Page 43 of The Vow

“Kind of late, yeah. The other guy had an accident.”

“In the ring?”

“Nope. In the shower. Hurt his back.”

I had a lot of work ahead of me. I’d have to get back in shape and adjust my diet. Then I envisioned Alex’s beautiful face and there was only one answer.

“Where are my gloves?”

Sixteen

The house was dark. Pulling into the driveway, I wondered if Alex had fallen asleep. I made a pit stop at the grocery store to buy a bouquet of flowers. The deep red, orange, and yellow hues reminded me of her fiery nature. The cashier, an older lady who wore several plastic bangles, had said that she wished her brute of a husband would buy her flowers. After checking out, I pulled an orange dahlia from the bunch and handed it to her. She told me, “Whoever she is, she’s a lucky woman.”

When she first moved in, I made Alex promise to always keep the front door locked, even during the day. Instead of a locked door, I found that it was ajar, and I lost ten years of my life imagining the worst-case scenario.

“Alex!” I screamed, running inside.

“Yes?”

“Where are you?”

“Over here.”

“Jesus.”

I found her in the living room. She was still wearing her crocheted hat, and nothing else. My mind was racing. I was torn between wanting to ravage her, run like a madman to close the front curtains, interrogate her, and then I noticed an elaborate full-course dinner on the table.

“Are those for me?” She was stretched out on the couch with her arm draped over it reminding me of artwork displayed in a museum. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yes,” I said, placing them on the coffee table. “Why was the door open, baby?” I asked, rushing to draw the curtains.

“Shit,” she said, sitting up. “I went to take out the trash. When I came back, I kicked it closed, but I guess it stayed open.”

“And the curtains? Have you been walking around naked?”

She covered herself with a couch cushion which did nothing to extinguish my arousal. “Maybe. But that’s why the lights are off. Is that all you have to say?”

Never in my life have I met a woman who could be both sensual, and child-like at the same time. She was pouting, and for good reason. I was firing questions at her, and worried about the peeping Toms of the world instead of expressing my gratitude and kissing the hell out of her.

“No,” I said, sitting next to her, and handing her the bouquet. “Of course not. You... you leave me speechless.”

Taking in the flowers’ scent, she said, “That’s more like it. Thank you for these.”

“You did all this while I was gone?” The food looked incredible. The table was set with our good crystal, and my grandmother’s dishes that I never used. Touched, I placed my hand on the nape of her neck, pulled her close, and kissed her deeply. “I love you so much, I can’t even describe it in words.”

“Ditto.”

“You scared me when I saw that the door was open and the lights were off. I was expecting a bloody murder scene.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to surprise you. It was getting close to dinner time and I was rushing, and...”

“Don’t be sorry. I love it. All of it.”

“I’m so happy. I didn’t think I could pull it off!”

“And no fire to report.”

“Not a big one, at least.”