Love In Destin ✔

39 - angel baby

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"YOU'RE WEARING RINGS," I watch his hands slide across the steering wheel as he makes a left turn."You never wear rings,"

"Actually, I've worn rings. Just not in the time I've known you,"

"You should wear them more often,"

"Why? Do they make me look hot?" He raises his brow, and the obvious flirtation has my heart spinning in my chest.

"Maybe a little," I turn to the window, trying to hide my smile. I'm feeling like myself again, the most I've felt for the past week.

"Actually, tell me, what makes you think I'm hot?"

"What makes me think you're hot? Why?"

"So that I can get you blushing like that all the time," he grins at me as I hide my reddening face in my hands.

"Ok, well, the rings, for instance, and when you wear blue because it matches your eyes,"

"So the leather is a turnoff?"

"The leather still makes butterflies dance in my tummy," I mumble to myself.

"It's cute when you act shy. You never did that at the beginning,"

"Because I didn't like you then,"

A few minutes later, we pull into a somewhat empty parking lot overlooking the beach. The mood suddenly feels different with how Rick's face has turned solemn. "Rick, listen, I've been inconsiderate. I was only thinking about myself, and I've got to understand that we're different. You don't have to force yourself to explain anything to me. I'll wait, I'll do better,"

He sits up straighter and shifts his body so he can face me. "Thing is," he takes my hand, sending sparks down my arm and interlocks our fingers together. "I want to tell you. Everything,"

"Are you sure?"

He nods, and I smile vividly at him, crossing my legs on the seat, "I'm listening,"

"Why do you think I talk about my mom all the time?"

"Because you love her, and she's your role model."

"Yes, but also cause talking about her is what keeps me going every day,"

My face falls. "Is she..."

"Yes, she died," His voice is heavy, like he had to drag the word 'died' out. He stills, his lips parting and his eyes searching my face for something. His head is just slightly tilted, and those grooves rise from the inside corners of his brows.

"I'm so sorry, Rick," I know saying sorry doesn't really soothe the pain of losing someone you love, but sometimes you can't help it.

His brows lower, and he moves on with the story about his mom and the day she died. I listen as attentively as I can.

"She planned her own baby shower?" I blurt with a chortle, but then I notice Rick's face and quickly apologize.

"No, it's alright," Rick chuckles. "The moment my parents found out my mom was pregnant, they started searching for names. Dad suggested Daisy, but Mom thought it was too cheesy to name her after something she liked. That everybody does that but Dad did not relent. And so she told him she gets to plan her own baby shower, and he agreed,"

"But then, wouldn't people know? Wasn't there someone who wanted to plan it for her?"

"She lied that a relative had first dibs for planning the minute she found she was pregnant. Her plan was to act surprised in front of the guests so that they wouldn't get the hint. My mom was funny like that,"