Page 32 of Ace of Spades
“Three years on average, I think, but sometimes up to five years.” Was that it? Henry had grown old and had come to the end of his life? Suddenly, a shudder traveled through him, and then he turned onto his side, floating to the top.
“Oh, Henry,” she said, swiping at the tears falling down her cheeks.
Nate put his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him. “I’m sorry. He was a very good fish and had a great life with you.” He stroked a finger down Henry’s little body. “Rest in peace, Henry.”
She giggled, even as her lips trembled and the tears still fell. “That sounded like a eulogy.” How many men would comfort her at the loss of a fish instead of thinking she was silly for being sad? He was downright sweet, but she didn’t tell him that.
“I assume you don’t want to flush him down the toilet?”
“God, no.” Henry had given her too many years of enjoyment to do that to him. “I don’t know what to do with him, though. I’d like to think of something special.”
“I have an idea. Change into something comfortable for a motorcycle ride.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him, and then brushed his lips over hers. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
She stood next to Henry’s tank after Nate left, unable to help comparing Nate to her only two boyfriends. Neither one would have gotten how much losing Henry hurt, but the bad-boy biker guy had understood. After one last sad glance at Henry, she went into her bedroom and changed into jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and a pair of black boots.
Only twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock at her door. After peering through the peephole to see that it was Nate, she let him in. His gaze skimmed over her, and if the heat in his eyes was any indication, he liked what he saw. The emotions swirling inside her were a strange combo. Her sadness over Henry, while at the same time wanting to drag the man standing at her door straight to her bed, left her standing speechless in front of him.
He’d changed into what she was used to seeing him in. Black leather pants, a black T-shirt, a black leather jacket that looked well used and butter soft, and heavy black boots. Just stick a fork in her and call her done.
“Hi,” she gushed, as if she hadn’t just seen him mere minutes ago.
He grinned. “Hi yourself.” He handed her a small wooden box. “I didn’t know if you had anything to put Henry in, so I stopped at a drugstore and picked up this.”
There went her heart again, giving him another piece of itself. That was a dangerous thing to do with this man. She knew that, but was helpless to stop.
“Want me to do it?” he asked when she stood over Henry’s little body, trying to decide how to pick him up.
“No, he was my fish.” She scooped her hand under him, lifted him, and then gently laid him in the box. “I’ll miss you, Henry,” she said as she lowered the lid.
Nate took the box, slipping it into the inner pocket of his jacket. She followed him to his bike, and once they were helmeted and seated, he reached for her hands, pulling them around his waist.
“If you’re going to spend time riding with me,” he said, “we need to get you a leather jacket.”
“It’s not cold.” Between her sweater and the heat from his body, she was nice and warm.
“No, you need one for safety purposes. Protection from road rash, should the worst happen.”
“Oh, okay.” She liked that he seemed to think she would be taking future rides with him.
The night wasn’t turning out the way she’d imagined, and she had no idea where Nate was headed, but she was touched that he was going to all this trouble because of her fish. Although it was really more that he understood she was sad than anything to do with Henry. She leaned against his back, letting her mind go blank and just enjoying the ride.
A few miles later, he pulled into a parking space at South Pointe Pier. “I thought we’d return Henry to the sea,” he said after stepping off the bike.
She swung her leg over the seat, and after removing her helmet, lifted onto her toes and kissed him. “That’s perfect.” And it was. Nateslipped his hand around hers as they walked to the end of the pier, soft lights along the rail lighting their way.
When they reached the end, he handed her the box. “Did you want to say something?”
“He deserves a few words.” She took it from him, opening the lid. “You were a very good fish, Henry. I’m going to miss you.” She tipped the box, watching as he fell into the sea. Tears burned her eyes at seeing him disappear.
“Bye, Henry,” Nate said quietly.
Her heart melted a little at his gentle voice, and again, she was touched that he’d taken Henry’s demise and her sadness over it seriously. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, looking out at the ocean. It was a clear night with a half moon, and she wished she could see all the stars, but the lights of Miami made that impossible. Only the very brightest of them were visible.
“Thank you,” she said.
He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “You’re welcome.”
And it was that simple with him. No wanting to hear how great he was for what he’d done for her, no belittlement of her being silly for mourning a fish.
