by Jules Dixon
EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2016 Jules Dixon
ISBN: 978-1-77339-102-1
Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Editor: Lisa Petrocelli
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This story is dedicated to Sidney and Alex.
Your smiles and excitement remind me of the miracle of the holidays. I remember back to your first Christmases and the memories fill me with love and pride.
Ribbons eternally connect my heart to yours.
Love, Mom
RIBBONS OF LOVE
Triple R, 6
Jules Dixon
Copyright © 2016
Chapter One
Bryson
I scanned the mirrored walls as the treadmill started moving.
Female. Red hair. Blue, maybe green eyes. 5’4” or 5’5”. Early twenties. Cute little smile. Rockin’ body.
Most of the time my training in surveillance and observation was useful, sometimes it turned disturbing. I was dividing a human into features and body parts like Hannibal Lecter. In my creepy defense, the girl I was scouting had some really great parts. Hell, on this girl, everything was a best part. Of course, my army-trained skillset had done nothing to accomplish getting a date with her. We both worked out here at Run-Ride-Rock Gym, nicknamed Triple R, but timing always seemed to be against me when I went to make my move.
Maybe tonight.
I ran at a quick pace on the treadmill. My eyes darted around the mirrored room but there was no sign of her.
Maybe not.
I pulled out my earbuds and slowed my treadmill when my personal trainer, Jude, appeared to my right. “Hey, finishing up my last session. I’ll be right with you.”
I nodded, slowing the machine to more of a jog.
He stepped behind me and addressed his client. “What did you think of your first session?”
The airy and elegant timbre of a female voice floated through the clanking noises of the gym. “It was challenging. My muscles feel like stretched rubber bands. In a good way, of course.”
Jude chuckled. “You did a great job. Look forward to seeing you again next Monday, same time. Have a great week—”
Beep! The machine indicated my time was up.
Jude stepped in front of me again. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” I stepped off, turned, and the delicate face that matched the frilly voice entered into my vision.
Suspect identified.
My shoes squeaked on the rubber surface as I shuffled a step. Her hair was red, but not any red—flame-kissed red. Her long curled strands were pulled into a ponytail that swayed from side to side while her shapely legs pounded against the treadmill. Through her bangs, her eyes flashed to mine. Those large blue-green spheres held for mere seconds but it was long enough to establish a color verdict. She was equal parts unique and stunning.
I smiled, catching a glimpse of her adorable smile in return.
Yes.
She increased the speed of her machine to a pace that impressed the avid runner in me. I heaved from my pause and followed Jude to the free-weights area. While I was getting beat up by his extreme but targeted training approach, the redhead grabbed her water bottle and exited the gym floor.
No name and number tonight.
An idea navigated my mind as I pulled the lines of the machine taut for the final set. “You going to the Triple R holiday party next Friday, Jude?”
“Presley and I’ll be there. You?”
After finishing the final set of butterflies, I wiped my face with a towel. “Yeah. You know anyone who might be interested in a night out?” I paused. “Let me clarify … not anyone … a girl.” I’d recently been told both women and gay men found me attractive, so I wanted to be sure to make my orientation clear, just in case Jude had questions.
Jude chuckled, then narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you bring Breigh?” He sneezed in rapid succession. “Excuse me.”
“Bless you. Because Rahl would cut my testicles off.”
Jude laughed, but stopped as he realized it was probably true. He and my boss, Rahl Vendetti, were good friends. Rahl had a gruff side only his girlfriend, Sage, appreciated. Although gruff had happened a lot less since he’d met Sage. I could tell their relationship wasn’t only average. It was special. I was ready for something like that.
I continued, “Plus, Breigh and I get along like brother and sister.” I picked up my water bottle and took a drink. “I’m looking for someone who’s sweet and down-to-earth, like Breigh, but maybe has auburn hair.” I took another drink. “Or maybe a cute redhead?”
Jude glanced up from his clipboard and smirked. “Redhead, huh?”
“Anything but blonde.”
“Allergic to blondes?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I’ll let you know if I think of anyone.”
I was drenched in sweat when I left the gym. Felt great until the cold Omaha, Nebraska winter air reminded me I was no longer in warm, sunny Georgia. I’d returned almost two years ago to figure out what I wanted to do with my life after the army turned out not to be a lifetime commitment. Visions of the redhead started swirling through my brain. What might a “lifetime of commitment” mean to her?
Hope Jude got the hint, and really hope she’s available.
Chapter Two
Avery
My muscles had screamed their desire to stay in bed this morning before I managed to limp to the shower. After using enough hot water to drain the water heater, my muscles altered to only marginally better. Less screaming, more grumbling. Jude’s workouts weren’t intense. They were brutal.
At work I stretched my legs under the desk for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. One of our best salespeople walked in juggling a tray of coffee and a container of muffins.
“Good morning, Presley.” I limped toward her and grabbed the muffins.
“Good morning, Avery. For you and the girls.”
My eyes widened at the sight of fresh black coffee. “Your fiancé is sadistic when it comes to training.” I grunted when I sat in my seat.
She smiled. “He definitely takes his job seriously.”
I held up a cup of coffee. “Thank you for this. I needed it.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the…” She cleared her throat. “Ahem, hard work you’ve been putting forth lately.” She winked before turning to her office.
I giggled at the underlying meaning. Because Presley was the only female salesperson, the all-female reception and phone staff tended to give her a fair share, and then some, of customer referral slips, and in return she brought us treats to show us her gratitude. Considering a large percentage of the employees at the car dealership were male, and some of them were arrogant and cocky males, we women had to stick together.
After getting settled in her office, Presley returned to the front desk. She was one of the highest performing salespeople here at Jessen Auto, which made her one of my idols as far as females went. December was a big month at the dealership. Ice and snowstorms caused plenty of car accidents that necessitated a new or new-to-the-customer vehicle, and some people found a car an appropriate gift for the holidays. Lucky gift recipients.
“How’s your day going?” she asked between si
ps of coffee.
“Slow. I put a referral slip on your desk.”
“I saw it. Thanks.”
“How are the wedding plans coming along?” Pulling the paper wrapper off of a blueberry muffin, I tore off a small piece and plopped it in my mouth.
Presley sat her coffee on the counter. “My fiancé is quite the event planner. Jude has it all figured out, down to the smallest detail.”
“Really?”
I couldn’t imagine my muscle-clad trainer, Jude Saylor, wanting to do the semi-estrogen-based tasks that came with planning a wedding. But that was just Jude. Sometimes he included little handwritten notes in Presley’s lunches. She would show me the ones that said, “Thinking of you” and “I’ll love you forever,” but then there were some that made her blush and sigh, which she wouldn’t let me read.
I appreciated what they’d found in each other. And a big part of me wished for that once-in-a-lifetime, meant-forever connection with a guy like Jude. A guy who went the extra mile to make me smile and blush and sigh was probably a statistical anomaly, but I still dreamed of him.
“Really,” she said and sighed, bringing herself from her swooning moment. “Anyway, hey, before I forget, Jude has this client, a new friend. I’ve never met him, but Jude thinks highly of him. The guy is looking for a date to the Triple R holiday party. Would you be interested in going out with him this weekend to test the waters for next Friday’s party?”
“A blind date?” I chewed a piece of muffin in my now dry mouth.
“I guess so. I asked Jude if he was cute and Jude said, and I quote, ‘Guys don’t call each other cute. But he does put effort into maintaining his body, and he has a job. The rest, I don’t know’.”
After a tense giggle, I leaned forward across the desk. “Prez, I’m not great on dates. Actually, there really hasn’t been much dating in my life at all. So I really don’t know how I am on dates.”
She thought for a moment. “Why don’t Jude and I double date with you? That would be fun. Please! We haven’t gone out since that time at House of Loom with all the girls. It’s past time we do something fun.”
“Um … I guess that would be okay.” The muffin in my stomach turned into a rock of nerves.
“Great. I’ll ask Jude to set up the place and have him text me this guy’s information.” She rolled her eyes. “His name and his number, not his shoe size. I better do some selling so I can afford that wedding dress. I’ll talk to you later.”
I lifted my coffee as she walked away.
A date? I hadn’t had a date in … well, longer than I’d admit. It wasn’t from lack of wanting, it was more lack of initiative.
I tilted the cup and hot coffee lashed my throat reminding me of when my body had burned with a different kind of pleasure last night. At Triple R, a blond-haired guy stepped in front of my treadmill and stopped for a couple of seconds. His blue flame eyes with long blond lashes and soft smile played in my head for the rest of my cardio workout. He’s a client of Jude’s. But he’s way too cute not to have a girlfriend. And technically, I wasn’t even sure he was actually looking at me. The clock was over my head.
Before Presley left for the day, she stopped to let me know that Jude texted the guy, but he hadn’t heard back. As soon as she knew something, I would know something. The wait was both exciting and excruciating.
After work, I drove to my oldest brother’s house to babysit my nieces, Sabrina and Sahara. Adam’s wife was a night nurse at the hospital and he had bowling Tuesday nights, so this was a weekly occurrence, but tonight was the last night of the year for his league, and I was looking forward to having my Tuesdays back until the spring.
Adam rounded the corner into the kitchen. “So, sis, my friend Russ has a son, Seth, who’s about your age. You two should go do something together.”
My upper body shuddered. “Seriously, Adam, trying to set me up on a date is totally creepy.”
Having Presley and Jude setting me up was uncomfortable enough. Having big bro thinking about my dating life was über embarrassing. He needed to keep his thoughts to bowling and commodities trading. Sometimes the attention and guidance I received from my three brothers was a little much. They did the majority of their protective actions out of love and concern, but then there were times when they crossed a line. Like right now.
“Plus, I have a date on Friday.” I set the table for dinner.
“With who and what does he do?”
I paused mid-step to the stove. “Um, I don’t know … yet.”
Shouldn’t have said that.
Turning my back to Adam, I finished cooking homemade mac and cheese for the girls.
“How can you not know his name and what he does?”
I rolled my eyes while staring into the pot of stringy, cheesy goodness. “It’s a blind date. My friend at work is arranging it. She’ll let me know his name and she and her fiancé will be there as buffers.”
“You’re not doing that, Avery.”
I glared over my shoulder. “Yes, I am. You don’t get to boss me around like I’m three again.”
“Twenty-two is not grown up. A number doesn’t indicate maturity.”
I was actually only twenty-one, but I wasn’t going to correct him.
I spun to him. “One, I paid for my own car. Two, I pay my own rent. Three, I have a dependable job. And lastly, I’m thinking of going back to school to get a teaching degree. Now, tell me how I’m not responsible and/or mature?”
My brother huffed. “I need to leave for league. I’ll be back around eleven.”
“So I’m not mature enough to decide my own dating life, but you trust me to take care of your daughters?”
Adam dropped his bowling bag on the kitchen chair with a loud clunk. “Avery, I trust you. It’s the millions of jerks out there I don’t trust. They’re only looking for one thing.”
My hands fisted and my face heated. I’d been transported back to the emotional roller coaster of my youth. “I get to decide who to trust and who not to trust in my life. Not you, Adam.”
“Just be careful and take it slow. Have a good night with the girls.”
I waved him good-bye.
So done with that conversation.
The girls and I played hide-and-seek after dinner. Baths and bed happened without any fussing. They were as worn out as I was. I was lying on the sofa contemplating if I wanted to get my e-reader from my purse in the kitchen. Seemed too far to walk and my legs were killing me from running the girls around. My phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Presley: The guy’s name is Bryson. Jude texting his phone number.
Bryson? Cute name. Bry … Bryson ... Brys … hmmm.
Presley’s next text flashed the ten digits. I’d never made the first move in a relationship but this didn’t feel like a real move either. Texting felt like something I’d do with a friend. Not that I had any guy friends.
Avery: Hi. I’m Avery. Guess I’m your date Friday night with Presley and Jude.
I placed the phone on my chest and stared at the ceiling. Rolling off the couch, I decided to get up and grab my e-reader.
As I was lying down, my phone buzzed again.
Chapter Three
Bryson
“Bryson, wrap the front columns with the red lights, too.” My mother’s voice rang out from the front porch.
“I will.” I hauled the boxes from the garage attic.
After work, I traveled the fifty miles to my mother’s home in Lincoln to help her put up lights. That really meant I’d do the installation and she’d watch. And criticize the job I was doing.
“I need to check on dinner,” she said. “I’ll be back.”
Can’t wait.
As I stepped off the ladder, a black sedan pulled into the driveway with two blondes inside. Neither of whom I wanted to see.
The one with blue eyes like mine gave me a hug. “Hey, bro. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“Hello, Emerson. Yes, you did. Mom said
she talked to you this afternoon.”
“I must’ve forgotten.”
My sister’s memory was one of convenience. Often she kept track of details so closely you’d think she was the one trained in observation, but other times she pretended the blonde coloring she used on her hair had bleached her brain of facts and details, too.
The other blonde slinked over and pecked a kiss on my cheek. “Nice to see you, Bryson.”
“Hello, Quinn.”
“How are you doing?” Her fluttering, chocolate doe-eyes had very little effect on me.
Now.
I rubbed my cold hands together. “I’m fine.”
“I’d love to have coffee sometime.”
“I need to get these lights up.” Squatting, I went to work on the tangle of lights in the box.
“Come on, Quinn.” My sister pulled her friend toward the house. “Let’s leave Mr. Grouchy Butt alone.”
In a little over an hour, I had the red and white lights up and was sitting at the table eating dinner surrounded by blondes with painted-on faces and the newest sparkling-like-a-disco-ball designer wear. Even my mother tended toward vain, and after the divorce she wore bitter as her favorite color. Being able to be “all I could be” far from her and my sister made the army look really attractive after high school.
Emerson piped up. “Quinn and I are going out on Friday. Bry, wanna come with?”
“I have a date.”
“With who?”
“You wouldn’t know her. It’s a double date with Jude Saylor and his fiancée, Presley.”
“What? You’re friends with Jude? He’s the reason I was fired from Triple R.”
I dropped my fork and stared across the table at my sister. “No, you were fired from Triple R because you were nasty to clients, created trouble, and lied to Uncle Blake. As the owner, you almost caused him big legal problems.”