Free Reye's Gold by Ruthie Robinson Page B

nearby, and rode bicycles instead of driving to work. Not driving a car in Texas was saying something. She didn’t know if they owned one or not. She’d only seen them with bikes. In the morning, she’d catch a glimpse of them, the dad and the two children, helmets on everyone’s heads, backpacks secured on the backs of all three, as they rode toward school. Dad was the leader of this motley caravan, stopping to make sure they kept up and helping them to navigate around and through busy intersections. It was so cool to see them, and she loved watching them.
    She’d picked up some condoms and put them in the drawer next to her bed. She’d also put some in the couch seat cushions, under the couch, in the kitchen and other strategic places around her house. Safety first, and she was a safety girl.
    She’d heated the spaghetti sauce earlier and added a few of her secret ingredients. All that was left to do was to boil the noodles and brown the bread. The salad sat prepared and waiting in the refrigerator.
    She’d spent considerable time on her body today, too. She soaked herself in a tub filled with her favorite scent and conditioned her skin until it was as soft as a baby’s bottom. Well, maybe not that soft. She donned her favorite khaki shorts that hugged her curves and came to just above her knees. She added a top in white that looked great against her skin. Next came a pair of flats and some dangling earrings, and she was done. It was casual at-home wear, but it showed off her body to per fection. She’d remembered that they both liked John Mayer, so she added his most recent CD to the mix. She was ready. The house was usually kept clean, she’d given it extra attention last night.
    Stephen had stopped by the market and picked up some flowers. He couldn’t remember ever doing that before, not since prom, and even then his mother had picked those up. The Garden had been his starting point as he followed the path he’d taken walking Reye home. He parked his car behind her truck in the drive and walked up to her door. Again, he was impressed with her home. You could tell that someone took time with it. There were attractive flowers in a neat bed, the yard was cut and the hedges trimmed. Did she take care of that herself? He knocked on the door and waited. It opened almost immediately. He stood there for a second, taking in her eyes and her wide smile. She was so open sometimes that he felt afraid for her.
    “Come in,” she said. He tracked her eyes as they moved to his hand and took in the flowers he held.
    “These are for you,” he said, handing them over to her.
    “Thank you, they are beautiful. Make yourself at home while I put these in something.” God, she thought, what was she, the hostess with the mostest straight out of a scene from a family sitcom. It was annoying sometimes, but she couldn’t help herself. Her mom had relentlessly drilled manners into her and her brothers.
    Stephen watched her walk away, his body responding to the picture she presented. Her clothes fit her like a s econd skin. To take his mind off that part of his anatomy, he looked around her home. It was cozy. Light green, light blue, and yellow covered different walls in the room, and the molding and trim were white. Tiled floors were covered by equally colorful rugs, matching the colors on the walls. There were lots of framed posters anchored to the walls. Pictures covered most surfaces, her with her family, and he guessed with friends, all with faces smiling into the camera.
    In the kitchen, Reye located a pitcher to put the flowers in. F.I.N.E described that man, fanning herself with her hand as she set about putting the flowers in a vase. He’d kept his attire casual, too— cargo shorts topped off with a blue polo that matched his eyes. He was her “Mr. Golden” all tall, lean, and sexy. She went back to join him in the living room.
    “I like your home. You like color ,” he said as she re entered the living room. He put