Of course, she felt the bandage. “What did you do to your leg?” She started to lift my pant leg up so she could look.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was riding my bike and I was struck by a blowing tree branch.”
She stared at me. “You rode your bike in this wind? Are you crazy or something? Let me take a look, God knows you wouldn’t have taken the time to bandage it properly.”
Before I could protest, she ripped the bandage off. Sarah paused. “This one must have hurt you. You actually put Neosporin or something on it.” She secured the bandage again and leaned down and kissed it. “Do you need Tylenol or anything? Does it hurt?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.” I didn’t want to talk about it, so I quickly changed the subject. “So, what amazing treasures did you find today?”
“Oh, the usual—some clothes. And mom and I found some of the cutest things for you. I found some jeans that will show off your ass.” She pinched my butt. “Might as well show it off. You work so hard having a nice one, with all of that bike riding and hiking. I still can’t believe you went riding in this wind.” She shook her head.
I mentioned once, early on in our relationship, that I abhorred shopping and that I’d love to have someone do it for me. Ever since then, whenever she went shopping with her mom, Sarah picked out clothes for me if she saw something she liked. It was sweet really, that she and her mom took the time to help a fashion-impaired person. And, to be honest, I had started dressing better.
“I should have known. Honey, I’m going to have to give up this teaching thing and work with my brother so I can build a closet the size of a house for all of your clothes.”
She smiled a huge smile. “Well, maybe we should stop paying rent for two places and pool our resources for a larger place together.”
Holy fucking shit, I walked right into that one. No way. No how. I was not ready for that . I looked into her eyes and saw anticipation, hope, and fear. I couldn’t do it. “Uh … we can talk about that. But if I’m not mistaken, we have to meet your mom for dinner. What outfit did you buy for me tonight? And by the way, how much do I owe you?”
She slapped my leg and then said, “Oh, my gosh, did I hurt your shin?”
“No, you’re good.” It did sting a little. “Geez, I get injured and then my girlfriend hits me.” I sat up and kissed her cheek.
* * *
“You look fabulous.” Sarah’s mom gave me a hug and eyed my black pinstripe pants and shiny purple shirt. “I have to admit that we did a great job picking out that outfit.”
“Thanks, Rose.” I stepped back from her and my hand flew to the fabric. The shirt was very soft, silky almost. If I knew anything about clothes, I might know the fabric, but I didn’t. I made a mental note to look at the tag to see what it was made of.
Rose said, “I checked in with the hostess and our table is almost ready.”
Fort Collins was one of the largest cities in Colorado. But since it was a college town, there weren’t many nice restaurants. On most occasions when we dined with Rose, we went to Jay’s Bistro, one of the classier joints.
Sarah and Rose chatted while I looked around. Mother and daughter looked so much alike: short dark hair in a fashionable cut, penetrating brown eyes, beautiful skin, and large smiles. And both always dressed impeccably; family money paid off for both of them.
Rosalind Cavanaugh, who hates her full name and prefers Rose, married young. Sarah told me her father had swept her mother off her feet and they married right after Rose graduated from high school. He was a year older. James Cavanaugh was the only child of a wealthy couple and he had never worked. Instead, Sarah’s parents traveled all over the world. After six years of marriage, they had Sarah. James’s health started to fail soon after her birth. He died before Sarah was three. Rose and Sarah grew really close. Consequently, when Sarah
“Oh, it’s nothing. I was riding my bike and I was struck by a blowing tree branch.”
She stared at me. “You rode your bike in this wind? Are you crazy or something? Let me take a look, God knows you wouldn’t have taken the time to bandage it properly.”
Before I could protest, she ripped the bandage off. Sarah paused. “This one must have hurt you. You actually put Neosporin or something on it.” She secured the bandage again and leaned down and kissed it. “Do you need Tylenol or anything? Does it hurt?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.” I didn’t want to talk about it, so I quickly changed the subject. “So, what amazing treasures did you find today?”
“Oh, the usual—some clothes. And mom and I found some of the cutest things for you. I found some jeans that will show off your ass.” She pinched my butt. “Might as well show it off. You work so hard having a nice one, with all of that bike riding and hiking. I still can’t believe you went riding in this wind.” She shook her head.
I mentioned once, early on in our relationship, that I abhorred shopping and that I’d love to have someone do it for me. Ever since then, whenever she went shopping with her mom, Sarah picked out clothes for me if she saw something she liked. It was sweet really, that she and her mom took the time to help a fashion-impaired person. And, to be honest, I had started dressing better.
“I should have known. Honey, I’m going to have to give up this teaching thing and work with my brother so I can build a closet the size of a house for all of your clothes.”
She smiled a huge smile. “Well, maybe we should stop paying rent for two places and pool our resources for a larger place together.”
Holy fucking shit, I walked right into that one. No way. No how. I was not ready for that . I looked into her eyes and saw anticipation, hope, and fear. I couldn’t do it. “Uh … we can talk about that. But if I’m not mistaken, we have to meet your mom for dinner. What outfit did you buy for me tonight? And by the way, how much do I owe you?”
She slapped my leg and then said, “Oh, my gosh, did I hurt your shin?”
“No, you’re good.” It did sting a little. “Geez, I get injured and then my girlfriend hits me.” I sat up and kissed her cheek.
* * *
“You look fabulous.” Sarah’s mom gave me a hug and eyed my black pinstripe pants and shiny purple shirt. “I have to admit that we did a great job picking out that outfit.”
“Thanks, Rose.” I stepped back from her and my hand flew to the fabric. The shirt was very soft, silky almost. If I knew anything about clothes, I might know the fabric, but I didn’t. I made a mental note to look at the tag to see what it was made of.
Rose said, “I checked in with the hostess and our table is almost ready.”
Fort Collins was one of the largest cities in Colorado. But since it was a college town, there weren’t many nice restaurants. On most occasions when we dined with Rose, we went to Jay’s Bistro, one of the classier joints.
Sarah and Rose chatted while I looked around. Mother and daughter looked so much alike: short dark hair in a fashionable cut, penetrating brown eyes, beautiful skin, and large smiles. And both always dressed impeccably; family money paid off for both of them.
Rosalind Cavanaugh, who hates her full name and prefers Rose, married young. Sarah told me her father had swept her mother off her feet and they married right after Rose graduated from high school. He was a year older. James Cavanaugh was the only child of a wealthy couple and he had never worked. Instead, Sarah’s parents traveled all over the world. After six years of marriage, they had Sarah. James’s health started to fail soon after her birth. He died before Sarah was three. Rose and Sarah grew really close. Consequently, when Sarah
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