After I've eaten, and made sure she did too, I hustle to her room, whistling the whole way. I've retrieved a large bag from my room, stuffed full of things we need for the date.
“Knock, knock Bambi,” I sing-song as I rap on her door.
“Trikk. What's in the bag?” Bambi opens the door with a dazzling smile and reaches for the large duffle; but I pull it out of her reach, tutting.
“Would you accompany me on a day date, Bambi? I have a surprise for you.” I know she’s a sucker for surprises.
“Surprise, you say? Well... I’ve got no other plans. I'd love to, Trikk. Come inside while I change. What do I need to wear?” She's off to her closet already, rifling through it.
“Dress for the outside,” is all I tell her.
I clam up before mentioning a swimsuit. It will be a dead giveaway. Good thing I shoved a bikini into the bag.
It only takes her a few minutes to change, into an adorable tank top with ruffled straps, and a pair of denim shorts with her Chucks. She put her hair into a high ponytail.
Turning to me, she grins. “Ready.”
I smile back, gathering her into a hug then bending her back over my arm dramatically to give her a movie-worthy kiss.
“Swoon,” she mutters, fanning her face.
“I’m going to sweep you off your feet today, my love.” I kiss her on her cute little nose, and she follows me out.
“Does Jax know we’re leaving?” Bambi asks from behind me.
“Yep. I cleared it all first. Harris knows, too. No worries.”
Tossing the keys in my hand, I let us into the parking garage, entering the code. I carefully chose the flashiest vintage car out of them all. I had to beg my ass off, but it will be worth it to see her face.
It's parked behind a fleet of SUVs in the back, so it’s hard to see. It's one of Jax’s beloved collection, and he threatened to string me up if I damage it.
Bambi gasps behind me, emitting a girlish squeal. “Oh my God. Is this...? No way. I must be dreaming. This is my other dream car!”
She lovingly runs a hand down the side of the sleek, red machine. It sparkles in the light. There's a black stripe down the side and it has a convertible top.
I open the door for her. She peers inside the 1987 Trans-Am, noting the all-original parts. The black leather seats are still soft and supple. It's spotless inside.
“This is awesome. Start it up, Trikk,” Bambi says enthusiastically.
I turn the key, and she purrs like a dream. I put on some gas, and the throaty growl fills the garage.
“I’m in love,” Bambi groans, making me laugh.
“My competition is a car,” I say, earning a giggle from her.
We head out, and I turn the machine eastward. Our date location is about thirty minutes from here, which I let her know.
“It’s fine.” Bambi fiddles with the radio, cranking it up when she finds an 80s station. “Oh, hell yeah.”
She fist-pumps, singing at the top of her lungs.
“We are the youth gone wild,” we sing together.
My smile is so big, it hurts. Her reaction is going to be the best ever.
We're almost to our destination, so I slow down, looking for the parking area. Finding it, I slide into a parking space and shut off the car.
Reaching into the bag, I pull out a blindfold.
