Page 82 of Enticed

“Easy buddy. Okay, let’s get in the truck,” I coax him to my vehicle, urging him to jump inside as I settle in my seat before sliding open the envelope. The handwriting etched on the paper immediately alerts me to who this is from.

Cooper,

Our auction date was the first day I allowed myself to imagine the idea of more with you. Lord knows I wanted to get you naked and lose myself in your touch. But seeing you as the man you are today helped me realize that you would not only be dangerous to my libido, but dangerous to my heart. Roark and you dug your way deep into my chest that day, and I’ll forever be grateful that the ugly green monster of jealousy whispered in my ear when I saw Misty Chambers try to win that date. I went with my gut during the auction, and that decision is one I will never regret. However, not all decisions made in the moment are good ones—like when I denied what was really going on between us. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to convey how sorry I am for hurting you. But I plan to show you any way I can. Roark is important to you and he’s important to me, so I wanted to show him some love too. Hopefully one day soon I can join the two of you again on your runs and throw a few balls to him like I did during our date at the park.

I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Always yours,

Clara

“Fuck,” I mutter as my head falls back against the seat and I close my eyes, traveling back to that day when I saw her walls finally start to crumble—the way her body moved as she ran, the smiles she gave me as we sat next to each other on the bench while Roark ran around, chasing after his ball and the other dogs, how nervous she was to be alone with me in a setting where I wasn’t picking her up from the bar or saving her life. We were just us, and that’s the thing I miss the most. Clara isn’t this cold woman that she showed me the other night—I’ve always known that. She has a heart that is bigger than she tends to let people realize, but it’s always been there. I’ve seen it in her friendship with my sister and the girls. I’ve seen it in how much she loves my parents like her own. And bless her heart—she’s trying to show me that now.

But again, it was never about how she showed me—it was that she couldn’t do it in front of those closest to us.

I toss the letter, leash, and balls in the front seat and make our way to the civic center for a long run where I can think about this entire situation some more—not like that’s what I haven’t been doing for a week now.

As my feet pound the pavement and Roark glides beside me, I can see her in front of me just as she was that day—me chasing her down—how fitting since that’s what I’ve felt like I’ve been doing this entire time, following behind her lead, remaining a constant presence she could grow to count on, but she never let me be there all the way, right by her side, like a team.

I want that, more than I want to breathe right now. I just wonder if Clara realizes what it will take to get there.

Two more days pass before I hear from Clara again. This time, I walk into the station and see a gift bag sitting on top of my desk—shimmering green material with white tissue paper peeking out of the top.

“Is it your birthday or something?” Cash comes up next to me, knocking his elbow against my arm.

“You know it’s not. It must be from Clara,” I run my hands through my hair as I plop down in my chair and reach for the gift.

“Open it! Open it!” Cash exclaims while clapping his hands together frantically like a hyper little girl.

“Knock it the fuck off, man,” I scold while removing the tissue paper and glancing inside. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I shake my head and laugh as I pull out a white wicker basket with plastic pink flowers on the front.

“What the actual fuck?” Cash’s entire demeanor changes, his face scrunched up in obvious confusion.

“It’s a basket for my bike.”

“Uh, why the fuck is Clara giving you a basket for your bike? Let alone, one that looks like it belongs on the bike of a seven-year-old girl?”

The laughter I’ve been holding in releases as I throw my head back in my chair and run both hands through my hair this time. When I compose myself, I sit up and tell Cash about the night I surprised Clara by riding my bike to her house with Ben & Jerry’s.

“Fuck, the woman is good,” he chuckles. “So are you gonna use it? I think you’d look so pretty riding around town with a few Barbies in here,” he jokes while holding the basket in front of my face.

“Yeah, yeah… we’ll see. I wonder if she left a note?” I peer inside the bag, locating yet another folded piece of paper, ignoring Cash as I open it up and read.

Cooper,

This gift was more of a necessity than anything else—because you see, I know you need this basket to carry all sorts of items while you ride across town to my place. But guess what? I bought one for myself too, so we match. Because I want to ride across town to surprise you too—AND I want us to ride around together one day, stuffing our baskets full of all of our favorite things. You never fail to surprise me—and that night, you showed me how much you wanted me by doing something spontaneous and clever. I want to do those things for you too—hence the gifts and notes. I haven’t heard anything from you regarding your gifts, so I’m not sure how you’re processing things. I wish you would talk to me, let me know if I’m getting any closer to your forgiveness. But I understand how angry you must be with me too. Just know, I won’t stop showing you how much you mean to me. And hopefully one day, we can adorn our bikes with our matching baskets and ride side-by-side without a care in the world. I want that Cooper. I want you.

Always yours,

Clara

“What did she say?” Cash leans forward to try to catch a glimpse of the letter, but I snatch it away just in time.

“It’s private,” I growl as I fold it up and place it deep in my pocket.

“So, are you gonna let her off the hook yet?”

I take a deep breath and then let it out in a huff. “I want to, but she’s missing the point. All she’s doing is buying me presents and telling me how much she wants me and misses me in writing. I always knew this is how she’s felt. But it’s everyone else that doesn’t know that…”

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