Page 75 of Storm Warning
The slightest smile returns to her lips. “Is that not what we are doing, Casanova?”
I smile at the remark and hope that the joke is an indication that she’s willing to at least listen to what I have to say. “Well, I think I’ve been doin’ the talkin’, but what’s new?” The tension melts off me at the sight of that smirk that lingers on her lips before disappearing again.
She huffs, almost like she, too, just lost about half the tension in her body, then reaches over to unlatch her seatbelt before unlocking the driver-side door. Walking away from the hood, I keep one hand on the car, unsure if she’s just going to drive off once I’m no longer in the way, but instead she scoots over toward the passenger seat. The door swings open much smoother than the creak of my truck and I get in. I’m thankful that my chances of fixing this aren’t too far gone.
Taking a seat, I groan. “I ain’t gonna beat around the bush. That girl used to date a rider that the rodeo world deemed my highest competition. His name’s Jordan Daily. He’s a fuckin’ prick, but what he did to her is far worse than anythin’ he can ever do to me.”
“Okay, so what, she wants you to replace him? Is he here? Were you trying to make him jealous?” Each question coming from her lips gradually becomes laced with more and more venom.
I extend my hand across the seat, placing it on her warm, tan thigh. “No.” Looking into her eyes, I know she can tell I’m being honest, but ‘no’isn’t enough, and I’m aware of that. “She was thankin’ me. At one of the ropin’ competitionsI was at, her boyfriend and I got into it. Let’s just say, he took it out on her. I told her she didn’t deserve that. That no one did. That if she ever needed someone to get her out of her situation, I’d help. No questions asked." I inhale slowly, before letting out my breath in a sigh. "She saw me tonight and said she left him. That Jordan wouldn’t be causin’ her problems anymore and she had convinced herself too long that it wasn’t that bad, that he’d change. I guess it took me pointin’ out that his problem was himself, not her for her to leave. That’s why she hugged me. She was just glad someone finally cared. I guess she’s been seein’ someone else now. He was grabbing her a drink while we were talkin’ and I was goin’ to introduce ya to them until I saw ya walkin’ away.."
Her expression softens, the majority of her anger withering away like smoke on the wind. It’s like the raging inferno in her is put out as soon as I ease her worry. But I don’t want to stop here, I don’t want to just excuse a situation no matter what it was. I want to show her what she means to me, and I know just the way to do it.
“Mind if I take ya somewhere?” I look back at the Halloween party, then to her, watching her nod ayesin response. Contemplation lingers in her eyes, but the consideration alone is huge for her when I know how strong-willed she can be, especially since she wanted to run me over only a few minutes ago.
She clicks her seatbelt on, and I smile. “What, don’t trust my drivin’? It’s not that far.”
“Habit, I guess.”
I consider kissing her, but decide it’s best if I give her space as I turn the car around.
She sighs. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere special.”
We ride the rest of the way silently, but I’mthankful for it because it gives me time to think. Not that it helps me come up with anything to say.
I drive her car down the familiar two-track, stopping once our destination is within walking distance. This is not how I pictured showing this to her, but now’s as good a time as any.
She aims for her handle. “Wait,” I yell out, startling her.
Swinging the door open, I climb over the top of the car, sliding my body across the roof, and landing outside her door. She laughs and it sounds like a beautiful melody. Much better than the sight of those tears from only seconds ago. I open her door, putting my arm out as a brace to pull herself out of her seat in case the wings, or heels for that matter, make exiting harder.
“Just this way,” I say as I guide her toward my little secret project.
Her eyes flare as we enter the greenhouse, and I watch her take it all in. Pinks and reds, yellows and whites, every color flower spreads throughout the space. The floral scent wraps around the room. A place filled with wonder just like her.
“What is this?” She twirls around, leaning in to smell the closest flower, then moves forward to smell another.
“Angels,” I say, not realizing it probably makes little to no sense. “This is the second most beautiful thing in my world, the first being you.” Tears well in her eyes, but she holds them back, a gentle smile turning up at the corner of her lips. This time they don’t hurt, because I know they are happy. “The entire greenhouse is filled with angel flowers. The only thing it’s been missin’ is the one I like the most.”
“When… Why…?” she huffs out incomplete question after question.
“Sawyer’s grandma used to have this place in full bloom. I guess it was somethin’ she loved to do, but it didn’t have much life in here because she’s been gone a real long time. I found it one day and decided to bring it back to life. And, well, Maalways says a sure-fire way into a woman’s heart is somethin’ as precious as the feelings ya have for them.”
Her stare locks with mine, baring two alluring windows into her heart, consistently locked tight, but now open to this, open to us.
“Nothin’ came to mind for the longest time on what that was because nothin’ could ever compare.” A small laugh escapes me. “And, well, I can’t give ya yourself.”
She smiles, but tears linger on the rim of her lashes. Maybe they aren’t bad? I hope they aren’t.
“So, anyways… Yeah, they’re all angels.” Leading her towards a fully bloomed flower with pink petals, I point at it. “This one’s a peony, but people refer to them as Angel Cheeks.” She examines the blossom and I notice it’s the same shade as her lips. Gesturing another direction, at a small patch of blue flowers, I say, “And those are Clematis or Blue Angel’s.”
I let her take them in, enjoying the opportunity to watch her admire something I created with her as my muse. Even among such heavenly company, she’s the most breathtaking of all.
Pulling her down the line of pots, I point at another batch of flowers. “These yellow ones are Angel Trumpets, and these other pink, hangy ones have some wild name, but people just call them Angel Fishin’ Rods.” The more I talk, the more her tears threaten to escape. I lead her toward the back of the greenhouse, reaching forward and touching some light pink petals of the plant that now lays before us. “Don’t even ask me the real name for these.” I chuckle, but then seriousness crosses over me. “These are Fallen Angels, they kind of remind me of whatever haunts beneath that pretty exterior of yours. Magnificent, even through whatever storm made them fall.”
She no longer holds the tears back as many dance down her cheeks. I hope she doesn’t think I just called her a fuckingmess. God, I’m not good at this shit. Looking into her gaze, I can tell that it isn’t me, it’s something more.
