“Did he choke over the word?” Icer has always been adamant, according to Rush and the guys, that he would never, in a million years, tie himself to a woman. That man’s past still haunts him, he’s a prisoner of it, and I’m not sure that demon, a.k.a, his father, will ever let him out of its clutches. It’s got a chokehold over him, and from what little I’ve been told, it’s warranted. But that’s his story to tell and I’ll never let it slip free from my lips.
“It looked like he had swallowed barbed wire while saying it,” she confesses.
“But he said it and that’s what matters,” I remind her.
“Time will tell,” she mumbles.
“That it will, my friend,” I say, tossing my arm over her shoulder and leading her into the family room. “Until that time comes, let’s just enjoy the simple moments.”
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Riptide
It’sValentine’s today and it’s time to execute my plans. First on the agenda was sending her out for a spa day. Once I shuffled her out the door, I grabbed my little man out of his playpen and scooped him into my arms and carried him out to the gazebo to investigate and give it some final touches.
The lights and tulle have already been strung, dinner will arrive shortly after we do, and the surround sound is set up with a playlist of my choosing. I glance around and notice the firepits are prepped with wood and all I’ll have to do is light them an hour before I bring her here so it’ll ward off the chill of the evening.
I put a lot of thought into making her feel my love. I can tell her morning, noon, and night what she means to me, but sometimes, actions speak louder than words and that’s my intention with this setup.
“Your guy did good,” Letti tells me as she comes in from behind me, bouquets of wildflowers inside a cart being wheeled inbehind her. “Some guys got it, and some don’t. You, however, have got it in spades.”
“Do I even want to know what you’re referring to when you say I’ve got it?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder as she makes her way beside me.
“It’s what my people call ‘the knowing’,” she informs me. “Your insight into what will make Van feel special is ingrained inside of you, Riptide.”
I’m one of the most skeptical people you’ll ever know so I grunt in response because I can’t think of anything to say about it. I’m not a believer in anything supernatural or spiritual, so when people start with their jargon, I let them say their piece and move on. I’ll never berate or persecute those who do believe in the afterlife and have faith in the hereafter and everything that comes with it, but it’s not something I can wrap my brain around and make it make sense.
After I do my time here on earth, all I want to do is rest in peace and bask in the fact that I won’t have to face life’s hardships any longer. Fuck knows I’ve had enough bullshit dealt to me while I breathe, I don’t want to be earthbound longer than necessary and be fed more of it.
Letti elbows me, chiding, “It’s a compliment, Riptide. Take it and be gracious about it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, tossing her a forced smile. She shakes her head at me and moves forward. “Do you think the flowers are overkill? I don’t want it to be too much.”
“No, it’s the right amount, Riptide. Even if you turned it into a garden, it’d be just right. Women love flowers, unless they’re allergic to them or they come from the wrong reason.”
“There’s a wrong reason for giving a woman some flowers?” I ask, wanting to get her perspective.
“There is. Especially if she doesn’t want them from you,” she points out.
I mull that over for a minute and think about all the different scenarios a female wouldn’t want that type of attention from a man. Liking a woman’s input so I can store it in my memory for a later date and time, in case I screw up, I ask, “Such as?”
“A break up gone wrong. A stalker. After a fight where the meaning is acceptable as long as they’re followed up by an apology,” she lists. “Those are just a few examples. I can think of many more, but that’ll take us sitting down for a long conversation.”
“Those things won’t be an issue between Van and me so they’re moot,” I state as I juggle my little man, situating him in a more comfortable position on my hip.
Letti’s lips lift in the corner in amusement as she gets to work. I sit my boy on the wooden floor and give him a cloth book to occupy him while I help her tie the flowery bundle to the center of the ribbon that’s holding the tulle together on the beams. Once we’re done and I take a step back, I’m satisfied that it’s just the right amount of romance to set the scene I had in my mind.
“Icer and I were talking,” Letti says, breaking into my review of the setup.
“That’s dangerous,” I quip. “What have y’all been talking about?”
“Hardee, har, har,” she lambastes, giving me the evil eye, shaking her head at me as if she’s disappointed in me. “You’ve got jokes today, Riptide. And they’re not funny.”
“I thought it was,” I counter. “Sorry if I offended you, Letti. It’s just the thought of Icer talking instead of grunting that gives me room for concern as far as chats go. What were y’all talking about?”
She answers by telling me, “We want to give you two the entire night to yourselves so you don’t have to come back to kids after this amazing evening you’ve got planned.”
