"I always thought it was kind of a silly name," she replies, pulling a face. "I mean, why not go with Summer? That’s the best time of year, isn’t it?"
"Not to me," I reply. "Spring all the way. New life, new starts..."
"I guess you have a point," she agrees, and she smiles at me. Fuck, her smile is gorgeous – is she flirting with me, or does she just look that hot by accident? I turn my attention back down to the flower on her wrist. This is all going way too fast. I could slow it down, but I know that she probably has other shit to do today, doesn’t want to spend all of it sitting in a chair waiting for me to finish up what should be a quick piece.
"I sure do," I reply, and she laughs.
"Cocky, huh?”
"Only when I’m right," I reply.
She giggles. I like the sound of her laugh. That’s something that a guy could get used to, if he wasn’t careful, and I’m feeling the direct opposite of careful right now.
This tulip? It’s like a sign. I’ve always been too sentimental for my own good, but there’s no way that I can deny the intensity of this coincidence. I know that this means something. A woman like her, with a smile like that, coming in and asking for a tulip the same morning that I saw all of mine bloom in my yard?
Yeah, no way I’m going to let that slide. When you know, you fucking know.
It doesn’t take long before I’m finished, and I reach over for some plastic wrap to cover her arm. Her wrist and her fingers are so delicate, and when I touch her, I move as carefully as possible. I don’t want to break her. She’s too precious for that.
"I love it," she murmurs, looking down at the picture on her arm. I’m not the biggest believer in my work, but this is one of my favorite pieces. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve got the best possible canvas to show it off on. I lean forward to seal the plastic around her wrist, tucking it in to make sure that the ink’s not going to run, and I notice that her nipples are pressing against the fabric of her sundress.
I try not to stare, but it’s hard when all I want to do is tease the fabric lower, lean down and take them into my mouth, hear her little gasp of desire when she feels my teeth on them.
"It’s perfect, really," she remarks, and I don’t pull away quite yet. We are so close to each other that I could have just shifted forward and planted my mouth against hers. Her eyes flick to mine, and it’s almost as though she is daring me to do it.
"So are you," I reply, before I can think about what I am saying to her. Her eyes widen.
"What?" she whispers, as though she thinks I might be making a joke at her expense.
"You’re perfect," I tell her, and I mean it. She stares at me. I am not going to pass up this chance. I know that a girl like this won’t be going out of her way to walk back in here anytime soon, and there isn’t a chance in hell I’m going to miss out on her.
"Come out with me," I continue.
"With you?” she gasps. My hand is still on her wrist – I trace my fingers over her arm, and I can see the way that she shivers at my touch. She might not be willing to admit it, but she feels everything that is happening between us just the same way that I do.
"Midnight Oil," I reply. "Tonight. I’m taking you out."
"I’ve never been there before," she protests, but there is a small smile spreading out over her face and I know that she is not going to turn me down.
"I know," I reply. "Because I’d remember if you had been."
She laughs again, her eyes shining with excitement, and then, finally, she nods.
"Okay, you got me," she giggles. "It’s a date?”
"It’s a date," I reply, and I lean back in my seat. And I know that whatever happens tonight, I'm not going to forget it anytime soon.
4
Spring
I check myself out in the full-length mirror of my bedroom, twisting this way and that, and offer myself a smile. Yeah, I think I look pretty damn good, actually. Good enough to get away with spending a night with a man as hot as Shotgun, that’s for sure.
Shotgun. That’s really his name. I have to stifle a grin as I think about how much it suits him. He’s straight to the point, honest, blunt. It’s what I like about him. Well, that, and the fact that he’s about as far removed as possible from anyone else I’ve ever met before in my life.