willow’s always straightforward in her communication.”
A slow, seductive—the man had the most delectable lips to look at—smile appeared. “I can’t tell if you’re just plain crazy or scared about something.”
Whoa! Her mind veered completely off course there. Why was she thinking about his lips in any manner? And her? Crazy? Only on Tuesdays because it was garbage day and she had a weird thing about touching the garbage can.
She shivered just thinking about it.
“Do you know something,” he paused, stepping closer to the counter. “You can tell me anything, Brooke.”
She knew nothing. Shock was still coursing through her veins her asshole, jerk-off boss was dead. Sure, she hated the guy, but she would never wish anyone dead no matter how terrible of a person they were.
“Doughnut?” She held out her hand again with the remaining doughnut still sitting there. The powdered sugar was a bit melted and one side was crushed. She might’ve been squeezing her hand, especially when he moved closer again to the counter.
“No, thanks.” He smiled. A full-blown smile that had her squishing the doughnut in her hand and grabbing the counter with her free hand to keep herself upright.
Talk about knocking her off her feet. The man’s smile lit up the room and enhanced his already handsome features.
“Tell me about your last interaction with your boss.”
Despite his smile, her insides gurgled with unease. She did not want to talk about anything. Definitely nothing about her boss. She had no idea who murdered him, but it wasn’t her.
“I should fix your pants. That was so rude of Willow. Take them off, I’ll patch it up.”
Low laughter echoed between them as his lips split into a charming grin. “I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone who surprises me every time they speak.”
Oh, dear.
Her and stress…yeah, it didn’t mix well at all.
She brought her hand filled with the crushed doughnut to her mouth and chomped down on all the pieces. Even licked her hand to get all the crumbs, making sure each piece disappeared. Very unladylike. She could even hear her aunt’s nasally voice in ear, berating her for such insolent actions.
Just one of the many reasons she didn’t date either.
Look up the word awkward, and you’d find a picture of her in all its glory.
“If I take my pants off…for you to fix the rip,” he said with a wink, “will you answer my questions?”
Oh, dear, dear, dear.
What had she gotten herself into?
♥♥♥
If you’d like to start the story at the beginning, you can find the other scenes here:
Scene 1 | Scene 2
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