May 17th, With Pride Comes Disgrace

     Today's prompt was to write about a best gift our character was given and to incorporate one of the deadly sins into the story.  The other prompt was to write in third person limited.  This is what I came up with.  This is an excerpt from a work in progress.

     Laurel knelt in front of the huge cedar chest that used to belong to her great-great-great grandmother, debating whether or not she should open it or wait for Deacon to come so they could look through the chest together.  She ran her hand over the lid, feeling the vibrant electricity that emanated from inside.  It reminded her of the time when she was a little girl of seven and would go to visit Great Nana Beverly.

     She smiled now as she remembered the gift she’d received for her birthday that year.  It was a small replica of the book that Great Nana Beverly always carried with her.  Laurel had felt such pride in that gift and had taken it everywhere with her.  There was a look of pride in the older woman’s eyes as she watched her play with her brother, Deacon, and the other children who lived nearby.

     Laurel’s gaze was drawn to the window as she heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the drive.  She smiled, knowing that would be her brother.  He loved his Ducati and was proud of the awards he’d won racing it around the world.

     Just as she stood to go down and meet Deacon, the sound of a second motorcycle pulling into the drive reached her.  She frowned.  Deacon hadn’t said anything about anyone coming with him, then she wondered if it might be the girl that he’d been seeing the past few months.  To date, Deacon had been keeping her under wraps, although there was pride in his voice as he talked about her.

     Laurel reached out to open the front door just as it was opened from the other side.  She grinned at the man standing before her.

     He grinned as he reached out and wrapped his arms around her.  “Hey, sis.”

     Laurel grinned.  “It’s about time you show up.”  A chuckle escaped before she added, “I thought you’d be leading a parade down main street once everyone saw who was in town.”

     He threw his head back and laughed.  “Not me.”  He turned her toward the second man who’d just walked into the house.

     Laurel’s eyes widened in shock as she got her first glimpse of Tucker McCoy, the number one motorcycle racer in the world. 

     Her cheeks flushed as she felt his gaze on her, but she knew she had nothing to be ashamed of as far as her looks went.  She was a couple of inches short of six feet and her body was proportioned very well indeed.  She had ample breasts, a tiny waist, and shapely legs that went on forever.  Her gently curly blonde hair fell to her waist and she knew that she was a beautiful woman.  She was proud of her looks and didn’t mind people knowing it.

     Tucker smiled at her, his black eyes glinting as they gave her a once over before meeting her eyes.  “Nice meeting you.  Deke has been extolling your virtues.”

     Laurel smiled widely.  “He’s the best brother a girl can have.”

     Their hands clasped and Laurel felt the electricity hum through her body.  She was confused by the fire flicking at her nerve endings, though. 

     Tucker bowed over her hand, his eyes hooding as he whispered, “I can see your pride in him.”

     Laurel giggled.  “I’ve heard a lot about your exploits as well.  I believe it’s your sister that he’s dating, isn’t it?”

     The corner of Tucker’s mouth lifted.  “Yes, Deke is dating my sister Theresa.  And I’m a proud brother also.”

     Laurel shivered as Tucker said proud.  That word had been figuring to prominently in her thoughts as well as the conversation in the past hour or so.  First with her thoughts of her great grandmother and now the conversation they were having.  She tried to remember the poem from the book her Great Nana Beverly had given her; something about one who lets pride rule their thoughts—and danger living below the surface. 

     She looked up into Tucker’s glowing eyes and felt as if the air was being sucked from her lungs.  She tried to look away, but it was as if she was caught up in some type of vortex where she had no control.  For some reason she thought of the words—when pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. 

     Suddenly, she was able to draw much needed air into her lungs and she felt Tucker’s hand nearly throw hers away from him. 

     She looked up with confusion in time to see a flashing rage in his obsidian eyes.

     Tucker turned to Deacon.  “I need to leave.  I’ll see you soon.”

     Deacon nodded.  “Sure.  I’ll catch up with you in Paris.”

     Without a backward glance he stalked out of the house letting the door slam behind him.

     Laurel turned to Deacon.  “Did you feel that?”

     Deacon grinned at her.  “You always were quick to pick things up.”

     “What’s Theresa like?”

     His look sobered.  “Much like Tucker.  You know what they say…  Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.”

     She nodded.  “Be careful.”

     His gaze met hers.  “I will.”