Page 21 of Money Shot

The only thing I could think of that would come close to describing how I felt would be to compare it to how and what I felt on Christmas morning with my father as a little girl.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

As my heart began to race and my palms broke out in a profuse sweat, I turned toward the inside of the house and prayed I didn’t start crying.

“Come in,” I said as I walked toward the kitchen.

I assumed the flowers would need water, but in looking at the vase, they didn’t.

“I didn’t hear your motorcycle, you surprised me,” I said as I placed the vase on the counter.

“I uhhm. I drove the truck. I couldn’t figure out a way to get those on the bike,” he said.

He was dressed differently than normal, and wasn’t wearing his cut. Dressed in a black tee shirt, jeans, and boots, it seemed that he was dressed up for the occasions.

“You’re not wearing your cut,” I said.

He shrugged his shoulders. “No cuts in cages. Surprised you haven’t read that in your little MC books.”

“Well, I haven’t yet,” I said as I shifted my eyes toward the flowers.

“I can’t stay, I got to go do a quick job, but I uhhm. I have a question,” he said.

“Okay,” I said as I shifted my eyes in his direction.

“You want to get lunch next Sunday? Maybe like meet up or something?” he asked.

Holy shit.

“Sure, sounds fun,” I said.

“How about let’s meet at that place on 21st and Rock, the new steak house?” he asked.

I did my best to contain my excitement. “Sure, what time?”

“Noon?” he asked.

He was big, covered in tattoos, and I knew from the night we got gas he had the ability to be violent, but for that moment, he seemed rather innocent.

“Sure.”

“Alright. Now remember, I don’t have a phone, so don’t be late,” he said.

“I won’t, I promise,” I said.

He nodded his head, shifted his body toward the door and paused. “Alright. Well, I better get. Thanks again, for everything.”

“Any time,” I said, and then immediately wished I would have said something else.

He walked to the door, opened it, and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes fell to the floor and slowly worked their way back up to my face. “I like the pajamas. They’re cute.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I waved as he turned and walked toward his truck, just like I used to at the passing floats in the parades when I was a little girl, and then felt like a complete idiot for doing so. Hell, I didn’t know what a proper departure salute for a biker was, my books hadn’t addressed it. Maybe I should have pounded my fist to my heart and shot him the peace sign. After he got in his truck and drove away, I shut the door and ran to the kitchen.

I closed my eyes, buried my face in the flowers, and inhaled a long slow breath through my nose. As I lifted my head I opened my eyes and gazed down at the magnificent arrangement. They were perfect.

They were…

The unexpected result of the natural development of life.