Ribbons of Love Page 4

  I leaned forward. “I’m sorry for staring, but I wanted it to be you. It’s hard to believe it actually is.”

  “If there was ever a time to believe, Bryson, it’s right now. But maybe we should get to know each other a little better?”

  I sat up straight. “Probably a good idea. What would you like to know?”

  “Jude told Presley you were in the military?” She nervously rearranged a napkin in her lap.

  “Army. Almost four years. I was a combat medic. One long tour in Afghanistan. I decided it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life so I came back to the States, finished my contract, took a little time off to think, and started working at Vendetti Security Inc. in February of this year. Like I told you by text, we do surveillance, private security detail, and installation of security equipment.”

  “Do you carry a gun?”

  “I can, but most of the time, no. When we do security detail, we’re there to protect someone, not shoot someone. When we do surveillance, we’re not there to confront anyone, we’re there to get photographic evidence and do recon for the client. And when we install equipment, we’re there to help people feel safer, not alarmed.”

  “Recon?”

  “Reconnaissance. Collecting information and reporting what we found for future missions.”

  Her head tipped to the side. “Still sounds dangerous.”

  “Are you worried for my safety, Avery?” I teased.

  Her face paled and a whisper brushed my ear. “Maybe.”

  I reached across the table and touched her hand. Her body shivered. I squeezed. “Don’t be. It’s not as dangerous as it sounds.” The peachy hue returned to her face. “So, how was your day at Jessen?”

  “Good. Our general manager let most of us leave early.”

  “Glad you got out before the weather got bad.” My eyes scanned the front windows. A blanket of white swirled through the air. Driving her compact car in these conditions might be dangerous. “Did you go to college?”

  The waiter interrupted with our plates. I released her hand as he placed the dinners in front of us.

  Avery tasted her fish and made a happy little hum of delight. “No. I’ve never really known what I want to do with my life. I grew up with three older brothers, so there was always someone telling me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. You?”

  “I’ve been thinking about taking a couple of business classes,” I responded, slicing into my steak. “Honestly, being cooped up in a classroom sounds pretty close to torture to me. I like being outdoors too much. But it feels like if I don’t have the BS on my resume…” I clarified, “The bachelor’s degree on my resume, that something is wrong with me. I think every resume comes with a level of the other kind of BS.”

  Her giggle made me smile. “Agreed. I can see the degree thing. People get judged for having more and having less all the time. I’ve been contemplating getting an elementary education degree for a couple of years. I loved school and learning new things.”

  “Sounds like you’d make a great teacher, then. Pass that love of learning onto the next generation?”

  “Maybe.”

  While we ate our meals, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.

  She set down her fork and took a drink of water. “So, Bryson, if you could up and move without consequences or worry of money, where would you go?”

  I wiped my mouth and gazed into her eyes, a swirl of blue and green with the reflective quality of a glass ornament. “At this moment, I can’t imagine being anywhere else but right here.”

  Her gaze softened and a blush brightened the peachy skin of her cheeks. “Are you actually this charming or do you just know what I want to hear?”

  “I’m hoping a little of both.” Her blush deepened, and I picked my silverware up again. “I’ll admit, when I asked Jude to set me up with someone, I meant you. I’ve been interested in finding out who you are for awhile, there just never seemed to be a right time. I’m glad he realized who I was hinting about. And after the gym Wednesday, I couldn’t stop thinking about talking to you again.”

  “You definitely got a talking to that night. I can’t believe I got so mad at you for the texts. Again, I’m so—”

  “I know you are. I am, too. I should have walked up and said, ‘Hi, my name is Bryson, and if you don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend, I’d like to take you out to dinner.’”

  “I probably would’ve died on the spot.”

  I puffed out my bottom lip and dropped my eyes. “Then I would have cried.”

  A wide smile lifted her cheeks as she rolled her eyes.

  “Avery, you’re here. I’m here. As much as it feels like a dream, I promise, it’s all real.”

  “Just be yourself, Bryson, and I’ll do the same.”

  “Sounds good. Now, how’s your meal?”

  Keep your cool, Welch. Keep. Your. Cool.

  Chapter Eight

  Avery

  Sitting close to him was excruciating. In a completely fantastic way. I’d never wanted to touch a man like I wanted to touch Bryson. The warmth of his hand lingered on my back from two hours ago, and my hand tingled long after he gave the gentlest of squeezes.

  A hand kiss.

  The evening had been more than another game of Twenty Questions. It was like a hundred and twenty. But he always answered the questions about himself, too. I ranked transparency in a man up there with a beating heart—essential. As the conversation continued, it seemed we were stretching out the topics. The night would end soon.

  The front picture window told me everything I didn’t want to know. It would end sooner than I wanted … a lot sooner. And I wished the weather people would be publicly humiliated for their inability to reasonably forecast the weather.

  Dang, I forgot my gloves on the desk at home.

  I brought my eyes back to him, and his pastel-blue eyes were hopeful and serene.

  “Um … sorry for interrupting. Your check as requested, sir.”

  After starting out a little rocky, our waiter had been the most polite human on the earth. I realized Bryson’s show of chivalry wasn’t a show at all. He was a gentleman, equally as sensitive and thoughtful, as he was bold and honorable.

  “Thank you.” Bryson seized the payment folder and inserted his credit card.

  I drew my wallet from my purse.

  “Tonight is on me, Avery.”

  His calm tone did nothing to change my mind, but the way my name slid from his full lips made me almost speechless.

  In no time at all, my inner independent female snuck through my muteness. “Not this time. Maybe next time.” I pulled out my card and went to hand it to the waiter, but Bryson stopped my hand with his. The happy tingle returned to distract me, but I wasn’t giving in.

  “There’s no good reason.” He squeezed my hand. “I want to pay, please.”

  “There are several good reasons.”

  The waiter rocked on his heels and browsed around the room, his eyes never resting on anything for more than a couple of seconds.

  I continued, “Bryson, while I appreciate the gesture, I will pay for my own dinner. Dutch is much more comfortable for me on the first date.” I smirked and a flush of heat covered my body. “Don’t worry. I’m hoping that in the future there will be other dinners where you will pay.”

  I waved my card to the waiter. He reached forward but stopped when he glanced at Bryson.

  Bryson gave a quick nod, still holding his gaze on me. The waiter grabbed my card and moved away chuckling.

  We stayed silent, staring at each other. This night had been real, lovely, and so special that words seemed insignificant. Only actions would really speak how we were both feeling. He dragged his chair closer to mine and lifted my hand from my lap. I threaded my hand in his and enjoyed the slight callouses on the pads of his fingers as they skimmed the back of my hand. His face started to move toward mine.

  “Sorry.” The waiter never failed at having impeccable timing for ruining a momen
t.

  We released hands and backed away from each other.

  After popping an after-dinner mint in my mouth, I signed the slip and surveyed the room. It was vacant. Hadn’t even noticed.

  We stood. Every second was a tick toward the dreaded last.

  Bryson stepped to me. “We’re all alone.”

  The song, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” filled the room.

  He held out his hand. “Can I have this dance?”

  My heart raced as I set my purse on the table and slid my hand into his.

  He pulled me against his warm body. His solid muscles burst through his soft blue sweater. One of his hands rested low on my back, the other released my hand to his neck and wrapped around my shoulders, guiding me close until I placed my head on his chest, listening to his beating heart. He was a human sanctuary for my heart and soul. We swayed to the beat, finding a rhythm that was ours.

  The song ended and the echo of clapping pulled both of our heads up. The waitstaff smiled at us. They turned back into the hallway, leaving us alone.

  Bryson brushed my hair over my shoulder, and I brought my gaze up to his. His hand slid up to my neck as his head lowered. My eyes closed as his minty breaths mingled with mine. His nose skimmed along my nose as if he was prolonging what we both knew was going to be a first kiss to remember.

  Crash!

  I jumped at the sound of multiple glasses breaking in the kitchen.

  Moment broken, too.

  I opened my eyes as Bryson’s head lifted.

  “Guess I should get home.” I skimmed the taut muscles of his back with my hands.

  Bryson sighed. “Okay.” He helped me with my coat, then buttoned up his own and wound his hand in mine.

  The restaurant had been an effective refuge from the weather outside. Multiple inches of snow had fallen in such a short time. We crossed the covered sidewalk cautiously toward my vehicle.

  “Thank you for a wonderful evening, Bryson.”

  He tugged on my hand, and I spun back toward him. “Avery, you won’t make it home in that car.”

  I glared up at him to disagree, but the mischievous grin on his face made me shiver, and I found myself speechless. His arm snaked around my waist and my boots slipped through the snow as he guided me against his body. Before I could argue with him about driving home, his lips skimmed mine and his other hand slid into my hair. He held me in a clutch that tousled my hair as well as my senses. The touch of his lips was so light, every sensitive nerve of my lips exploded in tingles. I wanted to respond to his insinuation of my driving skills with a sassy retort, but I wanted to kiss him even more. Every assertive word in my head evaporated into the cold air as I tugged his face to mine.

  My hands slid into his hair, damp with the snowflakes that were still drifting from the heavens. Without my gloves, I could feel every inch of his thick blond hair as I wove it between my fingers.

  His soft, wet tongue flicked along my slightly parted lips. I opened them slowly, inviting him into my body, and whimpered at the sensation of our tongues twisting like the gentle swirls of a candy cane. My hands floated down his neck and to his chest. I unzipped his coat just enough to slip my hands through.

  “Avery…” He pulled away moaning my name. Our quick breaths materialized a frosty veil around us. “I appreciate that you are fully capable of driving home. But I insist on driving you home in my four-wheel drive Jeep. Your safety is important to me.”

  My upper teeth held a firm grip on my lower lip. My instincts to argue when my abilities were questioned even the slightest were attempting to hurdle their way out of my voice box, but he wanted to protect me, and that meant more than my stubborn heart could ever want. I closed my eyes and nodded.

  He pecked my lips while my eyes were closed. Tugging on my hand, he said, “Let’s go before it gets any worse.”

  Bryson helped me inside, started the Jeep to warm, then cleared the snow from the exterior. Soon we were on our way. His silent concentration and lack of witty banter disclosed the road conditions.

  The radio announcer relayed that four to six more inches of snow were to be expected that night. On top of the four that had already fallen, the roads would soon be impassable, if they weren’t already. Vehicles littered the ditches about every fifty to hundred feet, like an eerie car cemetery. I wondered how many people were stuck in those vehicles. The thought chilled my hands, and I raised them to the hot air coming from the side vent.

  Bryson drove at a cautious speed, but the fishtail and his simple correction happened so subtly.

  “Hold on, Avery,” were the last words I heard from him.

  Chapter Nine

  Bryson

  “Bryson! Oh, my God, Bryson!”

  I tried to remain calm but her panicked screams of my name made my heart race.

  The Jeep completed a series of spins. The right tire caught in a deep rut in the snow and veered off of the pavement and down an embankment. I straightened the wheels and regained a semblance of control, but in the next second, the vehicle slammed into a concrete water drain. The impact deployed the airbags and the sound of a screaming female ceased.

  I coughed while waving away the powder from the airbag. My contacts were covered with a fine dust and glued to my eyes.

  “Avery, are you okay?” I squinted to my right and all I saw was a sea of red leaning against the passenger window. I blinked and my contacts cleared. The blood trickling down her forehead and her closed eyes stopped my heart for the faintest of seconds. “Shit! Avery!” I tried to open my door but the impact had caused a buckling effect, trapping us in the vehicle. I unclicked my seat belt and leaned over the console to touch her face. “Avery, I need you to wake up.” My military training kicked in. I checked her pulse. Strong. Not thready. Breathing. Even … but increased. As my fingers touched her face to check her pupils, her eyes opened with a vacant gaze.

  She’s coming back. Give her time. Give her space.

  I slid my hand behind her neck. “Stay still until you know how you’re feeling.”

  Her hand skimmed her forehead and she brought it back to her eyes. “I’m bleeding? How bad is it?”

  “Not bad. We’ll put pressure on it and call for an ambulance.” I reached into the backseat and pulled a clean cotton shirt from my gym bag, then pressed the t-shirt against her forehead.

  Her tiny hand encircled my wrist. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m worried about you. It’s possible you have a concussion from the airbag deployment.”

  “My head hurts a little, but I don’t feel bad.” Her eyes widened. “Your Jeep! Oh, Bryson!”

  “Vehicles can be replaced … people can’t.”

  She held the shirt to her head while I searched for my phone. I found it on the floorboard with a crushed screen.

  “Avery, is your phone working?”

  She pulled it from her purse, examining the case blindly. “I think so.”

  “Can I use it to call for help?”

  She handed it over and continued putting pressure on the cut. “The code is 0729.”

  Without thinking, I tried my door again and heard Avery gasp when I couldn’t get out.

  Emergency dispatch answered.

  I forced my voice to remain even. “We need emergency assistance, Interstate 80, two hundred feet west of the 60th Street exit down the embankment to the north. I have a twenty-one-year-old female who needs medical attention after airbag deployment. Laceration to her forehead and possible concussion.”

  The dispatcher relayed information that increased my blood pressure.

  “I understand,” I said. “Bryson Welch and Avery…” I paused. I didn’t even know her last name yet. It hadn’t mattered up to this point.

  I touched her arm. “Avery, your last name?”

  “Knicely with a K.”

  “Avery Knicely with a K. Yes, I’m a trained army medic. We’ll be fine. As soon as possible, then.” I hung up and placed the phone in the console.
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  “Are they on their way?” Her voice and body trembled.

  I turned toward her. Rolling the bloodied section of t-shirt, I found a clean portion to hold onto the cut. It wasn’t big, but head cuts, big or small, gushed like Niagara Falls.

  “There have been a lot of accidents, some with major and multiple injuries. Those are going to take precedence in triage. I have medical training and I can take care of you.”

  She tried her door. “Oh God, we’re trapped!” Quick breaths made her chest rise and fall in a rolling motion. Her eyes bounced around the cabin.

  I slid my hand behind her neck. “Hey, sweetheart, look at me.” She brought her eyes to mine. “The vehicle is safe. Plus, even if the back doors open and we can get out, it would be too dangerous to walk anywhere in these conditions. The interstate is closed.”

  “I’m scared.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m not. Please believe me that it’s going to be okay.” I wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  She nodded.

  I took another look at the gash on her head. “You might need a couple stitches. I have a first aid kit in the trunk. If we move to the backseat I can at least bandage the cut to keep it clean and stop the bleeding.”

  She nodded again but her silence worried me.

  “I need you to continue to talk to me so that I know you’re not in shock.”

  Her eyes closed and she took a couple of deep breaths. “I’m with you.” She smirked. “I … can get … hysterical, occasionally.”

  I smiled. Didn’t seem like I needed to confirm the statement. Plus, everything about her was fascinating to me, even the adorable semi-hysterical parts. I found pleasure in calming her and watching the red flush of distress reduce to a peaceful pink blush.

  “Into the backseat, then.”

  She adjusted in the seat to her knees. “I don’t like being confined in small spaces.”

  With her back to me, I turned the ignition to auxiliary and lowered my window a small crack for fresh air.

  “Me neither. Let’s think of our waiting as … a game?”