Ribbons of Love

by Jules Dixon

  “Like hide-and-seek?”

  “We’re just waiting to be found.”

  “I love playing hide-and-seek with my nieces. The youngest hides under a blanket thinking we can’t see her.”

  I helped her over the console into the backseat. “How old is she?”

  “Sabrina is three. Sahara’s five.”

  “Sound like fun ages.”

  Avery settled in and I followed. Almost kneeing myself in the face, I crashed in a crumpled heap into the backseat. She laughed at my bumbling moves, and the sound was better than any Christmas song ever created.

  “Nice moves, Mr. Welch.”

  “Glad to be the evening’s entertainment, Miss Knicely.”

  Reaching into the trunk area for the fleece blanket, I handed it to Avery, then tagged the first aid kit. I did the best I could with what I had, but every time she winced in pain, I wished I were the one with the injury.

  I put the kit away and grabbed two bottles of water from my gym bag.

  “Water.”

  She squirmed and her eyebrows shot up. “I already have to pee just thinking how I can’t pee. So, no, but thanks.”

  I groaned. “Now I have to pee, too.”

  We laughed together.

  Facing each other, we spread the blanket across both our laps, holding hands beneath it. The conversation stayed light. Every time her eyes started to search the vehicle’s cabin, I’d bring her back with a new topic of travel or her family.

  She yawned a couple of times, and although sleeping with a concussion wasn’t the greatest idea, it was past midnight and forcing her to remain awake wasn’t going to help her anxiety. I would stay alert for any medical issues.

  “Sleepy?” I asked as I moved more toward the middle of the bench seat.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Nah, I’m good. Here.” I slid her against me and she moved her legs to rest over my lap. I wrapped the blanket around us. “Rescue shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  “Thank you for tonight. Really, it was wonderful,” she said through a yawn.

  “Minus the accident and full bladder?”

  “You had to remind me.” Her hand unbuttoned my coat and found its way inside to lie against my chest.

  “Get some sleep.” I kissed her forehead and rubbed her back.

  In minutes, she breathed deeply. Leaning my head against the headrest, I replayed the week’s interesting events to stay awake. A couple of hours later, I checked her to ensure any possible concussion wasn’t worsening. She repeated her cell phone code as asked. Before she fell back to sleep, she wound her arm around my waist, guiding our bodies together like two snowflakes melting into each other.

  A while later her body rocked with a long and deep shiver. I lifted her onto my lap to share more body heat. Her skirt wasn’t meant for these conditions. She wiggled her round butt into a comfortable spot on my lap, and with some heavy concentration, I struggled to remain lifeless below the belt.

  I dipped my face onto the top of her head and inhaled the sweetness of sugar cookies and the warm spice of cinnamon. Caressing her back, she nuzzled into me. I started to nod off to her delicate noises of sleep when she moved on my lap. Before I opened my eyes, her hands cupped my face and guided my head to meet hers. A deep rumble of appreciation shook my chest as her velvet lips touched to mine.

  Avery scrambled from my lap. I opened my eyes to watch her adjusting her skirt up, her red lace underwear peeking out. I grabbed her waist and she straddled my lap to face me. I cocooned the blanket around our bodies as she trailed soft, innocent kisses all over my face, but once her lips joined mine, we traded a sentiment that grew stronger by the second. Every inch of her pressed against me, needing to be closer and closer. Her attention was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Her innocence and softness transformed into heat and fire embracing me inside and out.

  I kissed the delicate lines of her neck and back up to her lips. The cabin of the Jeep filled with her deep moans and slow sighs. Her enthusiasm made my heart pump faster. Every release of pleasure from her made me want to hear another, and I craved the next sound before the last had ended.

  I wanted more of her. Needed more. Whatever she was willing to share with me, I would consider a true gift.

  Her nails scraped my scalp, finishing the chain reaction of hardness below the belt. Her lips dragged along my cheek to my ear and her plump tongue flicked my earlobe until I moaned and my hips bucked against hers. Every inch of me was hard. Her hips thrust forward. I grasped them as she ground down my length, releasing an appreciative moan. Her damp heat seared through the few layers of soft fabric between us.

  “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

  Her lips skimmed against my ear and she whispered, “When it comes to you, I don’t know if I can stop myself from wanting everything. I feel almost too much when I’m with you.”

  “God, you are so fucking sweet and honest.”

  “I want you, Bryson.”

  I laid her on the seat and unzipped her coat. In one smooth motion I lifted her shirt and bra and lowered my head, sucking her peaked nipple into my mouth. Her fingers dug into my neck as she gasped my name in time to the circling of my tongue. The way she called out my name over and over had me on the edge of exploding without even being inside of her. The more attention I gave her, the louder she moaned. I glided my lips across to her other soft breast. She released sounds that were as if she had never been touched before, and everything I did was what she needed.

  Her moans stopped, and she panted out, “Bryson, I need to tell you something.”

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “Nebraska State Patrol. Anyone in there?”

  Every muscle of her body stiffened.

  I brought my head up and whispered, “He can’t see us down here through the fogged glass.”

  She grinned as her nails scraped the skin on my neck.

  I groaned into her chest before calling out, “Yes, officer, there are two of us. Female, twenty-one, needs medical attention for a laceration on her forehead, three centimeters long, one to two millimeters deep.” I glanced at my watch. “Six hours time from impact of airbag and a possible mild concussion.” I brushed my nose along hers. “We’ve been found. Game over … for now.”

  Avery giggled. I helped her to adjust her bra and shirt before we both sat up and she fixed her skirt. I concentrated on deep breathing to bring what was a steel pole back to a flaccid state.

  “Can you open the tailgate and we’ll climb out that way? The doors aren’t working from the impact,” I relayed to the officer.

  The latch disengaged and a face peered cautiously inside. “You folks okay?”

  Avery blushed and her eyes fluttered to me. “I’m doing just fine, officer.”

  I guided her back to me for a gentle kiss.

  The officer chuckled. “Let’s go, kids. Miss, there’s an ambulance up the hill waiting for you.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” She climbed over the seat and out the back of the Jeep.

  The officer lifted her bandage. “It’s necessary.”

  “Fine,” she huffed.

  The return of her spunky attitude made me smile. I grabbed her belongings before climbing through the back of the Jeep. After taking one last look at what I figured was unfixable, I made my way through the knee-deep snow. Buying a new vehicle hadn’t been on my Christmas wish list. But neither had been finding a girlfriend.

  Maybe sometimes a wish is granted before we know to ask…

  Chapter Ten

  Avery

  The paramedics said I should get a couple of stitches if I didn’t want a scar. Scars were a part of life, so I disregarded the suggestion. If I had a concussion, the two EMTs agreed it was mild and with rest I would be fine.

  Something I already knew.

  While the EMTs were finishing paperwork, I called Adam for a ride home. When he started a tirade about safety and knowing the road conditions, I hung up on him. Then he texte
d he would pick me up in fifteen minutes. I texted back a simple “thank you” and let it go. Adam was the least of my concerns.

  My time with Bryson was coming to an end, which concerned me on a level that rivaled the frantic gyrating lights on the ambulance.

  “Do you need a ride to your place?” I asked him as the ambulance drove away.

  “No, the officer let me borrow his phone. I have a ride on the way.”

  We sat in the back of the patrol car and the officer talked about hundreds of accidents that had happened overnight. In minutes, a silver truck pulled up behind us and Bryson followed me from the car.

  Adam rolled down a window. “Come on, sis. Let’s go! Now!”

  I held up a finger—not the one I thought about giving him—the one indicating I needed a little time. “Just a minute, Adam, please.”

  He snorted and mumbled something as the truck window closed.

  “I’d introduce you to him, but he’s upset about all of this and clearly not rational. He’s not a bad guy, just protective and opinionated. Not what either of us needs right now.”

  Bryson chuckled. “You’re the baby, right?”

  “And my brothers still treat me like one. Adam’s the oldest. Alex is the middle one and he’s funny and sensitive. My youngest brother, Aidan, is the supportive one.”

  “Sound like good guys who have your back.”

  “Most of the time. Sometimes they treat me like I’m still that little girl with red pigtails running around the farm chasing chickens.”

  He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around me. “That makes for quite the vision.”

  I glanced up through my eyelashes. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “I’d like to take care of you again, Avery.”

  “I’d like that, too. Call me?”

  “I will.” He placed a soft kiss on my cheek, and I returned the sentiment with a lingering kiss on his lips. We shared a long hug before he backed away.

  I climbed into my brother’s truck, taking one last look out the back window before Adam headed toward downtown to get my vehicle.

  “Pretty sure my friend’s son would’ve walked to the nearest gas station for help even if his toes were falling off and his body was ready to collapse. There’s no good reason to keep a young woman captive in his vehicle.”

  I ignored his ridiculous comments.

  He continued, “Plus, any man who doesn’t introduce himself to the brother isn’t a man at all.”

  Too far, bro.

  “He’s a great guy.” I happened to know and feel how what an impressive man he was—inside and outside.

  Every inch of him … impressive.

  “How would you know what makes a guy great? How many boyfriends have you had, Avery?”

  I turned toward the window. “I just know, and my dating history is none of your business, Adam.” In truth, my dating life had been sparse. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to date. I just wasn’t ready. My high school years in a small town north of Omaha were about getting great grades and having fun in activities, not finding the right guy. Plus, the right guy almost never existed in high school, and I didn’t want to waste my time with less. After high school, I spent time finding the right job, flitting from temporary position to temporary position, until Jessen Auto where I found something I really liked doing.

  But of course, Adam had to have the last word. “I know that type of guy. Smooth as glass. Avery, when he gets what he wants, he’ll shatter your world and cut you deep.”

  I closed my eyes for the rest of the ride, my head pounding worse from him than the cut or concussion.

  Adam parked near my car. Even though he told me to stay put in the truck, I got out and helped him to dig out my car. Those gloves would be nice right now.

  After more brotherly proclamations about my current behavior and choices, Adam drove away. I sat in my car for a few minutes to let it warm up … and for me to thaw out. I was always amazed when the city bounced back like almost a foot of snow happened every day. I pulled out my phone and texted Bryson, praying he would get a phone replacement today.

  Avery: Thank you again for keeping me safe last night, and keeping me calm. If your Jeep isn’t fixable and you need a referral, I’d highly suggest Presley Bradenhurst (soon to be Saylor) at Jessen Auto :-) Hoping to talk to you soon.

  There was something about him that had my heart tripping through my thoughts. Going slow wasn’t going to happen. The attraction to him was worth taking a leap of faith into the unknown—the unfamiliar territory of relationships, which I’d never experienced. I hoped that my inexperience wouldn’t be a detriment. I had a good feeling it wouldn’t.

  I drove off and was soon rolling down the interstate, nearing where we’d spent the night in each other’s arms. There, in our spot, a small black sedan was pulled off the side of the road, and a blonde woman had her arms snaked around Bryson, giving him an affectionate hug. I slowed as I drove by. My heart clenched, sending a spasm of panic through my chest. She wasn’t just pretty. The girl was stunning. Her long hair peeked out from a multicolored winter hat and matching gloves, and an expensive long leather coat skimmed her svelte figure. She was everything I wasn’t—chic, gorgeous, slender.

  And with him.

  I watched in the rearview mirror as he climbed into the driver’s seat of her car, as if he had done it numerous times.

  Maybe Adam is right? Glass can cut.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bryson

  I spent the day working with insurance adjusters and standing in line to get a new phone. Having to buy a new vehicle and new phone in the same month was a little much to take. I walked out of the phone store and pulled up Avery’s name from my contacts.

  Bryson: Got new phone. I’ll be visiting Jessen this week. Jeep is totaled. Would like to see you again soon.

  After staying awake all night and most of Saturday, I crashed early and didn’t wake until Sunday. I worked out at Triple R that morning, then called Avery.

  Her voice mail kicked over, and I was torn between leaving a message and giving her space.

  “Hey, Avery. I hope I have the right phone number. You never know when they do that contact and data transfer. If you get this, can you text or call me please? Maybe we can get together tonight?”

  Back home and after a long shower, which included a self-reconnaissance mission to the memory of how she and I fogged up the windows in my vehicle, I sat on the couch and watched a Die Hard movie marathon with my roommate, Jake.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket.

  Nothing.

  I texted her again.

  Bryson: Hope everything’s okay and your concussion isn’t worse than the EMTs thought. Want to get something to eat after our training at Triple R tomorrow night?

  Another movie in the series was starting.

  “Jake, if you have great chemistry with a girl but she blows you off by text and calls, even though she asked you to call her, do you keep calling her?”

  The ex-Marine laughed. “Dude, do I look like I have answers when it comes to women? You’re two steps ahead of me for even going on a date. Maybe she was looking for less than you thought?

  “Maybe.”

  Jake glanced over at me. “It happens.”

  “Guess who the girl turned out to be last night?”

  “Who?”

  “The girl from the gym.”

  “The redhead?”

  “Yeah, apparently Jude knew who I was talking about when I asked for a setup.”

  “No shit. You guys get it on to stay warm in the Jeep last night?”

  “No.”

  “Would’ve been a good line.” He took a long swig of his beer.

  Maybe for an asshole.

  I propped another pillow under my head on the couch. “Do you think girls think about sex as much as we do?”

  “How much do you think about sex?”

  “Well, considering it’s been eighty-seven days, three hours, an
d…” I checked my watch, “Twenty-one minutes, I’d say I think about it a lot.”

  Jake laughed. “Girlfriend or hookup?”

  “Quinn.” I took a drink of my beer.

  “I never understood what happened with her?”

  “She wanted what I couldn’t give her.”

  Jake seemed genuinely interested. Our normal conversations were mostly on video games and what beer to drink, so this was new. “What did she want?”

  “Not me. Just stuff. Lots of stuff.”

  Jake lounged in his recliner. “Don’t get me wrong, Rahl’s a great boss and we work for a great company, but the pay will never make us rich. I always wonder if I should have gone to college instead of the military, been a doctor or lawyer … or stripper.”

  “Those people have problems, too. Like debt from school or the need to have the right connections to impress someone to get the right job at the right company. I don’t think they actually enjoy what they do.”

  “Yeah, I like what I do. There’s something to be said for that. And the people we work with are pretty cool, too.”

  I turned the channel, but muted the volume. “But, Jake, in the case of the stripper, I imagine, a nasty case of glitter rash might be the worst of their worries.”

  Jake laughed. “Probably. And I really hate glitter.”

  There was a long silence before Jake cleared his throat. “But to answer your question, dude, I think about sex a lot. When Breigh walks into my cubicle, I have to stare at my computer screen. Otherwise my pants have a special present that takes an hour to talk down.”

  “Rahl would kick your ass if you even thought of trying something.”

  “And I won’t. She’s hotter than Nebraska in July but not my type.”

  “What’s your type?” He really hadn’t brought anyone home, so I had no idea.

  “Spirited, unusual, in a league of her own, a queen among princesses.”

  “Wow, dude, good luck finding that.”

  “I thought I had,” he mumbled.

  I started to ask him what that meant when my phone buzzed. I grumbled, “Emerson.”