Cards of Love: Knight of Swords

The pretty creature sat still long enough for me to take two pictures. One close-up of him on her hand and one of her staring down at him.

Then the breeze picked up again and he floated away.

“Wow. That’s never happened to me before. I used to pick daisies with my mom when I was little.” Her face fell. “They’re my favorite. My mom wore them in her hair on her wedding day. I always wanted to—”

“What?”

She blushed and looked away. “Nothing.”

“What?”

The pink on her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears and down her neck. I think I knew what she was going to say. I even guessed why she was hesitant to tell me. But I wanted to hear the words from her mouth.

“If I ever get married,” she twirled a few locks of hair around, “I want to wear them too.”

I stepped closer and bent down, touching my nose to her. “What do you mean if?”

“I don’t know. If.”

“Juliet, the day I met you, I knew I was gonna marry you.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

My fingers grazed her chin, tipping her head back. I swallowed hard. “I need some time to get my life sorted. Graduate. Find a job so I can take care of you the way you deserve. But yeah, then we’re getting married.”

She placed her hand on her hip and tilted her head. “That sounds more like a statement than a question.”

“I’m not ready to ask you yet.”

She went up on tiptoes and slipped an arm around my neck, threading her fingers into my hair. “You don’t need to take care of me. We’ll take care of each other.”

I didn’t have a chance to respond, because she leaned in and kissed me. Slow and soft.

That sweet kiss saved me, because I had no words.

“Where are we going to live?” she whispered when she backed away.

“Near wherever you’re going to college, I guess.”

“You’re not going to college?”

I snorted. “Not likely.”

“Your grades are even better than mine. You should. If you could go anywhere and do anything, what would you want to do?”

“Something outdoors maybe. Or a pilot.”

“You don’t like being caged in.”

“Nope. Hate it. Hate not having any damn control over my life.”

She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her cheek to my chest, squeezing me tight. “We will one day, Roman. I promise.”

Christ, I couldn’t breathe. I liked the sound of we. I’d never been part of a we before. I slipped my arms around her and hugged her back. “I like cars. Fixing them and stuff.”

She gave me a curious look.

“One of the foster families I lived with when I was younger. They owned a garage and ran it together. I used to go there after school and hang out until closing.”

“That must have been fun.”

Fun isn’t quite the right word. “They expected me to work. For free. To earn my keep. I guess what the state paid them wasn’t enough.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. The husband was cool. He taught me how to do the easier stuff. Oil changes. Tire rotations. That kept me busy. But I’d also help him on the bigger jobs so I could learn.”

“That was smart.”

“I guess.” I glanced down at my hands, turning them over. “I liked solving problems. Fixing stuff that was broken.”

“I bet you were good at it.” She squeezed my arm. “You fixed me.”

“You’re not broken.”

Her gaze skipped away from mine, sparking a desire to seek and destroy anyone who made her feel that way.

“Everyone’s a little broken, don’t you think? Around you, I feel whole.”

The relief of finally putting my finger on what that feeling was whenever I was with her crashed over me with the force of a ten-foot wave. “I feel the same way.”

She took my hand and we started walking. More than any other day I didn’t want to say goodbye to her.

As if she’d heard my thought she pointed at an old, Victorian house on the edge of the park. It was pink, yellow, and white. Gaudy as hell, but somehow still pretty. “I wish we lived there. You and me.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded and bounced on her toes as she walked, dragging me along faster. “The park would be our backyard and it would be close to school, so when it snowed we wouldn’t have to ride the bus.”

“You mean right now?”

“Right now,” she confirmed. Her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink again. “I’d like to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up with you every morning.”

I stopped, dropping our bags on the ground with a thud. I yanked her against me. “I think of you every night when I go to bed, wishing you were next to me.”

She smiled up at me. “I do the same.”

My hands slid down to her waist. It didn’t matter that we were in a public park in the middle of the afternoon. I wanted to strip her down and finish what we started in the photo lab.

“Roman?” she whispered. “We need to get going.”

Damn, she was right. I grazed her cheek with my knuckles and gave her one last kiss. “You’ve given me a lot of memories to replay when I fall asleep tonight.” I’d also probably have to get up and rub one out a few times, but I couldn’t say that to her. My hands ached to cup her breasts again. To touch her without anything in between us.

“Juliet, was that okay before? Are you okay?”

“God, yes.” She lowered her voice. “That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

I brought my lips to her ear. “Don’t you ever touch yourself?”

She gasped and shook her head slightly.

Great, so I guess I was the pervert in this relationship.

I kissed her cheek and along her jaw. “I’d make you feel like that every night, Juliet.” My gaze dropped to the V of her dress. Just low enough to give a glimpse of the creamy swell of her breasts and the valley between. “I’d kiss you everywhere.”

She shivered and closed her eyes.

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m hot all over.”

I inhaled a long, deep breath, savoring her scent mixed with the sweet spring air. “So am I.”

Finally, I found the strength to keep going. In front of her house, I kissed her cheek one last time before jogging down the street.

Not toward home. No, that day I felt like I was running away from home.

Nineteen

Juliet

I watched Roman sprint down the street, praying he made it the home in time. It was almost impossible to swallow over the lump in my throat. I hated it when he left.

My uncle’s truck pulled into the driveway and a knot of fear pulled my stomach tight.

“You messing around with that boy again?” he called out.

Mortification heated my cheeks. The whole neighborhood didn’t need to know the details of my life.

“We’re not messing around. He’s my friend.”

His eyes roamed over my dress, making me wish I hadn’t left my sweater cardigan in my locker.

“I heard he lives in that group home. I want you to stay away from him. And don’t you dare be letting him in my house.”

The knot in my belly twisted. Why was he checking up on Roman? How? When? “I don’t let any of my friends in the house.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

I wanted to run back to school. Or run after Roman. Or run away with Roman.

Unwilling to be alone in the house with my uncle, I puttered around outside until my aunt pulled up. “What are you doing, Juliet?”

I gestured toward the flowerbeds I’d been absently weeding. “Thought I’d get a head start.”

She eyed my dress and grimy hands. “You should’ve changed first.”

“Oh.” I glanced down and a thin laugh escaped me. “I guess so.”

“This is why I don’t like to waste money on clothes for you, Juliet.”