It Started With a Kiss (Insta-Spark)

Tonight, I would be officially introducing Beth and Ryan to Daniel. I was nervous and excited—much the way I felt when I met his parents. I wanted them to like him; although if they didn’t, it wouldn’t stop me from seeing him. Beth was right; I was already in love with him. Even my mother commented on how cheerful I had been the last two calls. While I had admitted to meeting someone, I kept it fairly low-key. My much older parents were very protective, and they would be horrified to know how deeply I already felt for Daniel. It was a conversation best left for their next visit, which would be in the fall. Of course, if Daniel had his way, I’d already be living with him by then.

My phone rang with Daniel’s ring tone and I picked it up. “Hey.”

His voice was weary. “Hey. I’m going to be late. I have a last minute emergency.”

“No problem. I’ll let Beth know. Want to just meet there?”

“Why don’t you drive out and bring your stuff, then we can go in together. That way you aren’t driving in the dark.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at his protectiveness, but I failed. I knew he did it because he cared.

“Sure. I can leave now.”

“You have your key?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home.”

I hung up, thinking about what he said. His place did feel like home. I wondered how much longer I would resist the lure of his house, bed, and constant company. Probably not much longer.

We pulled up in front of the restaurant. It was later than anticipated, but Beth was insistent they were still fine, and Daniel wanted to go. He was quiet, the weariness etched on his face, and I knew without asking he had lost another patient. I let him collect his thoughts, while I hung on for dear life as he barreled toward the city.

He shut off the motor and glanced my way, a frown on his face.

“You can let go of the handle, Sprite. We’ve arrived, perfectly safe.”

I pivoted in my seat. “That was your shortcut?”

“Yes.”

“You drove like Mario Andretti!”

He tried to suppress his laughter, failing badly. “I was barely going over the speed limit. It seemed fast because we didn’t have to slow down, and there were no other cars around, that’s all.”

I shook my head. “No, you were going way too fast.”

“I realize, to someone like you, it seemed fast, but I assure you, it wasn’t.”

I didn’t like his tone. It was almost patronizing. “Someone like me?”

He got out of the truck, came around to my side of the vehicle, and opened my door, extending his hand.

I ignored it and scrambled down from the truck on my own. I had to admit, it was a lot easier when I let him lift me down, but I was trying to make a point.

I glared up at him. “Someone like me?” I repeated, crossing my arms. “You mean a woman?”

He mimicked my actions. “A ninety-year old woman, named Gladys, yes.”

Gladys?

“I do not drive like a ninety-year old woman.”

“Avery, you do.”

“I’m a cautious driver, unlike you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I am cautious. Your driving is far more dangerous than mine. Don’t even get me started about the way you handle reverse.”