What the hell was I thinking—asking my grandma for advice? I am so screwed. Corey couldn’t look at Melanie or the damn rose his self-appointed counselor suggested would make her take a second look. What would an old lady know about romance?
Does a woman care
that roses can cause bleeding,
that thorns can break hearts?
He felt the girl draw close to him. The softness of her skin brushed him when she took the flower from his hand. Corey turned and looked into her hazel eyes.
Beauty in a rose
eludes if you are fearful,
consoles those who love.
“I’ve waited for someone like you all my life, Corey.” Melanie’s voice was like the whisper of a breeze. “So many guys just want what they can get, you know. I used to dream of chivalry, of a man who would care enough to think of little things like this. I’d almost given up on it. I have to confess, I never expected you would be the one.” She reached and swept the hair out of his eyes, then took him by the hand and led him into the next phase of their life together.
(And now I think I understand why I don’t usually write romance!