Page 59 of Love, Rekindled

I move closer. “You look beautiful, Gretch. Beautiful.”

Her smile makes my heart beat faster. “Really? Are you sure? I haven’t really heard...it’s just...”

It’s as if that’s the first time anyone’s ever told her how gorgeous she is. How the fuck did this guy ever let her go?

He’s a fool, that’s how.

“Thank you.” Her hand rests on my forearm. “You look really good too.”

“Let’s head out,” I say before I press her against the door and kiss her until she can’t breathe.

We make our way to the car and she whistles. “Wow.”

I’m a car guy. I love taking something old and making it look new. Liam and I work on our cars every weekend. My baby, Betty, is everything. Betty is a 1970 Dodge Challenger convertible. It’s a metallic purple with a black roof.

Gretchen walks over, her fingertips graze the paint and I have to remember not to act like an idiot. This is a date. I have to not be ridiculous about my car.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Betty, this is Gretchen.”

“Oh, God!” Gretchen slaps her hand to her head. “You too? Jesus. I know Liam is a little insane about his car...Robert? Roberta?”

“Robin,” I correct her.

“Right. So you’re like that too? Seriously? You’re how old and you’re introducing me to your car?”

I shrug. “You’re about to go inside her. I wanted you both acquainted.”

Her jaw falls slack. “In case, what? In case she wants to kick me out?”

If she did, I would take Betty’s side, but I don’t say that. Since I would sound ridiculous.

“You never know.”

Gretchen shakes her head like she can’t believe this conversation.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re the first girl to ever ride in her.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Gretchen steps close to me, her hip resting on Betty. “Why is that?”

Because you’re the only girl I’ve ever given a fuck about.

Because you’re the only girl I’ve ever thought about.

Because I fucking dreamed that one day this could be reality.

Instead of spouting shit and looking ridiculous, I tell her the truth. “Because no one else was worthy.”

I pull the passenger door open, and she grins. “Good answer.”

“Get in, babe. We’ve got a date to go on.”

I close the door and walk around the back. This date is for her, not me. I tell myself that a few more times as I make my way to the driver’s seat. I want to show her what it should be like because she never should’ve had to wonder.

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