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“Amber-Rose?”
“Yeah. Um… I’d love that.”
“I’m sorry I can’t pick you up, but my driver will. His name is Pedro, and he’s the nicest guy in California, apart from Wyatt. And me.”
I bite my lip, feeling soft tickles in my chest.
“By the way, Wyatt was disappointed that he couldn’t fly you this time, but the weather isn’t looking good for flying.”
“Tell him next time. And I’m looking forward to meeting Pedro.”
“And me, right?”
I can see Rob’s beguiling and soulfully needy eyes begging me to say yes. “Of course.”
The butterflies in my stomach return, and all of them are rushing to reach new heights—aiming straight at my heart. Should I let them in? I will answer that question later. For now, one thing is sure—I will wear my silver tank top, and it won’t go back into the closet this time.
10
ROB
When Pedro calls to say they’re close, I make my way out of the house. I want Amber-Rose to see me even before she steps out of the car, to show that she’s my VIP.
But after barely waiting a few minutes, I feel like a lone tree on a prairie—protruding too prominently. I’ve wined and dined dozens of women before, whether I had romantic agendas or not. But with Amber-Rose, I feel like I’ve lost my useful instincts as a man. I don’t want to come on too strong, yet I want to give her a sign. This is why I’d said no to Clay when he offered to babysit Matty.
I call inside to my little brother.
Matty comes out with a confused look. “What is it?”
“Would you wait with me here?”
“You said I should wait inside,” Matty retorts. I know he’s annoyed with my out-of-character indecisiveness tonight.
“Please?”
“Okay.” Matty stands right in front of me, leaning on my leg from time to time.
“She’s almost here.”
In fact, there she is.
My lips instantly stretch from ear to ear as I observe Amber-Rose emerging from the car. When I glance at Matty, he cracks a grin directed straight at me, telling me he’s watching.
“What?” I glimpse at him.
“She looks nice.”
Her presence has clearly erased my brother’s dicey mood. The Amber effect definitely works on the boy, too.
In a simple sleeveless silver top and white pants, she’s the epitome of the girl next door—but she’s Amber The Mender, a force that can calm a hurricane, a lifeboat capable of tugging an ocean liner, and most of all, my hero.
It’s a warm night for September, but the wind is picking up. Between trying to control her fluttering top, holding her fringe, and wrangling her handbag, Amber-Rose is running out of hands. But her smile shoots me in the eye, down to my throat, and then settles in my chest. When I’m within grasping distance of her, happy beats spring up inside my ribcage.
“Amber-Rose,” I greet her.
“How are you, Rob?”
I respond with a hug, one that maybe goes on a little bit too long. After weeks of having her dominate my thoughts, the need to feel her has become urgent. My arms know, and they ache angrily when I release her. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
