Flash fiction time and this month’s song is by Ellie Goulding… HOW LONG WILL I LOVE YOU. It’s quite a lovely one, though I still say it has sad musical undertones for a love song. But, a nice deviation from some of the others we’ve had and will have. Though there’s nothing wrong with gritty when they pop up:)

Anyway, here is the video if you’re not familiar with the song (I hadn’t heard it before, though I quite like her other popular songs that I know) and the resulting fiction. And FYI… I couldn’t think of anything else to write, sigh. These seem to get harder and harder.

“All right folks, time to slow it down for all those lovebirds out there.”

Amanda Jones groaned, walking quickly towards a set of French doors as the lilting tones echoed through the room. People paired off, easy laughter and the haunting melody following her onto the terrace overlooking the lake. The moon had risen above the distant horizon, glinting off the water like dancing fireflies.

She stared at the shoreline, watching the waves lap against the rocky shore. The music drowned out the sound of the water, but the rhythmic motion seemed to match the rise and fall of the song, as if the ripples were following along.

She inhaled, drinking in the sweet scent of roses with a hint of summer rain, though there were only a few clouds starting to build in the sky. Her chest tightened as the song faded, another slow one breaking up the momentary void. Why she’d agreed to come to the wedding was still a mystery.

She sighed. Family. The greatest blessing and worst curse. She’d come back to watch her little sister get married, despite the fact she’d sworn she’d never return. Never be a pawn for her stepmother’s agenda. But then Trixie had called and Amanda had jumped on a train…returned to the one place she’d thought she’d finally escaped from.

“Thought I’d find you hiding out here.”

The low gravelly voice made her jump and she spun, staring at deep brown eyes as the edges crinkled with laughter. An easy smile lifted his lips as he moved towards her, stopping an arm’s length away.

He glanced over her shoulder, nodding at the lake. “I’ll say this much…scenery here never gets old.”

She stared up at him, trying to make her tongue form his name, but all that came out was a raspy breath. Somehow, she’d managed to avoid him all day, only to let all her guard down over some sappy love song. One that reminded her far too much of him. Of them.

He chuckled. “Tongue-tied, sweetheart? That I wasn’t expecting.”

A surge of anger bled through her surprise. She crossed her arms on her chest, tapping her foot  on the stone. “Brogan Keller. I’m not hiding. I’m enjoying the view. And I thought you’d finally left small town life behind you?”

“And I thought Hell had to freeze over before you came back here?”

“I hear there’s an early frost this year.” She backed up, leaning against the railing. “Besides, I never could say no to Trixie. But don’t worry, I’ll be gone the moment she gets into that limousine.”

“So, it’s back to running.”

“Call it whatever you want. I think of it as keeping my sanity.” She glanced at the open doors, watching the dancers glide around the floor. “I don’t belong here. Never did.”

Brogan released a weary breath, spinning to lean against the rail beside her. “You have just as much right to be here. Your father—”

“Is dead. And any ties I had to this place died with him. My stepmother and her new boy toy haven’t so much as said hello to me since I arrived this morning. If it weren’t for Trixie…”

Amanda turned away. God, what was it about this place, about him, that made her emotions so hard to keep in check? Made her usual defences slip away? Hell, she was a US Marshal. Surely, she could handle being around people she despised for twenty four hours.

Brogan nudged her. “Why come, then, when you knew it’d be like this? Trixie would have understood. Hell, all you had to do was lie. Tell her you had a case—”

“She’s my sister. And don’t start in with the whole half sister bullshit. She’s the only good thing that ever came out of my father marrying that monster. And I wasn’t about to abandon her on the one day she needed someone in her corner. Did you know her mother tried to break them up? Claimed her fiancé had a record…was only interested in Trixie’s money.”

Brogan snorted. “Why do I have the feeling you used your connections to prove your stepmother wrong?”

“Because I did. Turns out Ryan’s big dark secret was that he got arrested once during an anti-terrorism protest. Spent a few hours in custody before being released. And the man has more than enough of his own money.” Amanda huffed. “My stepmother just couldn’t stand the thought of losing control over Trixie. Of losing access to her funds.”

Brogan merely nodded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You look good.”

She glanced at him. “You don’t have to make small talk, Brog. Or pretend you want to be around me. We both know the truth.”

He clenched his jaw, a hint of blush staining his cheeks. “The truth? Which truth is that, Amanda, because as far as I’m concerned, I gave you exactly what you wanted—space. Freedom.”

“Is that what you call it? I seem to recall me asking you to move out to New Mexico with me. You’re the one who turned me down.”

His eyes narrowed as he spun to face her, all semblance of composure gone. “What the hell are you talking about? I showed up at the train station. In fact, I fucking sat there all day. You never showed up. But I got the letter you left me—and your message.”

Amanda took a step back only to have him snag her arms.

He tugged her against him, lowering his face until it hovered an inch from hers. “After everything we shared, the battles we fought to be together, I think I deserved more than a fucking note and a one-way ticket to California.”


He released her, pacing away before spinning. “It’s been two years. The least you can do is finally tell me why. I deserve that.” He took a single step towards her. “Who was it?”

Amanda shook her head, trying to grasp onto anything he was saying. “What the hell are you talking about? There was never anyone else. And what letter? We were supposed to meet at the bus station.”

“We agreed on the train station.”

“Until you changed the location that morning. I got your text. Went to the damn bus depot instead, only Jacob was there. He told me you’d sent him to let me down easy. Said you weren’t willing to give up your trust fund just so I could go on some vision quest to find my father’s killer. Become something I wasn’t. I called you, from the terminal—you never answered.”

Brogan took another step. “This isn’t funny, Amanda. All I want is an answer, not some elaborate lie to make you feel better about fucking me over.”

“You were the one who fucked me over, baby. So if you’re looking for something, I suggest you go back inside and find it with someone who runs in your financial circle.”

She spun on her heels, taking the stone steps off to her right. After burying her feelings for two years, just being around Brogan was enough to make the damn air feel heavy, pushing on her lungs until simply breathing was a near impossible feat. She ran across the grass, not stopping until she reached the shoreline. The steady wash of the water against the rocks matched the frantic beating of her heart, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to calm down. She never should have come. Never should have reopened old wounds.

A hand locked around her shoulder, pulling her back then spinning her around. Her balance shifted and she tumbled backwards, before Brogan grabbed her, pulling her against his chest. Her hands connected with hard muscle, the heady scent of his cologne surrounding her. She tried not to breathe it in, but it seemed to seep through her skin until she could taste it. Taste him.

“Shit.” Brogan’s chin brushed across her head.

“Let go.”

“Are you trying to kill yourself? You want me to go to jail, now, for harming a federal officer?”

“What I want is for you to leave me the hell alone.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He eased back. “Tell me why you’re still lying to me.”

“What lie? I’ve never lied to to you, Brogan.”

“I didn’t send you a text. Never sent Jacob to meet you.”

“Then why…” She let the words die on her tongue as she gazed up at the house. Pieces started falling together, the raw clarity of them making her stomach heave in protest. “Oh my god.”

Brogan frowned. “You didn’t write that letter, did you? I tried calling, as well. You never picked up.”

“That’s because I never got any calls.” She drew in a few shaky breaths. “She switched phones. She actually switched phones. Got Jacob to text me from yours, and… Oh my god.”

“But why? She wanted you gone, why—”

“To punish me. I’m the reason my father died. He was out that night looking for me. If I hadn’t snuck out to see you…”

Brogan drew her in close, this time holding her gently in his arms. “It wasn’t your fault. You have to know that by now.”

“She blames me. She’ll always blame me. When my father died, she lost control of the majority of his money. It went to us, not her. And that was a far worse fate than living a lie as his wife.”

He sighed, using one hand to lift her chin. “So, you were going to meet me that day?”

“Of course I was going to meet you. God, Brogan…you were the one. You’re still the one. I never—”

He cut her off as his lips claimed hers, the intensity of the kiss pulling her under. She gave him control, relying on him to hold her up as the world collapsed into them, and the firm brush of skin on skin. She inhaled roughly when he finally released her, his forehead resting on hers.

She exhaled a ragged breath. “But—surely you’re with someone. After all this time…”

He chuckled. “I tried, but…couldn’t seem to get this feisty federal marshal out of my head. Though, I do have a cat. Your turn.”

“I just told you, you’re still the one. Do you really think I’d say that if I were with anyone? So no. No one.”

“Well, this certainly changes the nature of this meeting. Sounds like we have some talking to do.”

She grinned. “Talking? I’m standing here saying I never stopped loving you and you want to talk?”

His eyes darkened as he dipped down and picked her up. “By talking I mean I want to hear you scream my name. That’s if you’re willing to leave with me.”

“I packed my gun, so…I’ll risk it. On one condition.”

He arched his brow in question.

“You give me one slow dance before we leave…and never come back.”


And that’s it for me. Please check out the other ladies…

Bronwyn Green  |  Jessica De La Rosa


  1. Wait – did you actually write a short story that’s *not* going to turn into something longer?! 😀

    Also, I love the idea of an heiress named Trixie. That delights me for some reason. 😀

  2. I was reading along and then when I got to the point where you mention she is a U.S. Marshal my first thought was “NORRIS AND COPS!”

    I love how you always incorporate some type of cops, investigative, detective, type thing in your stories.

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