And here we go with our first #1linWed prompt of 2022. Whoppee! Up north, it’s cold enough to go ice fishing. Down south, there are fish to fry. Back east there are some big fish, or least they think they are. Out to the west, especially in Hollywood, they fish for compliments. Have I offeneded everyone? Whatever. Idioms, people. It’s all about the idioms. Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Our first THEME of the year is **FISH**. In today’s snippet from the Boston Wolves, Mick needs to fish or cut bait before Shannon goes after other fish in the sea…
“What’s up with you and Mick?” Fiona asked. She sat cross-legged o the floor, her back leaning against Maura’s chair.
“Yes,” Maura agreed. “What’s going on there?”
Shannon chugged a long drink from the bottle of beer in her hand. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about. Mick runs Clancy’s. I work there. That’s it.”
Bridget had just taken a drink from her lass of wine and snorted some through her nose. She hasitly grabbed a napkin and wiped her face and the front of her sweater. “That’s it? The hell you say.”
Another sigh huffed from between Shannon’s lips. “You tell me.”
Fiona rolled her eyes and uttered an exaggerated snort. “He stares at you when you’re workin’ at Clancy’s. Constantly.”
“And he flirts,” Bridget added. “I’ve seen him. Granted, he’s subtle but the flirt is there.”
“You can’t prove any of that by me. Jeez, I’ve tried, but anytime I suggest gettin’…well…together, he shuts me down. Cold. Like walks away and ignores more for days.” Shannon swallowed some beer. “And, yeah, I’ve seen him flirt with lots of girls. And despite what you all think you see when it comes to him an’ me, a girl knows when she’s not wanted. Trust me on that.” She stared at the women sitting around her. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t sweat the small stuff.”
That declaration was greeted with snickers. “Small stuff? Is there anything small about these guys?” Bridget asked, batting her lashes and making a kissy face..
“Like I would know,” Shannon groused.
Fiona peered at her. “And why would ya not? Bowie does nothing small. He’s…insistent that I’m his. I mean, Mick O’Connor is a big boss. You’d think he’d be right on top of things.” She grinned, pink coloring her fair skin, causing her freckles to glow. “Bowie certainly is. On top of things.”
“Shush, Fee. That’s m’brother you’re goin’ on about,” Shannon ordered. “It’s bad enough we live in the same apartment. I don’t need t’know what the devil m’baby brother is up to.”
Fiona’s grin turned cheeky. “He’s up to mmphhmmph.” Shannon smushed her palm against Fiona’s mouth.
Chugging the rest of her beer, Shannon pushed off the couch. “Well, I’ve had enough waitin’ around. Big or small, if Mick O’Connor is too dense to get the message that I’m interested in goin’ the next step with him, then he’s not man enough for me. I’m tired of bein’ celibate and there are other fish in the sea.”
“What about Brendan?” Bridget asked, smirking.
“Ewww. M’brother’s bestie? No.” She gave an exaggerated full-body shudder. “Just…no.”
The sound of what could only be a masculine throat clearing tugged all the women’s eyes to the doorway. Mick O’Connor himself stood there, stony-faced and glowering. His gaze flicked across all of them before coming to a stop on the one with black hair. He pinned Shannon in place with the force of his stare.
She blanched. “Oops.”
“Come with me.” Mick’s voice left her no choice.
There you have it. What do you think Mick is gonna do? Yeah, me too.😉 So, writers, do you have any fish in your WIP? And readers, tough question today. What’s your favorite fish? Mine’s a toss up between lobster and crab. What do I have in my house? Canned tuna. What can I say?