A low, long whistle fills the cavernous space around us. “Damn, woman. Look at you on that hot ride.”
“You like it?” I rub my hands over the chrome handlebars, down to the silver painted gas tank, them over the skintight jeans that are hugging mu thighs.
“I don’t just like it, Duchess.” He sets the helmet and stack of envelopes in his hand on the seat of a bike the next row over, then lifts me off his Harley and straight into his arms. “I love everything happening right now.”
“Really?”
“Really, really.”
“I was hoping you’d like it.”
“Which part are you talkin’ about?” I unwrap my legs from his waist and he lowers me to my feet. “All the riddles, the meaningful gifts, the Harley, or you in this bangin’ outfit? Woman, you in black lace does somethin’ to me.”
He leans down for a kiss, so I give him one. “All of the above.”
“I love all of you, Duchess. The gifts are just a bonus to being your Old Man.”
“I was hoping you’d love everything. Especially the bike.”
“Is this really the Harley I’ve been eyeing at the dealership for months? How did you know I wanted this one?”
“A little birdie may have told me.”
“Who?”
I give him a soft, playful shove. “You did, ya goof. You came home from meeting at the dealership with someone, I don’t remember who, and you did nothing but go on and on about it for days. I went over a couple days later and bought it. Hammer helped arrange for it to be delivered, and here it is.” I do a little Vanna White wave.
Whiskey circles the bike a few times, looking at it from all different angles. “I wish I could take it for a ride.”
“I wouldn’t advise that until all the snow has melted.”
“This baby won’t see the outside until we’ve had enough rain to wash away all the road salt too.” When he circles back in front of me again, he scoops me up and spins us both in circles. When he stops, he buries his face in my neck and smothers me with skin-tingling kisses. “Thank you, Duchess. I love you. This has been the best birthday yet.”
I tap him on the shoulder and he puts me down. “I’m not quite done just yet.”
“What do you mean? What else could you possibly have gotten me that I would love more than this?” He points at the Harley.
The door opens and Angel pops her head in.” Hi, guys. Happy birthday, Whiskey. Bye.” She waves and is gone.
Krew rounds the corner into the aisle and wobbly runs toward his dad holding another envelope.
“Hi, Krew,” I kneel and he runs into my arms. “Can you give that to your daddy?”
He turns to give it to Whiskey, who is also kneeling beside me. We both then sit on the floor.
Whiskey opens the envelope with eight pink heart stickers on it and reads the card inside.
The riddle will be stuck in my brain forever.
Lots more giggles.
Lots more fun.
Our family is growing.
But not just by one.
“Flip it over.”
