Combative
Page 17
She freezes immediately, her hands at her sides. Then she inhales, her eyes closed and her smile getting wider with each passing second.
I stare in fascination.
It’s as if she’s just gained the sense of smell and is appreciating it for the first time. She inhales twice more before finally opening her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
And, somehow, I find myself smiling with her.
“What can I help you with?” the older woman behind the counter asks.
I take Madison’s hand and lead her there, pulling out my credit card at the same time. “I need to get a dozen white lilies delivered, please.”
The woman smiles at Madison first and then at me. “This is the third time you’ve been in here. I remember your order.”
Not in the mood for small talk, I hand over my card and give the old lady the delivery details.
“This isn’t for her?” the woman asks, nodding her head at Madison. I look down at her nametag; Debbie. Of course.
“No, ma’am.”
Madison releases my hand and starts to walk around the store while Debbie gets the order ready. I use the time that Madison’s distracted to purchase something extra.
Something small.
MADISON
“Give my your keys,” Ky says as we enter our building.
I stop and turn to him. “What?”
He has his hand out, palm up, and motions toward it.
I hesitate for a second before reaching into my bag and finding the keys. His eyes light up, matching the goofy grin on his handsome face. “Turn around,” he says.
“What?”
“Turn around,” he repeats, louder and firmer.
I do as he asks.
His footsteps move farther away, right before I hear the lock turning in my mailbox. He comes back a moment later and drops the keys in my bag, then grabs my hand. “Let’s go!”
I look longingly at my mailbox while he drags me to the elevator. “But—”
He cuts me off. “It’s the element of surprise, remember?”
I dig my heels in the floor and grasp his hand tighter. Looking into his eyes, I suppress my smile when I tell him, “I can’t wait.” Slowly, I back away from him and move closer to the mailboxes.
He sighs and shakes his head, but he’s smiling as his eyes fixate on me, watching me. I wonder if he can see my excitement—because I’m sure having a hard time containing it.
My finger shake when I place the key in the lock, the anticipation bursting out of me. I stop to take a breath, trying to calm myself. Trying to savor this moment.
Ky comes up behind me and places his hands on my waist, the warmth of it causing my heart to race. He dips his mouth close to my ear. “Go head.”
I don’t hesitate this time. I open the box, reach in, and pull out the single short-stemmed yellow rose. My breath catches on a gasp. Too many emotions hit me at once. I push them all back and take a moment to gather my thoughts. Then I lift the rose to my nose, and inhale deeply. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t care. I turn to him, a million voices in my head wanting to tell him everything. Instead, I just lower the rose and let him see me. “Thank you, Ky.”
He nods in response. “Yellow roses—they’re the flower of friendship.”
10
KY Tapping her pen on her notepad, Doctor Aroma eyes me curiously. “I’d love to play this little guessing game but I have a feeling it’ll be easier if you just tell me what it is that has you a little more relaxed and smiling today.”
“I’m not smiling,” I say defensively.
“Well,” she says, “you’re not exactly pissed at the world like you were last time.”
I roll my eyes. “Do all girls like flowers?”
She sets her pen and notepad on the seat next to her. “What’s her name?”
“Madison.”
“And you want to give her flowers?”
I shrug.
She laughs a little. “Most girls do. Tell me about her?”
“She’s...different, I guess.”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her, the uncertainty in my voice evident. “She’s kind of hot as fuck but she doesn’t know it. Makes her hotter, you know?”
Smiling, she asks, “Has Jax met her?”
“Who?” I tease.
Her face falls, and she clears her throat—squirming in her seat as she attempts to rein in a level of professionalism. “I mean Detective Davis.”
I raise an eyebrow at her slip up. “How well do you know Jax?”
“Time’s up.”
***
There’s a knock on my door. It’s quiet. Timid, almost. Which only means one thing, and that one thing has me grinning like an idiot.
Madison stands on the other side with a pizza in her hands. “Your place or mine?”
I open the door wider for her. We’d only been apart for a couple of hours and I was already looking forward to seeing her again. Taking the pizza box from her, I set it on the coffee table and link both her hands in mine.
We stare at each other, trying to contain our matching smiles.
“You miss me, huh?” I ask.
“I was hungry.”
Laughing, I lead her to the couch, pulling her down with me and scooting her ass as close as possible.
“Can I ask you something?” she says.
“Sure.”
“The flowers—”
My instant smirk cuts her off.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You want to know who they were for?” I can’t wipe the smug smile off my face. “Are you jealous?”
“No!” she all but shouts.
“My mom,” I tell her. “Well, my foster mom. Kind of.”
“What?”
“That’s what you want to ask, right?”
She nods.
“They’re for her,” I admit. “I’ve been sending her flowers once a month since her husband passed away five years ago.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You call her your mom?”
I shrug. “She’s the closest thing I have to the real thing.”
“That’s sweet,” she says, but doesn’t ask anything else.
I take one of her hands and trace lazy circles on her palm. “So Jeff...he used to come home with them once a month on the date of their anniversary. White lilies were their wedding flower. Today’s their monthly wedding anniversary.” I smile to myself, lost in my thoughts—in my memories of them. “It was kind of beautiful—the way they were. I’d never really witnessed what love was until they took me in.”
“That is beautiful,” she whispers. “And I’m sorry about Jeff but...” she trails off.
“But what?”
“Nothing. I’m just nosy.”
“No. What were you going to say?”
She straightens up as if preparing for battle. “It’s just that I saw a sign at the shop and it said local delivery only...so she’s local, right? Why not just give them to her?”
I release an anxious breath, trying to find the right words. “I haven’t spoken to her since I was eighteen. I doubt she even knows they’re from me.”
I stare in fascination.
It’s as if she’s just gained the sense of smell and is appreciating it for the first time. She inhales twice more before finally opening her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
And, somehow, I find myself smiling with her.
“What can I help you with?” the older woman behind the counter asks.
I take Madison’s hand and lead her there, pulling out my credit card at the same time. “I need to get a dozen white lilies delivered, please.”
The woman smiles at Madison first and then at me. “This is the third time you’ve been in here. I remember your order.”
Not in the mood for small talk, I hand over my card and give the old lady the delivery details.
“This isn’t for her?” the woman asks, nodding her head at Madison. I look down at her nametag; Debbie. Of course.
“No, ma’am.”
Madison releases my hand and starts to walk around the store while Debbie gets the order ready. I use the time that Madison’s distracted to purchase something extra.
Something small.
MADISON
“Give my your keys,” Ky says as we enter our building.
I stop and turn to him. “What?”
He has his hand out, palm up, and motions toward it.
I hesitate for a second before reaching into my bag and finding the keys. His eyes light up, matching the goofy grin on his handsome face. “Turn around,” he says.
“What?”
“Turn around,” he repeats, louder and firmer.
I do as he asks.
His footsteps move farther away, right before I hear the lock turning in my mailbox. He comes back a moment later and drops the keys in my bag, then grabs my hand. “Let’s go!”
I look longingly at my mailbox while he drags me to the elevator. “But—”
He cuts me off. “It’s the element of surprise, remember?”
I dig my heels in the floor and grasp his hand tighter. Looking into his eyes, I suppress my smile when I tell him, “I can’t wait.” Slowly, I back away from him and move closer to the mailboxes.
He sighs and shakes his head, but he’s smiling as his eyes fixate on me, watching me. I wonder if he can see my excitement—because I’m sure having a hard time containing it.
My finger shake when I place the key in the lock, the anticipation bursting out of me. I stop to take a breath, trying to calm myself. Trying to savor this moment.
Ky comes up behind me and places his hands on my waist, the warmth of it causing my heart to race. He dips his mouth close to my ear. “Go head.”
I don’t hesitate this time. I open the box, reach in, and pull out the single short-stemmed yellow rose. My breath catches on a gasp. Too many emotions hit me at once. I push them all back and take a moment to gather my thoughts. Then I lift the rose to my nose, and inhale deeply. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t care. I turn to him, a million voices in my head wanting to tell him everything. Instead, I just lower the rose and let him see me. “Thank you, Ky.”
He nods in response. “Yellow roses—they’re the flower of friendship.”
10
KY Tapping her pen on her notepad, Doctor Aroma eyes me curiously. “I’d love to play this little guessing game but I have a feeling it’ll be easier if you just tell me what it is that has you a little more relaxed and smiling today.”
“I’m not smiling,” I say defensively.
“Well,” she says, “you’re not exactly pissed at the world like you were last time.”
I roll my eyes. “Do all girls like flowers?”
She sets her pen and notepad on the seat next to her. “What’s her name?”
“Madison.”
“And you want to give her flowers?”
I shrug.
She laughs a little. “Most girls do. Tell me about her?”
“She’s...different, I guess.”
“How?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her, the uncertainty in my voice evident. “She’s kind of hot as fuck but she doesn’t know it. Makes her hotter, you know?”
Smiling, she asks, “Has Jax met her?”
“Who?” I tease.
Her face falls, and she clears her throat—squirming in her seat as she attempts to rein in a level of professionalism. “I mean Detective Davis.”
I raise an eyebrow at her slip up. “How well do you know Jax?”
“Time’s up.”
***
There’s a knock on my door. It’s quiet. Timid, almost. Which only means one thing, and that one thing has me grinning like an idiot.
Madison stands on the other side with a pizza in her hands. “Your place or mine?”
I open the door wider for her. We’d only been apart for a couple of hours and I was already looking forward to seeing her again. Taking the pizza box from her, I set it on the coffee table and link both her hands in mine.
We stare at each other, trying to contain our matching smiles.
“You miss me, huh?” I ask.
“I was hungry.”
Laughing, I lead her to the couch, pulling her down with me and scooting her ass as close as possible.
“Can I ask you something?” she says.
“Sure.”
“The flowers—”
My instant smirk cuts her off.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You want to know who they were for?” I can’t wipe the smug smile off my face. “Are you jealous?”
“No!” she all but shouts.
“My mom,” I tell her. “Well, my foster mom. Kind of.”
“What?”
“That’s what you want to ask, right?”
She nods.
“They’re for her,” I admit. “I’ve been sending her flowers once a month since her husband passed away five years ago.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You call her your mom?”
I shrug. “She’s the closest thing I have to the real thing.”
“That’s sweet,” she says, but doesn’t ask anything else.
I take one of her hands and trace lazy circles on her palm. “So Jeff...he used to come home with them once a month on the date of their anniversary. White lilies were their wedding flower. Today’s their monthly wedding anniversary.” I smile to myself, lost in my thoughts—in my memories of them. “It was kind of beautiful—the way they were. I’d never really witnessed what love was until they took me in.”
“That is beautiful,” she whispers. “And I’m sorry about Jeff but...” she trails off.
“But what?”
“Nothing. I’m just nosy.”
“No. What were you going to say?”
She straightens up as if preparing for battle. “It’s just that I saw a sign at the shop and it said local delivery only...so she’s local, right? Why not just give them to her?”
I release an anxious breath, trying to find the right words. “I haven’t spoken to her since I was eighteen. I doubt she even knows they’re from me.”
