Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Nervous tension filled me as I waited for my date to arrive. When he showed up on a motorcycle I thought I would faint. Did he really expect me to climb onto the back of a motorcycle with a complete stranger? I must’ve been crazy to allow Charissa to talk me into signing up with this dating service.

However, when he took his helmet off, my heart did a flip. His hair hung in dark waves just over his shirt collar. Then he turned those baby blues on me, and I was a goner.

He swung off the motorcycle and stood before me—head and shoulders taller than me, and my heart started break-dancing in my chest while butterflies filled my stomach.

“You must be Callie. I’m Wade Carson.”

His oh-so-smooth voice rolled over me like a refreshing summer rain. “Uh, yeah, I’m Callie.”

“I hope you don’t mind riding on my bike?” He quirked an eyebrow at me.

I looked at the motorcycle then back to him and cleared my throat. “No, that’s fine. I mean, you just rode it, how far to get here, and you arrived safely.” I released a nervous giggle.

He chuckled. “It was a forty-five minute drive, and don’t worry, I’m a careful driver. I have an extra helmet.” He moved back to the bike, lifted a helmet from the far side, and held it out to me.

I moved closer, took the helmet and inspected the bike. I didn’t see any handholds for the passenger. I looked into his blue eyes. “What am I supposed to hold onto?”

“Me.” He winked and grinned, displaying two deep dimples.

I forced myself not to fan my hand in front of me, but this was so not what I expected from a dating service. I thought only desperate losers resorted to sign up with dating services. “Okay.”

He helped me strap the helmet under my chin, then swung his arm in an arc, inviting me to get on the motorcycle. When I was seated, he swung his leg over and took his position in front of me.

“When we go around a turn, the bike will lean. Lean into the turn, otherwise we may tip over.”

I nodded.

He started the bike, pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, and I placed my hands on his sides.

We attended a matinee showing of the movie “Mask” that starred Cher, and if I’d known it was going to make me cry, I would’ve suggested something else. I tried to keep my sniffling to a minimum, but Wade reached over, took my hand in his, and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

After the movie, we went for pizza.

“So if you read my profile, I guess you know I work in construction. Job foreman, actually. And you write for a magazine?”

“Yeah. I’m one of the feature writers. I pretty much get to pick and choose what stories I want to write.” My curiosity getting the better of me, had me blurting out the question I’d been dying to know the answer to. “So why did you sign up with the dating service?”

“I was having trouble meeting women who were more than just a pretty package.”

So does that mean I’m more than a pretty package or something other than a pretty package?

“Have you gone out with many women through the dating service?”

“A few.” His eyes bored into mine.

I became uncomfortable under his scrutiny and was the first to look away.

We left the pizza shop and he took me home. He walked me to the door, stood close, and looked down at me.

When he bent closer, I took a step back and put a hand on his chest. “I don’t kiss on the first date.”

He put one hand on my hand on his chest, and took my other hand in his but never broke eye contact. “When can I see you again?”

“I’m available next Saturday.”

He dropped one of my hands, grasping the one on his chest in both of his and raised it to his lips. He kissed each finger, then the back of my hand. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

I walked into my apartment, leaned against the door, and sighed certain that Wade Carson with his dimples and baby blues would be first and foremost in my mind the entire week.

Photo by Brooke Winters on Unsplash

I stood by my car in my parents’ driveway. I’d just returned from my final year at college. That’s when I saw her. A gorgeous blonde walking toward me on the sidewalk. She turned to follow the path to the house next door. I watched as she opened the door and walked in without pausing or ringing the doorbell.

Mom hadn’t said anything about the Stewarts moving. I searched my memory. The Stewarts had had a daughter … Audrey, Abigail, … Allison, that’s what it was, Allison. But she was a gangly, freckle-faced girl with braces last I’d seen her. That blonde couldn’t be Allison.

I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and strode into the house. “Hey everyone, I’m home!”

Mom came from the kitchen, Dad from the living room, and my younger brother, Tim, bounded down the stairs. I got hugs from everyone and after taking my bags to my room upstairs, Tim helped me bring the rest of the stuff from the car.

“So, little brother, I come home and you’ll soon be leaving for college. You got some big dreams?”

Tim smiled. “Doesn’t everyone have big dreams? I’m headed to the same college you just came from, but I’ll be studying computer technology. I plan to create the best social media ever.”

“Social media? Don’t we have enough of that?” I poked him in the side with my elbow.

“Not like what I’ll create. You just wait and see.”

“Will your social media be able to hook me up with the gorgeous blonde I saw walk into the house next door?”

Tim’s gaze dropped to his feet. “You won’t need any help.”

“Whoa, did I say something wrong? Who is that girl?”

“That’s Allison Stewart, don’t you remember her? And, no you didn’t say anything wrong.” Every word came out monotone.

“That’s really Allison? How did that transformation happen? Whoa, is she your girl?”

“Huh, I wish! She doesn’t have the time of day for me, and yeah, she grew up and the freckles disappeared. The braces came off to reveal a dazzling smile, and she filled out well, didn’t she?”

I grinned and tousled his hair. “Okay, Tim, I’ll stay out of your way. I can see you’re interested in her.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

“Not right now. She doesn’t keep a boyfriend long.” Tim looked at me but didn’t say more.

I got settled in my room and enjoyed Mom’s cooking and dinner with the family. It felt good to be home again but I didn’t plan to stay long. With the job I had lined up, I should be able to move out of here for good after the holidays. Maybe not out of the area, just out of my parents’ house.

The following Friday I rang the Stewart’s doorbell. Mrs. Stewart answered.

“Is Allison here?”

“No, she isn’t. She should be back in about an hour. Is there something I can do for you?”

“No. I’m Chad Waters from next door, just returned from college. I saw Allison the day I arrived, and thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

Mrs. Stewart looked me up and down, then closed the door. Had I offended her somehow?

As the time drew nearer for Allison’s return, I went over and sat down in their driveway in front of her dad’s Range Rover. I bet no guy had ever waited for her like this before.

I didn’t have to wait long. I saw Allison coming down the sidewalk, wearing a pair of jeans and an orange t-shirt, her hair, pulled into a ponytail. I could tell the moment she spotted me. Her pace slowed and before getting too close, she called out, “Who are you and what are you doing sitting in our driveway?”

I stood up and smiled at her. “Allison, it’s me, Chad, from next door. I thought I’d see how you’re doing and maybe take you out for a soda or pizza or something.”

She came and stood about three feet away from me. “Chad, is it really you?”

I nodded. She stepped closer then reached out and touched my arm, sending an electrical current up to my shoulder. Then she stepped even closer and put her hand on the side of my face and my heart skipped a beat.

“You’re more handsome than I remember. This must be a dream.”

“I know what you mean. You’re so beautiful … not at all like I remembered you.”

She laughed out loud—a sound like tinkling bells.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she whispered, “I’ve always dreamed of being your girl.”

Then I kissed her.