Cade
Ireached inside my saddlebag and pulled out the slightly scuffed Pringles can.
A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Really? Your grand plan is to offer me stale potato chips?"
"Sour Cream and Onion. Your favorite."
She rolled her eyes, but she was watching.
I popped the lid with a snap. Instead of reaching in, I tilted the can upside down and gently slid out a small Ziploc bag wrapped in damp paper towel, secured with a rubber band. Nestled inside the foil-lined cylinder — not a single petal bruised — was a deep-crimson, long-stem rose.
Her smirk vanished.
"You carried a rose… inside a chip can?"
I thought she was talking away the tears.
She brought it to her nose, breathed it in, then looked from the bloom up to my eyes. "I love it."
And I knew I’d wait, however long it took for her to replace it with you.
"I thought it was the perfect flower for you," I said.
"Yeah? Tell me why."
"Soft petals and…”
"Thorns," she finished.
I smiled.
She held my gaze. "You've seen my thorns, Cade. But not my petals."
Fuck. If I'd gotten every assumption wrong up to this moment, I was sure I was reading that one right.
I stepped closer. She held the rose out to the side so I wouldn't crush it when I wrapped my arms around her and bent down for the kiss.
We melted into one another. I ran my hands down her back and grabbed her ass. Then I let one track back up her body to her neck. She shuddered. I kept going, over her head, and ran my fingers through her hair.
It had grown back fast. Twice the speed of Whitney's. Where Whitney's stood up like a baby bird's, Avery's was soft, springy, and light brown. Nothing like the blonde I’d met, or the photos back at their mom's.
"You're thinking," she said.
"How can you tell?"
"I know you."
"I love your hair."
"Yeah, but I can't wait to color it again."
There it was. "Ha."
"You didn't even need to ask," she said.
"I think I would have found out very soon." I reached between us and started sliding the zip down on her leathers.
"Wrong assumption," she said.
I made another one immediately. One I knew was right.
"So I missed my chance for the same top and tail."
"You did. But if you want, I can match the carpet to the drapes, 'cause I'm not shaving the top again."
"I'll take either one, either way," I said. "All I want is you."
She placed the rose on the seat of the Bonneville and brought both hands up to my head, running her fingers over the shaved side. "I'll have more than you soon."
"Maybe I should shave my balls."
"You haven't already?"
I laughed.
Time to get down to business.