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“Hi, Charles,” I reply. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“I thought you’d want to know. The man you tickled…” He means shot, but he doesn’t want to say it over the phone. “He’s turned on his buddies. Apparently, he got so terrified in those woods that he wants nothing to do with the gang ever again. The cops have found three more dog storage sites.”
“Good,” I say fiercely, even if part of me still wishes I’d hit him between the eyes with a fatal shot. It’s the itch that will never go away, the call to battle, to war, anything to protect my woman. “I’m glad some good came out of this. How’s the new ride treating you?”
“It’s smooth as a dream, but I think you went a bit overboard. This car’s worth at least three, hell, four times more than my last one.”
“You earned it,” I tell him.
Without Charles, the gunman would’ve aimed for my woman first. Maybe she wouldn’t have run from the car when the panic set in. They told me what happened. He was the one who yelled at her to get moving.
“Good day ahead of you?” Charles asks.
“Yeah, I hope so,” I reply. “I’m going to propose to Samantha.”
“That’s excellent news,” Charles says.
“You don’t think…” I trail off. Charles and I are on friendly terms and going through something so intense bonds people, but it’s not like we’re friends.
“What is it, Fletcher?” he asks.
“It’s just… you said before she reminds you of your daughter. You and I are about the same age.”
“So what?” Charles snaps. “I see the way Samantha looks at you. I see the love there. Hell, if my daughter were still here and had a man like you, I’d give you my blessing. I mean that.”
I swallow, feeling touched. “Thank you, Charles. Really.”
* * *
“Why are wehere?” my woman says from the passenger seat, looking across from my car to the restaurant where she and James had their first date.
I take her hand, looking down at her. She’s wearing her school clothes since I didn’t want to give her any warning about the proposal. Goddamn, my heart is almost beating out of my chest, with more fierceness than it did even in the woods when the bullets were flying.
Holding her hand tighter, I smile. Across the street, a car backfires, and it’s a miracle. I laugh. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t freak. With Samantha sleeping in my bed since James told us the truth, my sleep has been much more peaceful.
“It’s where it all started,” I tell her. “Our crazy, crazy relationship.”
She smiles, a few strands of loose brown hair framing her angelic face. She’s got that playful light in her eyes that pushes me close to the edge every time, making me want to turn savage. “I still love it when you call it arelationship.”
How about a marriage?I almost ask, but that would mean giving the game away.
“Come on.” I squeeze her hand. “Before I lose my nerve.”
“You?Lose your nerve? I don’t believe it.”
She would if she could feel these sensations buzzing around my body. Leaving the car, I hold her hand, leading her to the restaurant. When I take out a key and unlock the door, she says, “It’s closed? You have a key?”
“Nothing slips past you,” I say jokingly.
She nudges me playfully. “You can’t blame me for being surpr…”
Her voice trails off with an awed quality when she walks into the restaurant. Her mouth is wide open as she stares around at the rose-petal-covered floor, at her paintings on the walls, some reprinted on canvases, others in gold and silver frames.
Walking up behind her, I wrap my arms around her body, feeling her warmth, her curviness. When my manhood begins to stiffen, I remind myself that this is about love, not lust, at least for now.
“Look how talented you are,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. “My perfect painter. My perfect girlfriend, and hopefully, my perfect wife.”
I take a step back, reaching into my pocket. She turns with glistening eyes, tears threatening to slide down her cheeks.
