“It’s for wine.” He comes back and presses the Swiss Knife-esque thing to my palm. “Corkscrew tucks in, so it won’t poke you when it’s in your pocket. Tiny knife, to cut the foil from a bottle.”
“Ollie—”
“Right in here.” He taps my temple. “Give it a wiggle for maximum effect.”
“You’re a psychopath.”
He closes my fingers around the contraption. “Call me whatever you want.” He meets my eyes and nods, shuddering on an exhale. “Just call me.”
The doorbell rings a third time.
“Fuck’s sake. He’s pissing me off already.” He slings his arm over my shoulders and marches me into the living room, past the small table where my phone is on charge. Whipping the cord out of the device and checking the screen, he slips it into my back pocket, then he peels the corkscrew thingy from my palm and slides it into the other. Finally, he grabs my arms and forces me to face him. To look into his eyes. “I’mnotmad at you. Youdomatter. I love you. Come home to me.” He presses a slow, delicate kiss to my lips, lingering for a long beat. Tasting, but not devouring. Nibbling, but it’s entirely appropriate. Sniffling, he pulls away and searches my eyes, staring in silence, even as a thousand desperate thoughts pass through his bright blue orbs. Then, swallowing, he walks me to the front door and carefully toes Poppy to the side. He releases me, presenting a united—but not romantic—front, then he exhales and opens the door to reveal Darcy on the other side.
He looks handsome, in black slacks and a sweater covering a collared shirt. His hair is still a little wet, neatly combed to the side. His smile is sweet and friendly, except when he looks at Ollie. Then they darken. Most strikingly, he clutches a bouquet of blood-red roses in front of his chest, and when I clear my throat, he starts and peels his eyes back to mine. He thrusts the flowers forward. “For you.”
“Oh. Um…” Hesitantly, I accept the bouquet and look down at the deep red blooms. “Th-thank you.”
He looks me up and down. Probing and yet, appreciative. “No dress?”
“Is this not okay?” I run my free hand over my trembling belly. “S-should I change?”
“Absolutely not,” Ollie grumbles. “It’s cold out tonight.”
“No.” Darcy stumbles forward a step, nervously laughing and placing his hand over my wrist. “You definitely shouldn’t change. You look great. It’s just taking me a minute to remember who you are now is a little different from who you were before.” His cheeks blaze a bright, charming red. “Except when you were at work, you would almost always be wearing a dress, even on a regular weekend when we had nowhere else to be.” He releases a shaky breath. Then he looks at Ollie and smiles. “Doctor Darling.”
Ollie nods. Short. Sharp. Not entirely welcoming. “You want me to put your roses in a vase,Rose?” Robotic, he shifts and brings his focus my way, his teeth gritted, and his eyes alight with ‘I’m totally gonna toss them in thetrash when you leave.’ He licks his lips and takes them anyway. “I’ll be awake for a long while, so if you need a ride home or whatever…”
“I’ll bring her back.” Darcy scoops his arm beneath mine, drawing me across the threshold.
Battle lines have been drawn.
“I won’t be out late.” I hold Ollie’s stare and wish my stomach didn’t squirm as much as it does. That the idea of going out for an hour or two didn’t feel like such a horrible chore.
Tell me not to go!
“Be safe.” He takes a step back, hooking his foot under Poppy’s belly before she can chase me out of the house. “Text if you need anything.”
A tension headache brews in the back of my skull. My jaw throbs from the tight grip I have on it. When Darcy turns, gently tugging me around with him, I glance over my shoulder and cling to the only home I know. The home I want.
Tell me to stay!
“It’s still pretty cold here, huh?” Darcy leads me down the porch steps and into the night, across the lawn still trying to recover from the most brutal winter I’ve ever known… or at least, the worst winter I can remember. He draws me toward a dark… something. A car that sits low to the ground, with tinted windows and a curved hood that implies he likes to go fast.
Darcy taps the unlock button on his key fob, which illuminates the whole car. The headlights flicker on, and the interior lights brighten to reveal soft brown leather seats and a futuristic dash decades ahead of Ollie’s semi-ancient truck. He opens the passenger door and draws me around, his chest close enough to brush against as I turn and slide in. His Colgate smile, bright enough to glitter in the dark.
He’s very careful, watching and waiting as I lift my feet into the car, then he closes the door and jogs around to his side. And all the while, Ollie waits on the porch, Poppy seated on his broad shoulder, his arms crossed, and my flowers… gone.
“I had to ask for restaurant recommendations, since I’m not from around here.” Darcy closes his door, dropping the interior of the car into pitch darkness, then he hits a button and has the engine powering to life so the smooth, humming motor sends vibrations through the floor. “The lady who owns the place where I’m staying said there’s an amazing Italian restaurant across town. It’s small, and honestly, when I drove past, if I were judging on appearances only, I probably would’ve kept going and found someplace else. But Camille swears by it.”
“It’s good there. I’ve been and liked it.” I gulp and keep my eyes on Ollie, even as we back out of the driveway. Even as we roll to a stop on theroad and Darcy slides the gear into drive. And even when we start forward, along a dark road that looks like the dark roads in all my nightmares.
I twist in my seat and watch Ollie until I can’t anymore.
Then I straighten out again and swallow the whimper bumping along my throat.
ROUND FIFTY-ONE
ROSE
