Page 8

Rhodes---Gentle Goes the Way

She is breathtaking, even after being caught in the rain. I watch as she stomps her feet and shakes out her hair, smirking at her annoyance. She makes her way inside, muttering something I can’t quite hear under her breath. It is probably about me, given the look Parker is shooting my way.

I barely turn in my seat, tracking her as she weaves to her spot. Gods, she is gorgeous. There is a confidence about her, the way she carries herself like a shield against the world. She perches, her back to the wall, and pulls out a well worn and about half-read book. Her hair falls across her face as she tugs the sleeves of the maroon sweater from her leather jacket, her boots finding their spot on the chair crossbar. At some point in the next two hours, she’ll retrieve the licorice bites from her bag and she’ll cover her hands with her sleeves while picking at the cuticles, occasionally biting at one. She never gets up from the table, never deviates from routine, and not a single person will approach her. Her orbit is impenetrable, which only makes me want to shake her loose—to play this game with her.

I return to my crossword, occasionally looking around at the patrons passing me. As I finish the last clue, I glance at the clock, noting that she’s about to start packing up. I drain the last bit of coffee, now cold from sitting, and wait. I hear her approach, murmuring to herself about how she is finally warm and that she doesn’t want to go back out in the rain.

I move the same time she does, loving the way her eyes widen and her chest expands with a deep breath. I make her nervous, skittish almost. We meet near the front, my hand brushing against the soft leather of her jacket as I reach to hold the door open. The distrust is evident on her face, as I note her hand clenching and then relaxing again only for her index finger to run itself along her thumbnail. Her nails are the deepest green today and I spy the end of ink on her wrist, trailing up into the sleeve of her jacket. I immediately want to trace the line, exploring her as I memorize every stroke of her beauty. As I appreciate the masterpiece of curves and softness in a harsh world.

“Here. Let me walk you to your car.” I wrap my hand around the handle, pulling it toward us. She stops, her spine going straight. It is as if being this close to me is uncomfortable for her. I take a half step back, giving her room as her eyes scan the skies and sighing as she wets her lips.

“I’ll be fine. I’m not far.” Her voice is something that will forever call to the pieces of my soul I haven’t lost; gentle and steadfast, she could bring me to my knees with a single word falling from her lips.

“It’s pouring out. I have an umbrella and really don’t mind.” I crane my head in every effort to meet her eyes, that shade of grey haunting in the best way. “Please?”

She pulls that plump bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing on it as I wait for her decision–-not that it’ll stop me from walking with her. She’ll be escorted one way or the other. I need her safe.

I need her.

“Amelia!” I pause as I hear Parker yell from behind me, schooling my features to hide my grin. The siren in front of me sighs, rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath as Parker continues. “Let Rhodes walk you to your car. I know you hate being cold.”

I peer at Amelia, barely containing my smirk as she turns her head ever so slightly. “Fine. But no talking, no touching, and you best not let that umbrella drop.”

My girl has some fire under that gaze.

I cannot wait to make her burn brighter.

Ensuring that my umbrella doesn’t drop as we exit, I move to walk between her and the street. The rain is heavier now, puddles growing around the sewers grates, and Amelia’s anxiety hasn’t lessened. I wonder just how much she’d hate it if I ask her about herself now that I have her alone.

As we near her car, I watch her and take in the enigma who’s eluded me. She’s even more beautiful up close. Her face delicate, the bridge of her nose sloping gently before meeting plush lips with a perfect cupid’s bow. She has thick eyebrows which frame those tempestuous eyes that cut me to my core every time they’re flashed my way. Her neck is elegant, and the way her shoulders carry what seems like the weight of this world is mesmerizing. My eyes travel down her body, all while making sure she’s missing every single puddle on the way. I guide us, weaving our bodies as we walk so Amelia can have the drier cement patches. My shoes are no match for the amassed water but if it means her boots stay dry, I’ll take the soaked socks every time.

“This is me,” she says as we reach a dark green SUV. “Thank you for walking me.”

I smirk, wanting to toy with her a bit.

“You can thank me by going to dinner. After all, I saved you from melting.”

Those grey eyes peer up at me, our height difference more noticeable now. Her gaze narrows, her mind likely trying to determine if there is an ulterior motive. She sighs, running her tongue along the front of her teeth before caging her bottom lip.

“Fine. Dinner.”

“Capiolla’s. Tomorrow at seven?” I gaze back at her, every fiber of me wanting to push her against the car door and run my nose along her neck, nestling where it joins her shoulder. “I also don’t mind meeting you here if that’s easier for you.”

“No.” Her voice is sure and her hands move in front of her, likely aching to pick a cuticle or run her thumb along the underside of her pointers. “I will meet you at the restaurant.”

I lean in, following her as she slides into her car, pausing before closing the door.

“I’ll see you then, Amelia. Dream well,” I say and then walk away, excitement building as I think about finally having this powerhouse of a woman all to myself.