Page 85 of Forked (Frenched 2)
“Hmm. How about forever?”
He touched his forehead to mine. “Forever.”
“Close your eyes.” Nick’s voice was soft, and his breath tickled my ear.
“Why?”
“I’m going to blindfold you.”
“In my parents’ driveway? In a convertible?”
“We’ll start with that. Maybe later I’ll do it somewhere else—if you behave.”
I laughed. “I thought you were taking me out for ice cream.”
“I’ll still buy you an ice cream cone if you want one. But first I want to give you a birthday present.”
“Now?” We’d only been back from France for about ten days, and my birthday wasn’t for another month.
“I know it’s early, but I saw this thing that I knew you had to have, and I just can’t wait to give it to you.”
“No complaints here. I love surprises.” I clapped my hands. “What is it?”
He reached into the back seat and handed me a small black bag that said Shinola. “Look inside,” he told me.
I peeked inside the bag and pulled out a photograph of two Shinola bikes side by side, and a tiny box. I opened the box and took out a tiny little key. “What’s this?”
“The key to the lock for your new bike.”
“Really?” I grinned at him before studying the
picture again. “How fun! And is that your bike next to mine?”
“Yes. Want to go pick them up?”
“Yes!” I glanced into the back seat. “But how are we going to get them home?”
“Leave it to me.” He wrapped a soft scarf around my eyes and tied it at the back of my head. “Can you see?”
“Nope.”
“Good.”
He started the car and backed out of the driveway, and I imagined the stares he got driving around town with a blindfolded woman in the front seat of his ’54 Mercury. And where the hell was he taking me? Were our bikes at the Shinola store? Wasn’t that downtown somewhere? Why would he have to blindfold me for that?
I tried to figure out where we were headed by the number and direction of turns we took, but pretty soon I realized he was taking so many turns, he was trying to get me lost on purpose.
“What the hell?” I said, grabbing onto the dash. “You’re making me carsick here.”
He laughed. “Sorry, but you’re too smart, cupcake. And this has to be a surprise. We’re almost there.”
In another five minutes, he slowed to a stop and turned off the engine. “You asked how we’d get our new bikes home,” he said, “but they’re already home.” He untied the scarf and I pulled it off, anxious to see where in the world we’d ended up.
My jaw dropped, and I sucked in my breath before clapping a hand over my mouth.
We were in the driveway of the house on Iroquois. Every hair on my body stood on end.
“Nick, what is this?” My eyes roved over all the details I loved about the home, finally landing on the SOLD sign on the front lawn. “This house is sold.”
