Chapter Ten
Pierce
Harley told me to send flowers, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’d have done it anyway, but hearing her say no-one had ever sent her flowers before made me even more determined to be the first.
Naturally, part of me hoped she might have advised me to kiss the woman of my dreams, or that she might even have guessed I was talking about her. If she’d done either of those things, I’d have taken her in my arms, I’d have kissed her, and asked her to be mine. Then I’d have told her that even though I want forever, I know it won’t be long enough. We need more than that.
It would be nice to have made all that happen, and to still be there, holding her close and gazing into her eyes. But thinking about it, being the first guy to send her flowers is quite important, and what I’ve got in mind is going to make it so much better. Even if there is an element of delayed gratification about it.
Why? Because there are things to be said, and although I could pick up the flowers and take them back to Harley’s office with me, I think I’d rather we spoke in private, away from prying eyes. If that means waiting a while, then so be it… because I have to get this right. Failure isn’t an option.
I push open the door to the flower shop and step inside, the sweet scent hitting me the moment I walk in.
“Hi, there.” I glance up, to be faced with a beautiful brunette, standing on the other side of the counter, although she doesn’t stay there for long. She comes out to join me, revealing a slender figure, which is partially hidden by a pale pink apron, with the store’s logo in the center. She must be new, because I know the woman who used to work here. When I say I ‘know’ her, I don’t mean that in any literal sense. She’s not from Hart’s Creek, and over the years, I don’t think we’ve done more than nod to each other on the street. But I recall her name was Stella. At least, I think it was. I know for sure she’s married to Dylan Moore… and he was born and raised here. He was a couple of years above Ben and me at school, and his dad owned the electronics store that used to be opposite here, until Mitch Bradshaw bought it and turned it into a gym. Anyway, Stella had a baby a while back, and I guess she’s decided to be a stay-at-home mom, because I haven’t seen her in here for a while… although I’m not the most regular of customers.
“Can I help?” the woman says, snagging my attention, and I nod my head.
“Can you send some flowers for me?”
She nods her head, giving me another smile. It might have had a different effect a few days ago, but now I’m immune, and I just glance around at the flowers, which are displayed down one side of the store, wishing she’d get on with it.
“What would you like?”
“Roses. Red ones.”
Her smile widens. “How many?”
“I don’t know. How many do people usually buy?”
“With red roses, it’s customary to buy them by the dozen.”
“Oh. In that case, I’ll have two dozen.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and I wonder if that’s too many… or not enough.
“Okay,” she says, going back behind the counter. “Can you give me the name and address of the recipient?”
“Sure. Her name is Harley Riggs.” She writes that down, adding Harley’s address when I give it to her.
“When would you like them delivered?” she asks, looking up at me. Her smile seems less intense now, and I don’t think that’s my imagination. I think she’s realized she’s wasting her time… which she is, of course.
“Tomorrow afternoon, as close to four as possible.” That should give me time to close up the store and get over to Harley’s place not long afterwards.
She frowns slightly, writing my instructions. “Okay,” she says. “Would you like to add a message?”
“Yes, please.”
She hands me a small card and a pen, and I take a moment, smiling to myself as I write the shortest message in the world, and then I swallow hard when she tells me how much this is all gonna cost, making me realize why she reacted the way she did when I asked for so many roses.
My credit card positively groans, but I don’t care. Harley’s worth it.
I spent yesterday evening and most of the night wondering if I’d lost my mind. My plan might have seemed like a good one when I was standing outside the flower shop, and even when I was ordering the roses, imagining the scene… seeing myself and Harley talking, hugging… kissing.
The reality is that surviving without her is so much harder than I thought.
Sure, I know I’ve survived without her for the last twenty-six years, but I didn’t realize what she meant to me then… and now I do.
She means everything.
And that means I want to be with her.
The last thing I wanted was to spend the evening by myself, staring at the TV screen, trying to remember the plot of the movie I was pretending to watch. Instead, I wanted Harley to be lying in my arms, telling me about her day, talking through our plans for the weekend, and all the things we could do together… a late brunch at the coffee shop, a walk by the creek, dinner at my place… or hers. Either would be fine.
As it was, I gave up with the movie and went to bed. Which didn’t help in the slightest.
Once there, I lay back on the pillows, wishing I could turn my head and see Harley lying beside me, a smile touching at her lips. The thought was almost too much to bear, and no matter how hard I tried, sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned all night, desperate to see her… to hold her, to kiss her, and when I got up this morning, I was relieved to be spending the day at work. The idea of too many more hours thinking about her was enough to drive me crazy.
As it is, I’ve been mercifully busy, and although I’ve thought about Harley every moment of the day, I haven’t had time to fret over missing her.
My last customer of the day is keen on one of the paintings. It’s not one I particularly like, but this guy seems to and he studies it for ages, while I check my watch every few minutes.
“Are you due to close?” he asks, looking from the painting to me.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“You close at four?”
“On Saturdays, yes.”
He nods his head, looking back at the painting again. “Are you open tomorrow?”
“No. Sorry.”
He sighs, tipping his head to one side.
“I’m leaving town on Monday morning and I really can’t decide whether to take this.”
I don’t know what to say to him. Obviously I’d like to make the sale, but I’d also like to get the hell out of here, and I just wait, studying the abstract piece in front of me.
“If you can come back next weekend, I can put it to one side for you?” I suggest, but he shakes his head.
“I’m just visiting my wife’s family,” he says. “We live in Rhode Island and only come here a couple of times a year. We won’t be back until Christmas.”
“I see. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep the painting for that long.”
“No. I wouldn’t expect you to.”
He steps back, studying it a little harder and then says, “I’ll take it.”
I don’t give him time to change his mind and move forward, removing the painting from the wall.
“Do you want me to have it shipped?” I ask, carrying it to the counter at the back of the store.
“No. I’ll take it with me, if that’s okay.”
I nod my head, wrapping the painting in brown paper before taking his credit card. He doesn’t bat an eyelid over spending several thousand dollars on one rather ugly painting, and I recall my reaction to the cost of a couple of dozen roses, wondering about the different worlds people live in, and whether he’s any happier in his than I am in mine.
Somehow I doubt it… because if things go according to plan, there won’t be a happier man in the world.
The man leaves, taking his painting with him, and I lock the door behind him, checking my watch. It’s just after four, and I quickly switch off the lights and put the cash into the safe, going through to the lobby and opening the door to my apartment. I rush up the stairs to my bedroom, where I change my jeans, putting on a white t-shirt, and my boots. Then I grab my jacket and run back down, shrugging it on before I head out.
My fingers are shaking slightly and I take a moment to attach Harley’s helmet to the clip at the back of the bike. That’s never happened before, and I give myself a few seconds, taking a deep breath and telling myself to calm down. Then I pull on my helmet and fasten it with no trouble at all. Sitting on the bike, I feel a little more at ease, although I guess I have every right to be nervous. After all, she could turn around and the throw the flowers in my face. Or she could have gone out. I shake my head, leaning over the tank slightly. Why didn’t I think of that? The flowers could be lying on the doorstep unacknowledged.
Shit …
I guess there’s only one way to find out, though, and sitting here isn’t it.
I start the engine, pulling on my gloves, and tell myself it’s gonna be fine, before I set off.
I’ve made this journey so many times, but it’s never mattered as much as it does today, and maybe it’s for that reason that everything feels different. The sun seems brighter, the trees greener, and even the road a little smoother. It’s all in my head, I know, but I take heart from the positives, and smile to myself when I turn into her driveway, spotting Harley’s car outside the garage. At least she’s here. That’s something, and I pull up alongside her Honda, letting out a sigh.
I take off my helmet, locking it to the handlebars, and remove my gloves, putting them into my pockets before I unzip my jacket and slowly climb off the bike. It’s odd, but now I’m here, I’m in no rush. I may have wanted this moment more than anything, but I also want to savor it… every step, every word, every breath.
Walking around the house to the front door, I’m relieved to see there are no flowers on the doorstep. It’s nearly four-thirty, so they must have been delivered, mustn’t they?
What if they haven’t?
Harley’s gonna wonder what the hell I’m doing here, and I’m not sure how I’ll explain myself. I guess I’ll just have to tell her the truth… and hope she understands I meant well, and that even the best-laid plans can sometimes go wrong.
My hand is shaking again, and I clench my fist a couple of times before ringing the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.
“Who is it?” she calls from inside, and I smile.
“It’s me.”
“Pierce?”
“Of course.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the door opens and she peers through the gap, frowning at me.
“I was just gonna call you,” she says.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” She opens the door wider, so I can see she’s wearing jeans and a pale gray t-shirt, her hair braided behind her head, and her eyes filled with confusion. This isn’t the most auspicious start.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I just received some flowers. They’re from you… but I don’t understand the message on the card. It just says ‘sorry’. What’s that about, Pierce? Did you send them to make me feel better after what happened the other night?”
“No. I sent them because you told me to.”
Her frown deepens. “When?” she asks.
“Yesterday… in your office,” I say, leaning against the doorframe and looking down into her eyes. “I asked your advice, and you told me to send flowers, say sorry… be romantic. This is me trying my best to do just that.”
She steps back slightly, shaking her head. “But that doesn’t make sense. I told you to send flowers, and say sorry, and be romantic with the woman of your dreams.”
“Exactly.”
I smile down at her, tipping my head slightly and after a couple of seconds, her eyes widen and her mouth drops open.
“I—Is that me?” she whispers.
“Yes.” I nod my head, reaching out to cup her face as I move across the threshold. “It’s taken me a while to work it out, but yes. Hell, yes.”
“Me?” she says, sounding incredulous.
“Yeah… you.” I move closer still, so we’re almost touching and she has to tip her head back to look at me. “I’ve dated more women than I wanna think about…”
“I know,” she says, letting out a sigh. “Don’t remind me.”
I smile, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “Sorry. But the thing is, none of them were right for me. There’s always been something missing, and I know what that something is now. It’s you.”
“Do you really mean this?” she says, her eyes boring in to mine, like she’s trying to see right through me. I’m happy to let her, but before I can reply, she continues, “It’s not a joke? It’s not just that you’ve decided I’m ‘the one’ for now… until I’m not anymore, or until someone else comes along?”
“No. It’s definitely not a joke. I’m completely serious about this, and about you. And you really are ‘the one’ for me, Harley. No-one else is ever gonna take your place.” She lets out a slight gasp, but I don’t let her say anything. Not yet. “I’ve spent most of my adult life searching for perfection, little realizing it was standing right in front of me.”
She blinks, gazing at me, and then a smile forms on her lips, starting at the corners, then filling out and spreading across her face.
“You’re sure? I mean, you’re sure I’m what you want?”
“I’m absolutely positive.”
Without any warning, she leaps up into my arms, and I catch her, twirling her around and around. How can this be? How can I be holding her and laughing, my head in a spin? Even in my wildest dreams, I never expected her to react like this, and I crush her to my chest, just to make sure it’s real.
It is. She is, and as we stop spinning, I lean back just slightly, holding on tight, and looking into her dazzling blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, Harley.”
“What for?”
“For being such an idiot.”
“You’re forgiven,” she says and I smile at her, knowing exactly what I want to do next.
“I know this is gonna sound weird, but do you wanna come out for a ride with me?”
“Now?”
I can tell I’ve surprised her, and explanations are required. “Yeah. It’s just I love being on the bike, and I love being with you, and now we’ve worked things out, I’d kinda like to put the two together.”
“I don’t have my helmet.”
“I brought it with me.”
She smiles, shaking her head. “You assumed I’d react well, did you?”
“I didn’t assume anything. In fact, I’ve been a nervous wreck since I left your office yesterday.”
“Why?” she says, frowning.
“Because, like I told you, I want forever with you, and when you find the person you wanna spend the rest of your life with, making it happen is kinda important.” I can’t believe I just said that, and judging from Harley’s expression, neither can she. I meant every word, though, and I gently kiss her forehead, just to prove it. She sighs in to me and then leans back.
“How can this be happening?” she says, echoing my thoughts. “How can you be standing here, holding me, saying all these things?”
“Because they’re true.”
She licks her lips, biting on the bottom one, and nods her head. “In that case, I’d love to come for a ride with you.”
I lower her down my body and she pulls back, reaching for her jacket, which is hanging on a hook by the door.
“Uh-uh,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s not enough. Go change your jeans and put on your boots.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’ll wait,” I say, looking right into her eyes and she holds my gaze, hopefully understanding my meaning, and that I’m not just talking about a change of clothes. Then she smiles, and thrusts her jacket at me, backing away, her eyes never leaving mine until she reaches the bottom of the stairs, where she turns and runs.
“Back in a second,” she calls over her shoulder.
“I’ll be right here.”
I take a moment to admire her ass, like I never have before. It’s perfect, just like the rest of her. Jeez… I must have been blind, and I let out a long sigh, leaning back against the doorframe again.
I’m so relieved that went as well as it did. It could have gone either way. She didn’t have to accept my flowers, or my apology, or listen to a word I said. But she did, and although I still want to kiss her for the first time, and hold her in my arms, and do all the things I dreamed of doing with her last night, I meant it just now when I said I’ll wait. I will… for as long as she needs.
And in the meantime, there’s nothing I want more than to take her out on the bike. She’s the only woman I’ve ever met who truly appreciates what it means to ride free, and I want us to share that as a couple for the very first time.
“Ready?” she says, coming down the stairs, suitably dressed now in her padded jeans, her black boots zipped up to her knees.
“You bet.”
She holds out her hand for her jacket, but I grab her, pulling her close, and she rests her hand flat on my chest, looking up at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, resting my forehead against hers.
“What for?”
“For giving me a chance. I promise, I’ll only need one.”
She smiles, then moves closer, resting her head on my chest, alongside her hand. “Good,” she murmurs in to me, and we stand for a moment or two before she pulls away and takes her jacket from me, shrugging it on. “We’d better go,” she says, grabbing her keys and putting them in her pocket.
I nod and take her hand, pulling her out of the house. She closes the door, and I lead her around the side, unlocking our helmets and handing hers over. She pulls it on, and I copy her, quickly connecting the bluetooth.
“Can you hear me?” I say, putting my phone onto its stand between the handlebars.
“Yes.” Her voice whispers in my ear and I have to smile, putting my hands on her waist and pulling her close.
“Wanna be my backpack?” I say and she chuckles, nodding her head.
“Yes, please.”
I let my helmet touch hers, just briefly, and then turn, climbing onto the bike. She gives me a moment, and then I feel her hand on my shoulder, the weight of her body as she mounts up behind me. I’m used to this, and so is she, but I want to do things differently, and I reach around behind her, pulling her closer, so her front is hard up against my back.
“Okay?” I say, and she answers me with a sigh as she puts her arms around me. I start the engine, revving it a few times, which makes her giggle in my ear, and then I say, “Hold on tight, babe,” smiling as she gasps, and I raise the kickstand and head down the driveway onto the street.