Cinnamon Tee Time is sweet and clean flash fiction story.
What is flash fiction? I’m so glad you asked.
I wrote an entire article explaining flash fiction and you can read that here, but essentially it’s a story in a flash.
Flash fiction is usually somewhere between 500-1,000 words, and it generally focuses on just one moment in time.
A love confession. A meet cute. A first kiss. A realization of feelings. It depends on the story, but it’s a story that can be read in less than ten minutes!
I really like flash fiction because it’s great writing practice for me as a writer. And as a reader it’s a short and sweet romantic treat that I can enjoy in one sitting while I finish my morning coffee!
I wrote this story because I love the single dad and the nanny trope. In my head, Jonas & Claire have been falling for one another for a long time. All while sharing their days over cups of cinnamon tea.
When I thought about how to write their story, I thought it would be fun to write their story as a love confession. So we get to see the culmination of what I think is a slow burn, sweet romance that kind of sneaked up on them.
Without further ado, please enjoy my flash fiction debut: Cinnamon Tee Time.
Cinnamon Tee Time
Single dad & golf pro Jonas Stone looks forward to his nightly tea time with his daughter’s nanny.
But will he confess his feelings before it’s too late?
Cinnamon Tee Time
The hum of the garage draws my attention from my book. I stand from my cozy spot on the couch and pace before finally landing in front of the hallway mirror for a quick pep talk, “You can do this.” I point at myself in the mirror, “You are strong, you are brave, do not let the scent of cinnamon—”
The door opens and in walks Jonas Stone, looking like he walked off the cover of Golf Pro magazine in his freshly-pressed golf shorts and my favorite light blue polo shirt that makes his eyes pop. He’s devastatingly handsome, and if you read the tabloids all of his female fans agree.
But I’m the woman he comes home to.
Well, kind of.
If by ‘woman’ you mean nanny to his daughter and by ‘come home to’ you mean I live in the basement apartment of his sprawling mansion. Then, sure. I’m the woman he comes home to.
“Did you say cinnamon?” He sniffs the air, “I hope you and Rosie made cinnamon cookies today.” He drops his bag of golf clubs in the entryway and turns back to me, “I could use a sugar fix.”
“How about cinnamon tea instead?” I ask.
“Rosie ate all of the cookies again, didn’t she?”
“I’ve been sworn to secrecy.” I motion zipping my lips and Jonas chuckles.
“Let me take that.” I reach for the empty coffee mug in his hand at the same time he takes a step toward me, we collide and I lose my balance, tipping over his bag of golf clubs, which clatters to the floor with a loud bang. Jonas wraps one strong arm around my waist, holding me upright, and we both freeze and wait for the pitter patter of little feet above us.
“What are the odds Rosie sleeps through that?” He whispers, his warm breath tickling my cheeks.
“I don’t know. But if she wakes up, you’re singing the princess song. I already sang it seven times before bed.”
He laughs out loud, his chest rumbling against my hands. We stand there for a moment, gazes locked on each other, and time slows. I wish I could stay in his arms all night, instead I push away and walk toward the kitchen, immediately missing his warmth. Technically, making tea for him isn’t part of my job description as the nanny to his four-year-old daughter, Rosie, but I look forward to our nightly chats over tea. Probably more than I should.
“How was the tournament?” I ask.
“Good.” Jonas says, lowering himself onto a stool at the kitchen island. “It was good.”
“Say it again and you’ll almost have me convinced.”
Jonas sighs and shakes his head, “I don’t know, Claire, maybe I’m getting too old for this.”
“Isn’t golf an old man’s sport?”
“You think an old man could do what I do?” He flexes his bicep at me with a teasing glint in his eye.
“My grandpa does it every Saturday.” I say and slide a cup of tea in front of him.
Jonas laughs, “Okay, not too old, but maybe…” he trails off and scrubs his hands over his face, “maybe I’m ready to leave the pro circuit. Spend more time here.” His gaze lingers on me. The moment lengthens and the air between us electrifies. Visions of a future with Jonas and Rosie flash in my mind, like a comfort movie of a life I see only in my dreams. But the movie stops and I remember that I’m just the nanny. Even if I see a future for us, I’m not confident Jonas does.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” I say, breaking our moment. I suck in a deep breath and summon the strength from my earlier pep talk, “I’m putting in my notice.”
“Notice for what?” Jonas furrows his brow.
“My job as Rosie’s nanny. I’m quitting.”
“What?” Jonas stands and begins pacing.
“I want to make the transition easy for Roise—”
“Is it the tournament schedule? Because I can try—”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Rosie then? I know she can be a lot sometimes. Maybe I can hire a part-time sitter to give you a break.”
“No, I love Rosie. You know that.”
Jonas stops pacing and the full weight of his gaze is almost more than I can bear.
“What then? This doesn’t make any sense. I thought you were happy here.”
“I was. I am.” My heart breaks in two and I swallow back the words I want to say – the confession that is bubbling up inside my chest – and instead settle on, “It’s just time to move on.”
Jonas crosses the room in three quick strides and stops in front of me. He’s so close I can see the small, navy flecks in his sky-blue eyes. His spicy, cinnamon scent wraps around me, weakening my resolve.
“Claire, please don’t go.”
“I’m sorry.” I force myself to hold his gaze. “But I promise I won’t leave until you’ve found a suitable replacement.”
A wolfish grin spreads across his face, “Well then, you’re never leaving.”
My heart pounds so loudly in my chest I’m sure he can hear it.
“Wh– what?”
“There is no replacement for you, Claire.” He cups my cheek, “You’re irreplaceable.”
Jonas bends his head and brushes a gentle kiss against my lips. Before he can pull away I wrap my arms around his neck, it’s all the invitation he needs to pull me into his arms and kiss me like he’s been dreaming of this too.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, “I’m sorry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me this entire time.”
I smile, “I guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“I think I can manage that.” He grins and kisses me again.
Thanks for reading!
Thank you for reading Cinnamon Tee Time! To read more sweet & clean flash fiction, click here.