Setting Up a Steamy Scene - the Preliminaries for My First Sexy Sequence in 'Reunion: Coda'
Maddie, as rendered by DALL-E 3 |
Today was an important day in the progress of my first novel, Reunion: Coda. That's because I not only finished the first scene of Chapter 15, but also wrote an entire second scene as well.
I'm especially thrilled because Scene Two of Chapter 15 is, incidentally, my first attempt to write a steamy scene between Prof. Jim Garraty and his new love interest, Maddie.
I'm not going to spoil the scene itself on this post, but I will share the leadup to it here:
1
A Quiet Morning in Queens
Saturday, March 11, 2000, Maddie’s Apartment
The soft light of a partly cloudy morning spills through the
east-facing kitchen window, casting a warm, diffused glow across the room. The
walls, painted in light, airy colors, are brightened by sunflower motifs on the
curtains and matching towels. Among the cheerful decor, a red telephone box
cookie jar and a miniature Big Ben stand as proud reminders of Maddie's English
heritage.
Still clad in the blue Arrow shirt I borrowed, I've slipped
my suit pants back on, a necessary precaution against the prying eyes of Mrs.
Benitez next door. I move about the kitchen with a practiced quietness,
gathering cooking implements and ingredients to prepare a breakfast fit for a
queen—or at least, a jet-lagged English rose.
The sizzle of bacon, sweetened with sugar, fills the air,
accompanied by the soft clatter of the spatula against the pan as I scramble
the eggs. I'm careful not to make too much noise, humming "All the Things
You Are" under my breath. The toast pops up with a satisfying click, and I
pour the Maxwell House 1892 blend into two mugs, the rich aroma mingling with
the breakfast symphony.
Outside, the city is waking up. The distant murmur of
traffic blends with the occasional bark of a neighborhood dog, punctuating the
morning calm. From the apartment next door, a couple argues in rapid Spanish,
their words a passionate soundtrack to the otherwise peaceful morning.
Just as I'm about to plate the food, I hear a voice, still
laced with the remnants of sleep but unmistakably delighted. "Something
sure smells good! I didn’t know you were a short-order cook, a scholar, and an
author!" Maddie's voice carries through the kitchen as she appears in the
doorway, her hair tousled in that 'just out of bed' way, wrapped in a pale pink
terrycloth bathrobe over her Winnie the Pooh pajamas. The sight of her, so
unexpectedly radiant, brings a smile to my face that I hope conveys all the
affection I feel at that moment.
“The only history I’ll be making this morning is in culinary
arts. But for you, Maddie, I’d happily trade manuscripts for menus any day.”
Maddie chuckles, a sound as melodious as her piano playing,
and with a twinkle in her hazel eyes, she says, "Oh, I'm sure you're a man
of many talents, Jim. And that bacon smells heavenly. Let me guess, you
remembered I told you that my sister dusted bacon strips with sugar before
frying." Her voice carries the warmth of a shared secret, a testament to
the small, intimate details that weave the fabric of our growing connection.
I chuckle, flipping the bacon with a flourish. "You
know, Maddie, they say an elephant never forgets, but I think I've got them
beat. It's all about applying new information to the task at hand—like
remembering your sister's sweetened bacon trick."
Maddie's laughter is the music of the morning as she settles
into one of the chairs by the smallish round table in our kitchen nook. "I
must say, Jim, you're quite the quick study," she compliments, her eyes
sparkling with mirth.
I nod, considering her words. "I had a plan, you know.
I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed—'brekkie,' as you'd call it—to help with
the jet lag. But it seems I'm missing a crucial piece of equipment." I
gesture around the kitchen. "Do you have a breakfast tray?"
"Oh, I don't have one of those," she admits, a
hint of disappointment in her voice.
A mental note is made: find a breakfast tray. It would be a
useful addition to either her apartment or mine, especially for moments like
these.
We enjoy our breakfast, the simple pleasure of shared
company elevating the meal. I can't help but marvel at how gorgeous Maddie
looks, her pink terrycloth bathrobe and tousled hair adding to her charm. It's
a casual beauty, unpretentious and genuine, and it's utterly captivating.
As the hands of the clock inch towards noon, the sun climbs
higher, casting a bright, assertive light through the kitchen window. The
remnants of our breakfast sit contentedly on our plates, a silent testament to
the morning's shared pleasures.
With a slight clearing of my throat, I address Maddie, a
trace of nervousness betraying my usual composure. "Sweets, would it be
alright if I took a shower here?" I inquire, acutely aware of my lack of
preparation for an impromptu overnight stay.
Her reply is quick and tinged with humor. "Of course,
but just so you know, don’t be too surprised if there’s another live creature
in there with you," she teases, a mischievous glint in her eye suggesting
the presence of more than just soap and shampoo. With a light laugh, Maddie
excuses herself to the bathroom and returns moments later, her hands presenting
a pristine toothbrush, still sealed in its packaging, and a stick of Secret
deodorant. "Bought this last month at CVS—haven't even used it yet,"
she says, her smile widening. "And about the deodorant... well, I hope you
don't mind smelling like 'Powder Fresh' for the day," she adds, her eyes
sparkling with amusement.
Gratitude mixes with amusement as I accept her offerings.
"Thank you, Maddie. You're a gem," I say, my heart lightened by her
playful spirit.
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