Ribbons of Love

by Jules Dixon

  And didn’t get her number … not even her name. How lame, Welch!

  ****

  I sat unproductively at my desk the next morning, the redhead from the gym occupying my thoughts. Every once in a while, tomorrow night’s date would sneak into my consciousness. I wanted to be respectful of Jude’s support with setting me up with someone. Just as important, I wanted to be physically and mentally present for the date, not daydreaming about what might happen with Gym Girl.

  “Hey, Bryson, can I see you in my office?” Rahl asked as he walked in the front door.

  “Yes, sir.” I followed him and closed the door to his office behind us.

  Rahl stood beside his desk. “Bryson, I have a time-sensitive contract coming in today. I’ll need you to do an overnight protection detail tomorrow night.”

  This was part of the job that I disliked. However, I understood the last-minute nature was often necessary. Avery might be disappointed, but if she were the right girl for me, she’d understand.

  “Ten-four, boss.” I gave a military nod to confirm.

  Rahl crossed his arms. “Out with it, Welch.”

  “What?” I straightened my spine as his gaze tightened on me.

  “What will you be missing by going on the overnight, Bryson? Remember my training, soldier.”

  Expert in body language and deception. Great.

  I relaxed my stance, no need to perjure myself. “Jude and Presley set me up with a girl. We have a double-date tomorrow night.”

  “You know her?” He rounded his desk and sat.

  “Only a first name of Avery. We’ve texted a little, but I can bow out. It’s not a big deal.”

  Rahl smirked. “Bryson, every woman is a big deal. If they aren’t, they aren’t the right one.” His facial expression never changed. “Avery, huh?”

  My training in watching people helped very little when it came to Rahl, but my back straightened, sensing a small waver in the tone of his voice. “Yeah. You know her?”

  “Maybe. I know an Avery but maybe it’s not the Avery.” He rocked back in his chair. “You’re relieved of your duty Friday night.”

  “Rahl, I can do it.”

  “No. Go on the date with Avery.” He searched the paperwork on his desk. My instinct told me the conversation was a done deal.

  “Thanks, Rahl.”

  “Good luck, Bryson. Big deals don’t come along very often. Figure out if this girl is the one, and if she is, don’t mess it up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Back at my desk, I decided my focus needed to be on Avery. Gym Girl was only that … a girl at the gym. What I knew about her was physical and not much else. She might have a boyfriend. She might be into girls. She might not be looking. She might be a psycho. A cute psycho.

  I texted Avery.

  Bryson: Hello. How’s your day?

  After finding the right file, I ordered some supplies for an upcoming security installation.

  My coworker, Breigh, rolled her chair across the aisle over to my cubicle. “Hey, Welch, you do any running last night?” She’d been trying to convince me to do a marathon with her since she’d started in May at Vendetti Security Inc.—or VSI as we’d started to call Rahl’s company.

  “Elliptical. Uncle Blake needs to expand or open a new place soon. All the treadmills were full.”

  “Yeah, I went on Tuesday and it was packed, but you know that’s the holiday crowd. It’ll be even busier after the first of the year, but by late January it thins out again.”

  “True. I’m still thinking about the marathon in the spring. I haven’t forgotten.”

  “You better not.” She scanned down the aisle. “Hey, Greenstein, what’s the sourpuss face for?”

  My roommate, Jake Greenstein, rounded the corner into my cubicle. “I get to do an overnight security detail in place of you on Friday?” He’d been on assignment this week and arrived back in town this morning.

  “Sorry. I have a date.”

  Breigh smiled. “Good for you, Welch. Jake, not every assignment can be undercover acting, you need to use those muscles occasionally. You’ll be fine.”

  “This girl gonna put out?” Jake asked.

  Breigh shook her head and snorted. “And that’s my cue to leave the conversation.” She rolled back into her cubicle.

  I lifted my phone. “Not really a question to ask through text. I’m fine if she doesn’t.”

  “Liar.” He leaned against the metal doorway.

  “Actually, there’s this redhead at Triple R that I’m interested in, but I’m trying to give this date a shot.”

  “Why go? If the date ends up liking you and you’re still thinking about the redhead … well, that’s messed up, bro.”

  As much as Jake could be a player and seemed to flit from girl to girl without much real interest, he had a point. Playing with Avery’s feelings wasn’t fair.

  My phone buzzed.

  Avery: Day is good. How about yours?

  I set the phone back down.

  “That her?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe things could work out with this one, too. What the hell do I know? I do know I get the rest of the afternoon off since I get to work for sixteen hours tomorrow.”

  “I’m not cancelling my date.”

  He pushed off of the cubicle wall. “Didn’t ask you to. Good luck, Bry.”

  I chin-jutted him away as I picked up my phone.

  Bryson: Going fast.

  Avery: 6pm @ J’s downtown?

  Bryson: Looking forward to it. Have a good day.

  Avery: :-)

  Great. The smiley face. Like that doesn’t make me feel like a heel for thinking of the redhead while I’m texting with you.

  Chapter Six

  Avery

  I spent all of last evening picking out the right outfit for tonight, then changing my mind this morning when what I’d chosen looked like an outfit from Gymboree that my nieces would wear. I still wasn’t sure what I would end up choosing as I left the apartment, but at least I made it to work on time.

  Presley sat next to me in the break room. “Are you excited for tonight?”

  I stopped eating my salad as my stomach did an impressive Cirque du Solei move. “Nervous is more like it.”

  “Jude’s a great conversationalist. He’ll talk your ear off and help you to get to know Bryson.”

  “Actually, I texted Bryson Tuesday night, and we asked each other questions, kind of get-to-know-you questions.”

  “That’s great! Then you’re going in knowing some things about him.”

  “A few. I did like what he had to say. Do you know what his last name is?”

  “I don’t. I’ll text Jude, but he has clients all day.” She typed into her phone, glancing up while she was sending. “I did get a little more out of Jude yesterday, though.”

  “Okay … spill.”

  “Bryson was in the military. He’s a little shorter than Jude, thinner, with blond hair. When I asked what color his eyes were, Jude walked away. He was at his limit of ‘what’s-the- guy-look-like’ questions.” She chuckled and added, “Actually, Jude was a little grouchy this morning. I think the wedding stuff may have finally gotten to him.” She drank from the bottle of water she’d pulled from the fridge.

  I giggled. “Maybe it was having to recite a guy’s measurements to you.”

  She rolled her eyes and stood. “I need to get back to work.” She stopped at the break room door and turned around. “You’re okay, right?”

  “Yeah, the butterflies are gone. Thanks.”

  “Maybe you’ll get the other kind of butterflies tonight?”

  “I’m not planning on falling in love, Presley. Just a nice date.”

  “Dream bigger, Avery. You deserve it.” The front desk staff called Presley to the showroom floor. “Okay, off to sell cars. See you tonight.”

  I thought of Mr. Eyelashes. He was blond, maybe about the same height as Jude and thinner, and he didn’t act lik
e he had a girlfriend. I wondered if he could be Bryson.

  Yeah, right. Since when do I ever luck out like that?

  I’d memorized his face when he was next to my car on Wednesday night. His blond hair with a touch of curl that was styled up in the front. His soft blue eyes that sparkled beneath the streetlights. Both gave him a boyish appearance. I thought he was going to touch me but for some reason he pulled back. What had scared me at that moment was that I really wanted him to touch me. Some part deep within me knew it would feel amazing to have his hand brushing on my skin, tickling and teasing the nerves to life.

  I smiled, replaying every moment of our brief interaction. When I came to one particular part of the vision, I sat straighter in the plastic chair. Picking up my phone, I scanned back through my messages to one with a picture. The photo of Bryson’s ear flashed on the screen.

  Bryson?

  A warmth I hadn’t ever felt grabbed a hold of my heart.

  It had to be him…

  ****

  Charlie, our general manager, started sending people home after three p.m. The meteorologists didn’t seem to know what they were actually hired to do, which was forecast the weather, but generally meant educated guessing, and like today, uneducated guessing.

  “Avery, it’s your turn. Get gone!” he called from his office.

  It was just after four, so I would have extra time to get ready for the date, after I figured out what I was wearing.

  I stopped by his office. “Thanks, Charlie.”

  “Drive carefully out there. You really should think about upgrading to a four-wheel drive.”

  “Charlie, you only say that so I’ll buy a new vehicle.”

  He chuckled. “No, I say that because I worry about you.”

  The roads collected a white tinge of the fluffy stuff. My economy car got great gas mileage, but getting around was iffy when there were more than a couple of inches of snow. I pulled out my phone. The weather app forecasted a dusting of snow to end in the next hour. I’d be fine.

  ****

  Finishing up with a quick spray of perfume, it was time to head downtown and the drive would take at least twice as long to get there. Anything less than perfect road conditions and Nebraskans freaked out. Winter weather, specifically, caused an Armageddon-level freakout.

  I grabbed my phone from the breakfast bar.

  Bryson: Weather not looking great tonight. I have a four-wheel drive Jeep. Would you like a ride downtown?

  Avery: Thanks, but I’m good to drive myself. See you there.

  I was heading out the door when my phone buzzed in my hand.

  Bryson: I’d really feel better if you let me drive you there.

  I snarled at the phone. He kind of sounded like Adam. I didn’t need two guys with a protective side in my life.

  Avery: Promise, I’m a very competent driver. Even in winter weather. I’ll see you downtown.

  Bryson: Travel safely.

  Maybe he grew up elsewhere and isn’t used to this weather?

  Avery: You, too.

  Traffic crawled as expected. The roads were a little slick but nothing that was out of the ordinary for a Nebraska winter.

  Typical overreaction.

  I finally made it downtown. The Old Market was one of my favorite areas in Omaha. Timeworn buildings with character that wasn’t found in newer parts of the city lined the streets. The stores ran the gamut of old and funky clothing and antiques, to new and shiny contemporary home design and fashion. The restaurants and bars were as varied in types and styles, too.

  With a tight budget for clothing, vintage stores always caught my eye. I stopped to stare in the storefront of my favorite. Last weekend, I discovered a few special pieces to add to my wardrobe, like the tan suede pencil skirt I’d decided to wear tonight. With my new tall brown leather boots, my outfit looked hip but classic. I went for a little romantic embellishment with a green silk shirt that had a lace insert that allowed for a hint of cleavage but was still relatively modest.

  Inside the restaurant, the hostess led me to our table. I chose the seat facing the front door.

  My phone buzzed in my purse.

  Presley: Jude came home really sick. I’m really sorry, but we aren’t going to make it. I can have him call Bryson and tell him not tonight.

  We’ll be alone? My hands chilled as I re-read the message.

  Avery: Poor Jude. Hope he feels better soon. I’ll be fine. I want to meet Bryson.

  Presley: Okay. Have fun! Hugs.

  I crossed my legs, then uncrossed them, and sat up straight, all while looking at my phone fifty times in five minutes. The amount of fidgeting I was doing was ridiculous. I was almost certain that Mr. Eyelashes/Mr. Injured Ear was also Bryson, but that knowledge almost made it worse.

  I jumped when my phone lit up.

  Bryson: Traffic is at a standstill on I-480. Prob ten more minutes.

  Avery: No problem. I’m here. Drive safely.

  Bryson: Thanks.

  I opened the picture of his ear again.

  Maybe I’d just imagined it

  Chapter Seven

  Bryson

  After texting with Avery, I rolled the window down to get some fresh air, and heavy snowflakes pelted my left coat sleeve. The standstill traffic made me consider taking the shoulder of the road, and if I was caught by police, feigning a life-threatening illness as an excuse.

  But I won’t.

  Even though a part of me was conflicted about the Gym Girl, I wanted to go on the date and make it count. Plus, Jude and Presley would be there, and I didn’t like the thought of disappointing them. Still, I kept playing Wednesday night over in my head. The fact I didn’t know the redhead’s name was my own fault.

  “Hi, my name’s Bryson,” I said out loud. “What’s your name?” I ran my hand through my hair. “That wasn’t hard, was it?”

  Talking to myself didn’t help my nerves either.

  I pulled into a parking spot. Late. Walking to the restaurant, I adjusted the collar of my coat to cover my neck. I stopped. A familiar red car was parked in front of the restaurant, and the license plate confirmed it was hers.

  She’s here?

  The restaurant greeter guided me around the corner toward the table, and my boots squeaked to a stop when I saw the red color that would forever be imprinted on my heart. She stared down at her phone, floating her fingers over something on the screen.

  I touched the hostess’s arm, and she stilled.

  “Is that our table?” I asked. The hostess nodded. “I’ll take it from here.”

  I pulled out my phone.

  Bryson: Are you Avery?

  She saw the text and her head cocked quizzically. When she brought her gaze up, I smiled. She nodded in confirmation.

  I wanted to remember this moment forever. The flash of a camera went off in my head as I mentally captured the memory. The night I found the girl who’d stolen my heart in my dreams.

  She glanced down and texted something. I skimmed the message on my buzzing phone.

  Avery: Hello, Bryson.

  My heart pounded in my ears. She was lovely, sincere, and sexy all rolled into one. And she had a real spirit behind the explosion of beautiful color on her head and a soft place in her heart for her family and friends, people who obviously wanted her to be happy. And Jude thought I was the guy who could make her happy and take care of her. That meant a lot to me.

  Never taking my eyes from hers, I crossed the room. She stood from her chair, and I stopped with only inches between us. The space still felt too far.

  She sighed. “I knew it was—”

  “Well, I guess your date didn’t stand you up after all?” The waiter’s semi-joking question broke our gaze.

  I scowled. “What did you say?” I held up my hand. “No, actually, don’t say anything. Unless it’s an apology.”

  Avery spun toward the waiter, and I moved my hand to her lower back. The feeling of her slick shirt against my palm had me swallowing back my
urges to guide her into me so I could feel her against me.

  To protect her and support her.

  The waiter shuffled a couple steps from us. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to offend you. Sir, I realize the weather is causing travel issues. My apologies for the tactless comment.”

  Avery’s voice glided through the air. “It’s okay, no harm done. Thank you.”

  My eyes met the waiter’s. “Thank you. I’ll stick with water. Please give us a few minutes.”

  He nodded and hustled away.

  “I’m sorry for being late.” I moved in front of Avery.

  “I’m hoping you’re worth the wait.” Her hands rested against my coat. One started a path up my chest and neck. I thought it was going to stop at my lips, but the delicate touch kept going until she traced along my misshapen ear. Her voice was cheerful. “I knew it was you, Bryson.”

  The touch of her warm, soft fingers floating against my winter-chilled skin heightened every sense of my body. I raised a hand from her waist and slid it behind her neck. The curls of her hair entwined in my fingers. I cleared my throat. “Does this seem unreal to you?”

  “I’m real, Bryson. I’m hoping you are, too.” Her hand came back down to rest against my chest.

  “Let’s have a seat and I’ll prove I am.”

  After a tender squeeze of my hand, I released her and pulled out her chair. She lowered onto the seat, and I inhaled the scent that surrounded her. She was a holiday treat for the eyes and nose. The other place setting was across the small table from her. I slipped off my coat and moved into the chair on her right, sliding the silverware closer to me.

  “No Jude and Presley?” I asked.

  “Jude’s sick.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Hope he’s okay,” I said. “Hope you’re okay with just me?”

  A pink shimmer colored her cheeks. “I’m more than okay with that.”

  The waiter returned, described the specials, and left with orders, now keeping his interaction the epitome of professional.

  I stared at Avery and she started to bite her lip. It was both sexy and innocent.