In the past few weeks, I’ve been taking an hour out of my day to develop several meet-cutes. A meet-cute is a term used in the movie industry illustrating how the main characters in a romance meet for the first time in a funny way. You can see the full definition on dictionary.com under the idiom for cute.
Generating story ideas for future projects can be daunting. A meet-cute is a fun way to jumpstart the creative process. What follows is one of the ideas that came out of this brainstorming.
“You’re not going to school dressed like that!” Sierra Pierson couldn’t quite understand what she was seeing. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the vision of her 15-year-old daughter baring more skin then a whore in a heat wave. Penelope, her sweet, innocent daughter, the daughter that still sleeps cuddling her Teddy, who still asks for a kiss good night, stood in the hallway wearing a skirt so high and tight that if she sat down the action would expose her to all of the free world. And the top…Sierra didn’t even want to think about the image burned on the back of her eyelids.
A curse upon her family was early onset Boobitis, and unfortunately, Penelope had grown into said curse in the last year.
“Penelope Olivia Pierson,” Sierra said, pointing to her daughter’s room. “Go change right now.”
Poppy stiffened. Her mouth just started to open as a knock sounded at the front door. They both looked down the stairs.
“Go!” Sierra said. She wondered who would come knocking so early in the morning.
“No Poppy. I don’t have time for this.” Sierra shook her head and pointed to her daughter. She could tell Poppy was eager for a fight. “I’m late. Why did this have to happen on the first day at the new office? She thought. Dammit! She huffed in exasperation. “Please go change.”
Sierra started to turn for the stairs. The knocking got louder.
“Just a minute!” she yelled. Poppy hadn’t budged.
“Can I at least wear the shirt?” she whined.
Sierra rubbed her temple where a headache started tap dancing, looked up at the cracked ceiling and sighed. The house needed a lot of work and so did Poppy’s sense of decency. Eyes back on Poppy, she gave her her best evil eye that would melt the paint off an icy flagpole. “Only if you keep on your hoody.”
Sierra watched Poppy smirk. Oh, she thought she could get away with something. Not this time.
“You better keep it zipped. I’ll know if you don’t. I have eyes and ears all over this town, even at your school.” She crossed her arms under her own ample breasts.
Her daughter squinted, gave her the lip-curl and looked like she was going to snarl her displeasure, but decided against it. Good thing otherwise Sierra would have to remind her, what a crazy mother could do to embarrass said daughter. In a swirl of thwarted slutdom, Poppy left Sierra to answer the persistent knocking. Sierra ran down the stairs and yanked the door open as her mind whirled with all she had yet to do to get ready for her new job. “What!”
Detective Lawrence (Low) Renicki rolled up to the two-story prairie style house in his pick-up truck and pulled to a stop. Why his best friend, Burk, couldn’t deliver a package to his sister himself, he would never know. But he owed him, and this was the payoff.
Low reached over, grabbed the small brown box and winced. He slowly sat back up and took a couple deep breaths controlling the pain that snuck up on him. It wasn’t as bad as a couple days ago; it was enough to dampen the line of his brow and upper lip though. He’d be dead if it hadn’t for his best friend and partner, Burk, tackling a suspect who’d pulled a weapon and got off a shot.
Low had been recovering for a few weeks now, but it would be a few more before he got back to work. He’d rather be sitting watching a ball game then out running errands, but he owed his friend big time. And this was easy compared to what Burk could have asked for. Walking with a shortened gate, he knocked on the front door. There was no immediate answer but he did hear some yelling. He looked to the side through the narrow window but couldn’t see much through the thin curtain. It sounded like an argument. He lifted his fist and knocked again, his side throbbing with each bang. Low thought he should just go. He needed to get this done and get back home. Before he could knock again, the door opened in a flourish and he almost dropped the small package but his jaw dropped open instead.
All Low could do was stare.
Burk’s sister leaned on the solid wood doorframe, one arm above her head, the other fisted on her hip, the fabric of her very tight, very sheer white camisole, stretched to within an inch of its life. Barely hiding her lace bra, also white, it left little to the imagination. And thank the fashion gods for that, he thought, because they had blessed this woman with the most luscious breasts he’d had ever seen.
“Uh, uh?” Low stammered.
“Well? What do you want?” Sierra questioned with an irritated snap.
Clomping of shoes snapped his eyes to the sound coming down from the second floor. What was her name? Poppy, that was it, Low thought, she was the exact duplicate of her mother, blond hair, blue eyes, a little less curve in the hips, still growing into herself. He guessed, just getting a good hold on her teenage years, maybe.
The girl smiled, looked to her mother and he couldn’t help but look back at Sierra, caught again by all her curves. His fingers twitched to smooth them under the hem of the slick pencil skirt that she had paired with the camisole. He would wrinkle it up as he peeled back the fabric that hugged her hips. Low licked his lips.
When the daughter started laughing, his head snapped up. The woman’s eyes glanced over her shoulder, and then quickly down at where Poppy pointed and laughed. Sierra’s eyes came back up to his and he smiled. He couldn’t help it.
“Oh, shit!” Faster than a cheetah, Sierra disappeared up the stairs. “Just a minute,” she yelled down.
As Poppy turned away and walked through an open doorway toward the back of the house, Low thought he heard her say, “Well, that was fun.” And for the life of him he couldn’t remember why he even stopped by. Oh right, he remembered, the package, and laughed again, waiting for the very sexy Sierra to come back down.
His morning just got a whole lot better.
As I’m modest to a fault–ha ha–no I never happened upon a sexy man on my front porch that was staring at my undressed state.
Started out slow but picked up the pace reading. I enjoyed the story. Did you do this as a teenager and it was missed by your parents?