Page 39 of Stitch & Steel
It wasn’t much.
But it was early. And it was true.
Not grocery store roses or overpriced stems in a crystal vase. Just flowers I’d stopped the truck for earlier, pulled from the edge of a sun-washed ditch road, thorns in my fingers and all.
I wasn’t trying to impress her with money.
I was trying to show her heart.
Mine.
The kind that didn’t get handed over easily… but once it did, you’d never lose it again.
I took the mountain curves slow, the bouquet on the seat beside me like a peace offering and a prayer all wrapped into one.
By the time I pulled up to the cabin, it was dusky gold—the kind of late summer evening where the light feels warm on your skin and even the shadows lean soft. The porch light flickered on, Gran’s silhouette passing behind the front curtains like a blessing from the old world.
I turned off the ignition.
Sat there a second with both hands on the steering wheel, just breathing.
Damn.
I could patch a tire blindfolded, rebuild an engine in the dark, or take down a man twice my size with a single blow.
But standing on that porch with my heart and a bunch of wildflowers?
That felt like the bravest thing I’d done in a long time.
I climbed the steps.
Knocked once.
Then again.
The door creaked open slow, and there she was.
Bella.
Hair half up, soft dress brushing her knees, and bare feet on the hardwood like some kind of dream. Her lips parted, eyes taking me in—and then down at the flowers I held, rough hands suddenly feeling clumsy as hell.
“Hey,” I said, voice low, suddenly unsure.
She looked up at me, surprise and something warmer flickering behind those long lashes.
“You brought me flowers?” she said, almost like she couldn’t believe it.
I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah. They're... wild. Like me.”
She laughed—a real one this time. Not sarcastic. Not guarded.
Something inside me uncoiled just hearing it.
“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked,” I said gruffly. “But they reminded me of you.”
Her smile softened. “Messy and stubborn?”
“Natural,” I said, stepping a little closer. “And worth stopping the truck for.”
