Margaret handed over the bundle. “Your father used to say the same thing about your mother. Every time he came home from a long haul, first thing he’d do was bring her flowers.” Her eyes softened. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. “Thank you, Margaret.”
She patted my hand. “You be careful out there. And bring that girl of yours by the store sometime. I’d like to meet her properly.”
“I will.”
I rode the rest of the way to Bea’s apartment with the lavender tucked into my saddlebag and the evening wind cooling my face. The anxiety was still there, that low hum of worry that never quite went away, but it felt more manageable now. Quieter.
Dutch was right. The planning was done. All that was left was to trust it.
I parked the bike and climbed the stairs to Bea’s door, the lavender held carefully so it wouldn’t snap. Before I could knock, the door swung open.
“I heard your bike.” Bea stood in the doorway, barefoot and beautiful in an oversized sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes dropped to the flowers and she smiled. “You brought me flowers.”
“The English kind.”
“You remembered.”
“I always remember.” I stepped inside and handed her the bundle. “For you. No special reason. Just because.”
She lifted it to her face and breathed in deeply. “It’s perfect.” When she looked up, her eyes were bright with something that made my chest ache. “You’re perfect.”
“I’m really not.”
“You are for me.” She set the lavender on the counter and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Long day?”
“Long week.” I pulled her close, letting the tension drain out of me. “But it’s over now. The planning’s done. Everything’s ready.”
“So you can finally relax?”
I laughed. “Let’s not get crazy.”
She kissed me then. Unhurried. Like we had all the time in the world. When she pulled back, she was smiling.
“Come on. I made pasta. After dinner, we’re going to watch something stupid on TV and you’re going to stop thinking about routes and contingencies for at least two hours.”
“Two whole hours?”
“I’ll settle for one and a half.” She took my hand and led me toward the kitchen. “But you have to at least try.”
I let her pull me along. In six days, I’d ride out on the most important run of the year, and the outcome was uncertain. In six days, everything could change. But tonight, right now, in this moment—I was exactly where I wanted to be.
Hours later, long after she’d fallen asleep beside me, I lay awake in the dark, my thoughts drifting back to the night we finally became a couple.
Chapter 5
?
— Holden —
Six months ago
I left the cut at home. Stood in front of the mirror for longer than I’d like to admit — dark shirt, the good jeans, boots I’d actually cleaned — and made the call. The cut meant Road Captain. It meant the MC, the whole weight of what I was. She knew all of that. But tonight I wanted to show up as just a man taking a woman to dinner.
Dutch had clocked me on the way out. “Boots. Haircut. That’s the shirt you wear to court.” He leaned against the doorframe. Said nothing for a moment. “You’re going to be fine.”
I didn’t answer that.
