Page 62 of Unleashed

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the car, lifting my dress. Before I could react, Michael reached over, pulling it down with a quick, casual movement. “Thank you,” I said, cheeks flushing. “I would’ve thought you wanted to see what was under there.”

“If I did, I would’ve taken you last night,” he said, his voice low. “I’d rather you offer.”

“Maybe one day I will.” I flashed him a teasing smile as I stared out the window, the trees blurring past.

He chuckled, slipping his sunglasses off the visor and onto his face. As he fiddled with the radio, he settled on a classic rock station.

“Do you like this?” he asked, his hand lightly tapping the steering wheel.

I listened for a moment, recognizing the song. “Yeah, I like classic rock.”

“Do you know who this is?”

I grinned. “The Who?”

Michael chuckled. “That’s right.Eminence Front.One of my favorites.”

I nodded, my mind still buzzing with everything that had been left unsaid. The road stretched ahead of us, but my thoughts lingered somewhere between the tension and the possibilities of what might come next.

The GPS beeped, announcing that we were approaching the exit for Shady Grove Assisted Living Community. Michael flicked on his blinker, his expression thoughtful.

"Hey, can we make a quick stop at the florist before we head over?" I asked, adjusting my seatbelt. "My mother adores tea roses."

Michael raised an eyebrow, glancing at me. "Of course. Where’s the nearest florist?"

"Just two blocks up," I replied, gesturing towards the strip mall we were approaching.

He maneuvered the car into the lot, pulling up beside a modest shop that had “Cashman’s Florist” scrawled across its window, flanked by a pizza place. As soon as he parked, he was out of the car and at my door before I could even reach for the handle.

“Let me help you,” he said, offering his hand with a warm smile.

I took his hand, stepping out and feeling a little flutter of appreciation for his old-fashioned chivalry. We entered the florist, and I was immediately enveloped by the sweet scent of blooming flowers. My eyes settled on the delicate peach-colored tea roses, and I approached the counter where a short, gray-haired clerk was sorting through a stack of orders.

“Could you please wrap these for me?” I asked, pointing to the roses.

“Of course,” the clerk replied, taking the flowers with a nod.

I wandered around the shop, admiring the vibrant array of blossoms—carnations, lilies, and everything in between. Bending down to inhale the intoxicating fragrance of a Calla Lily, I heard Michael’s voice behind me.

“Do you like them?” he asked, his tone curious.

“They’re lovely,” I said, straightening up. “A bride I knew had them in her centerpieces last year.”

Michael chuckled softly. “I imagine you’ve been to a lot of weddings.”

“Not as many as you might think,” I said, browsing through the bouquets. “My friends and I focused on our careers first before settling down.”

Michael’s brow furrowed. “Is that how you view marriage?”

“Not at all,” I replied, turning to face him. “It’s just that Erika had a rough experience and is waiting until she’s forty. Her parents’ bitter divorce left a mark. My parents, though—they’ve been married for almost fifty years. That’s a marriage I’d aspire to.”

“Yes, it certainly is,” Michael agreed, his gaze thoughtful. “My parents have been married for nearly forty years, but I wouldn’t say their bond is as strong as your parents’. They’re both so busy.”

“Did you ever get to sample candies when you were a kid?” I asked, remembering Michael’s mother’s candy business.

“Oh, all the time,” Michael said, a nostalgic smile crossing his face. “Mom would bring home new candies for us to try. If we didn’t like them, she’d halt the development.”

“Seriously? So three boys influenced the candy lineup?” I asked, intrigued.

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