Page 4 of Where the Roses Bloom
I stood up, wiped my hands on my jeans, and walked back inside the house. I took my time as I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee…then a second one, just in case.
The car was still there when I came back out.
So I went to investigate.
The road was quiet as always, just the wind stirring through the trees and the faint sound of cicadas singing in the grass. I saw the bumper sticker first—yeah, some hippie shit in all caps:COME AT ME WITH KINDNESS, BRO.The windows of the Bug were blocked by blankets, the hood of the car warm from the sun, but not from the engine. I got the impression it had been turned off for a while, and I had this horrible, paranoid thought that maybe I was about to find a body.
I knocked softly on the window.
No answer.
But the window was cracked open at the top, so I peered inside…and nearly stumbled back.
She was gorgeous.
It was like I’d found Sleeping Beauty and she needed to be kissed awake…not that I would do that, because that would have been fuckin’ crazy. Instead, I raised my voice and knocked again, stepping back to give her space.
“Ma’am?” I said. “You okay?”
She stirred, eyes fluttering open. The blanket pulled away from the window and then she was blinking at me through the glass—brown eyes wide, disoriented. It was like she wasn’t sure what year it was or where she’d landed.
“Who are you?” she asked.
I gave her a wry smile. “Uh…the man whose land you parked on last night?” I said, then gestured up toward the house. “I live right up that driveway.”
She blinked a few more times, then ran a hand over her face like she could wipe the sleep and regret clean off her skin. Her braid was falling out over one shoulder, dark hair sticking up around her crown, and there were pillow creases on her cheek.
She looked exhausted. Flushed.
Pretty in a kind of ruined way I couldn’t stop looking at.
“Shit,” she muttered, wincing. “Sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t know this was a driveway, I thought it was a street…”
“It’s alright,” I said. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just figured I ought to check. This road don’t get much traffic, and your car’s been sittin’ here a while.”
She sat up straighter, tugging the blanket tighter around her body like armor. Her gaze dropped to the cup in my hand.
“Is that coffee?”
“It is.” I held it out. “Want it?”
She frowned.
“It’s not spiked or anything, right?”
I impulsively took a sip to show her it was harmless, then I shrugged. “Tastes just fine to me. Hope you don’t mind creamer.”
She hesitated, then cracked the door and took it from me with both hands. Our fingers didn’t touch, but it felt close enough.
There was just something about her…I wanted to know it all.
“Thanks,” she said, then brought it to her lips. I watched her breathe it in first, like it was a ritual.
“Ranout of gas?” I guessed.
She shook her head. “I actually…I don’t know. I think the car might just be dead. She’s been on her last legs for a while.”
I hummed. “My brother has an auto shop right up the road. Could get you a tow, make sure everything’s good to go.”
