Page 299 of Love Bites

“What?” Harvey’s bushy brows shot skyward. “That doesn’t leave you much time to fool around with Russell.”

Russell?Didn’t he mean Wolfgang? “Who?”

“Russell, the one-eyed muscle.” His shit-eating grin almost reached his ears.

Both of my kids turned to me, their mouths opening.

“Never mind!” I poked Harvey in the chest. “Keep it PG tonight, you ol’ buzzard.”

“What? That was PG.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Get a piece for me!” He called to my back.

Wolfgang waited for me at the front door, holding the screen open. “A piece of what?”

“Cake. Harvey likes cake.”

Our shoes crunched along the gravel drive. The aroma of fresh-cut grass blended with Deadwood’s usual pine-tree potpourri in the still air. In spite of its fading hold, the sun continued to dole out warmth, keeping the goosebumps at bay.

As we backed out of the drive, Wolfgang glanced at me. “You’re quieter than usual. Something on your mind?”

Yes. He had dark brown eyes and was wining and dining with my best friend at this very moment. “No, I’m just enjoying being here with you.”

“Good.” He squeezed my hand. “I can’t wait to show you my surprise.”

If it was Harvey’s buddy, Russell, I’d exit sprinting.

“I can’t wait to see it.” I tried to make that sound genuine, adding as much inflection as I could muster. Wolfgang was a nice guy—giving, good to my kids. Why wasn’t that enough?

“Before we go any further,” he reached under his seat. “I want you to put this on.” He held out a black satin sleeping mask. When I just stared at him, he tweaked my chin and added. “I’m serious. It’s part of the surprise.”

I complied, slipping on the lavender-scented mask and sliding into darkness, but remaining stiff in my seat as he hit the gas.

“Did you ever find out who was sending you flowers?” he asked.

He had a good memory. I’d forgotten I’d told him about the daisies. “Yes, actually.”

The car shifted as we turned left. I clutched the seat.

“Do I have some competition?”

“No.” I threw in a chuckle to camouflage my lie.

The car swung right, then left a little farther up the road, then left again after a bit longer.

“Good. I’d hate to lose you.”

I was ninety-five percent sure I was already lost.

The car slowed. I heard gravel crunching under the tires. Then we stopped, the engine idling.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and I felt the air pressure change as he opened his door. True to his word, he returned in a jiff. “We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” We had twisted about enough that I couldn’t tell if we were close to downtown or somewhere in the boonies.

“You’ll see.”

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