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“What are you doing here?”
She can’t see the way my eyes devour her standing there at the curb. The wind plays with her hair and plays with the hem of her dress, bowing it up around her tan legs. I’ve never seen her in heels and damn… they make her already lean legs shapelier than I thought was possible.
Teen girls giggle and point at me on my old Harley, leaning on one foot with the engine idling.
“Waitin’ to pick up my girl,” I finally say.
She shakes her head and with pink cheeks takes the helmet and bouquet of roses from my hands.
“You didn’t think I’d forget my doll’s first day of school, did you?”
“Thank you,” she inhales the flowers and leans down to kiss me.
“The new teach has a boyfriend!” Someone singsongs.
“Yeah, she does. And if any one of you punks gives her a hard time. I’ll have your asses!”
“Rog!” she cries in embarrassment, “Let’s get out of here. You can’t speak to them like that.”
“The hell I can’t.”
Her arms clutch me, one holding the flowers, and I take off. It feels good to finally have her riding behind me, hands hugging my waist, thighs clutching around as we zip through the streets.
I wanna date her right, and not just meet after dark for nights full of passion. Although, we’ll have plenty of those too.
I called Shanna, red-faced, askin’ her how to plan a romantic date in Springdale. She came through like I knew she would.
We ride to the other side of town to the logging mill restaurant. Some couple from Seattle bought it a few years back and turned the pond, mill, and barn into a hoity venue for weddings.
It’s a Tuesday night and they had nothing goin’ on. When I called explaining I was taking someone special out on a first date, they were more than eager to help. They said there were even leftover flowers and decorations from last weekend’s wedding between two “high society” types from Washington. I laughed because Springdale’s a tight community. We protect our own and don’t put up with any bullshit from outsiders.
I turn into the long drive, abs clenching as she breathes in my ear, “Oh, Rog.”
They must’ve installed a sprinkler system since the expansive lawn looks like a damn country club. The apple trees are almost in season and rows of them sway in the late summer breeze.
The drive is lined with a white picket fence and maples. My palms start to sweat making my grip on the handle bars slip.
My heart’s pounding not even knowing why.
I’ve bedded her already and yet, there’s so much romance going on here I can taste it on my tongue.
We reach the end and I park helping my lady dismount and I don’t let her hand go.
“I know it’s early for dinner yet. But I thought we could have some wine and crackers and walk the grounds?”
“Sounds perfect,” she whispers, “but first I need to do this.” Her hands land on either side of my face stroking my beard. Her soft pink lips part, I growl, closing the distance between us, parting her lips with mine and thrusting my tongue.
I moan, shifting my lips closer, high on feeling in her in my arms again. I can’t stop thinking about the night we shared three days ago.
“Hmmm, who needs wine? I’m drunk on you, sugar.”
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from my kiss. I sigh linking our hands. This dating shit is gonna be damn hard when all I want to do is be inside her 24/7.
We walk hand in hand through an arbor with vines twisted over it, down a gravel path to a pavilion in back by a man-made lake with a fountain bubbling in the center.
I hold a seat out for her to sit and pour her a glass of the ice-cold Chardonnay that I know is her favorite. I called ahead to make sure everything would be all set for wooing my woman.
“This is the nicest surprise,” she murmurs taking a sip and closing her eyes. My eyes follow her every move, the way her throat works as she swallows.