“Holy shit,” Keely mumbles. Walking past me she whispers, “Marry him or I will.”
I laugh at her but keep looking at my date. “You look nice too.”
Holding out his hand I see he’s holding daisies. I think daisies are quite possibly the most romantic flowerever. Those are the ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ flowers. “Oh, Keeton. I love daisies. Thank you.” I take them from him, letting my fingers brush against his. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the chills I get whenever we touch.
Keely’s back, taking the flowers from me. “I’ll put them in some water for you, sis.”
“I didn’t want to give you roses again.” He smiles sweetly.
“Again? You already gave her roses?” Keely says from the kitchen sink. “Geez, you’ve known each other three days.”
He shrugs. “She deserves flowers.”
Keely steps up to him holding a vase full of daisies. She works fast. Patting him on his leather-clad shoulder, she says, “That she does, my good man. That she does.”
“Shall we?” Keeton’s hand is reaching toward me. I place mine in his and move with him out the front door.
I snatch my jean jacket off the chair as we make our way out the door. Keeton stops to help me put it on. “We’ll need to get you a leather jacket.”
“Why?”
“It looks cool.” He chuckles. “I saw one for you today but didn’t buy it because I learned a long time ago, from my sister, that you ladies need to pick things out yourselves.”
“Right.” Thank goodness he didn’t buy me a jacket. How humiliating would have have been if it was too small? Super humiliating. It happened repeatedly at Christmas time. Lewis would buy me some kind of dress or sweater that was two sizes too small. Then, he’d say. ‘It’s probably too small, but that’s just a good goal for you. Right?’
I always nodded because we were usually in front of either his family or mine. See? Humiliating. Side note: none of those things ever fit, goal or no goal. I returned most of them without Lewis knowing and bought things I liked. So, Keeton’s right. Smart man.
Before shutting the door all the way, Keely’s got the last word. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Then, she cackles.
“She’s funny,” Keeton says smirking.
“Oh, yeah, she’s hysterical.” I laugh. “She’s the baby and the most outspoken and most determined one of the bunch. She’s also the smallest.”
“You’re the prettiest,” he says kissing my hand.
“How do you know? You’ve only met Keely.”
He shrugs. “I just do. Don’t question me, woman.”
I roll my eyes and follow him down he steps to his bike. But, it’s not the one from earlier. This one is bigger, a lot bigger, and a mat black color. “How many motorcycles do you own?”
He looks up, thinking. “Ten?”
“Ten? Ten motorcycles?”
“Well, sure. It’s my job. How would it look if I showed up places on the same bike all the time? This one is called a touring bike. It’s longer, wider, and the seats are more comfortable for long rides.”
I giggle. “You sound like a woman with her shoes.”
He arches his brow and pulls me into him. “I’m no woman, honey.”
Feeling his body against mine, with all of his hardness, I say, “Oh, I know.”
“Good.” Releasing me, he opens a box-like compartment at end of the motorcycle. “This is for you.”
It’s a helmet. An adorable helmet. “Is this the helmet all your ladies wear when they’re on the back of your bike?”
“First of all, I bought that helmet, today, just for you. Second, the last woman who rode on the back of my bike was Molly. The one before that, Deb, about fifteen years ago.” Stepping close to me, he places the helmet on my head. Next, he snaps the chin strap in and adjusts it so it fits correctly. In a deep, sultry voice, he finishes with the best one yet. “And third, you’re the only one I want, Lainie.”
