Cherries

Chapter 13

Adam

She knows exactly where she's going. Hands on the steering wheel, lips moving in silence as she mouths the words to the song on her playlist.

She's absolutely mesmerising.

The bitumen turns to dirt as she turns off towards our destination. A tiny smile shows on her face, her eyes are bright as she navigates her way along the track. Her eagerness is catching as she glances over at me, I can't help but grin back at her.

I adore seeing her like this. Relaxed. Genuine. Candid.

Sounds slightly alarming, but I can't deny that I spend a lot of time studying this woman. And I can honestly say, that she puts up a convincing front most of the time. But not right here and right now. She's all Summer.

But when she's got those walls up, anticipating a struggle ahead, she's got all those subtle defence strategies, more than a military operation in full swing.

The deep rhythmic breathing. Hands wringing together. Always her back is to a wall. She's constantly surveying her surroundings, but often has her eyes on the floor. Rarely engages in conversation. Ear buds are handy like that. I'm guessing she's not listening to anything but it certainly discourages anyone trying to talk to her. She goes quietly about her business, deliberately fading herself into the background.

But I see her. All the complicated beautiful parts. And I want to see more.

"We're here," she announces with a small voice. She seems a tad nervous. Perhaps about her whole secretive plan for tonight. Her turn to take me out, after our lunch at my parents place.

I look around at the impressive view of town from the hilltop lookout we've parked at. She's backed up the SUV, popped the back door and grabbed the two coolers I hadn't even noticed till now.

"Can you grab the rug please?" I snag the picnic blanket and follow her to the tree to set up, spreading it evenly across the ground.

"Cold beers, roast chicken rolls and chocolate mud muffins sound okay?"

"Perfect," I reply and we sit ourselves down to enjoy dinner, the red setting sun, a beautiful hilltop park and some time with each other. We clink our beers together and I watch her take a drink, her lips, her hair falling back as she tilts her head, her throat bobbing as the cool drink slides down her slender throat. Fuck. She catches me staring.

"You good?" She asks me, giving me a quick once over with those big browns.

"Never been better," I answer in complete honesty, making sure she feels my gaze never leaving her eyes.

The conversation is mostly light, more of us both getting to know each other. She's being brave tonight. Asks me about my life in the military and I tell her. I ask her about her family and she tells me. We balance the more difficult subjects with easier ones, our schooling, our friends, fun memories of growing up and discovering the world. She asks me about my plans for Blackhawk and I tell her about expansion ideas and improvements. I ask her about her plans and she stills. Her breathing stutters and her eyes glaze over as she stares off at the view, the sky now almost dark. I give her time to gather her thoughts.

"I don't have any...well...our plans all ended." She looks so fucking sad. Her emotions are easy to read and I want nothing more than to be able to wipe out those awful memories from existence, but this might be good for her. I give her more time and stay quiet.

"I never thought about my plans. It's just enough for me to get through the day..." she sighs heavily but I can almost hear the cogs of her brain turning. That the possibilities are hers for the taking. That she could do anything she fucking wanted. And she'd be brilliant and amazing and exceptional at whatever that was - of that I am sure of.

The sky has completely darkened, the lights in town are twinkling, as are the stars above us. The air has cooled down so we pack up the dinner picnic and move into the back of the SUV. I hide my quick frown as I remember that this is where she usually sleeps but perhaps that's a conversation for another day. The bedding and pillows are more comfortable than the ground we were on, she has some cute fairy lights hung up, the open sunroof allows us to see the stars and the music is quiet in the background. She smiles warmly at me and gazes down at my much longer legs that are hanging out the end of the car, a light chuckle sounding from both of us. It's been a beautiful night and as we relax again with a fresh beer each, I feel like I'm ready to let her know about my developing feelings. How'll she'll react? Fuck knows. But I'm sick of her not knowing how I feel. If it's the pain of her rejection, or the thrill of her reciprocation, either way I'll accept it.

She surprises me with another question. "What other plans do you have?" She lightly taps my temple with her fingertip. I reach up and take her hand in mine, gently rubbing my fingers over hers. She looks from our hands to my face and I feel like I can hear both our hearts thumping away. I can't and don't want to tear my eyes away from hers, as we lay side by side.

"I do have another plan." I take a breath. Here goes nothing.

"I met this girl." Her eyes widen. I keep going.

"She's quiet and keeps to herself mostly. But I've seen other sides of her too."

"She's the bravest person I have ever met."

"She's caring and honest and thoughtful."

"She's ... stunningly beautiful."

"So my plan is..." I stumble on my last words. Nervous. Excited. Tense.

She gently squeezes my hand. Her breath coming out in short spurts in anticipation of what may happen next. I gather myself again and force myself to keep going and not be a fucking pussy.

"...my plan is to kiss her."

"...but..."

I let go of her hand, reaching up and brushing her soft hair back, running my hand down the side of her cheek, my thumb resting on her jaw, fingers splayed across her elegant neck. I lean closer, my lips edging closer to hers, but I hold back slightly, needing this final confirmation first.

"I need to know for sure that she won't have any regrets. Not in a month. Or in a week. Or in the next five minutes," I murmur quietly, looking at her for any sign of her not wanting this. Fuck I hope she wants this.

I wait for her, searching her face, waiting.

To close the distance looming between us.

And fuck, she doesn't disappoint, closing the gap, putting a stop to any hesitation, confirming there's going to be no regret as slowly her soft lips press against mine.