Page 35 of Forbidden Cowboy
“Are you sixteen?”
“My guess is a sixteen-year-old wrote this.”
She ignores my accurate side note. “First question. Are you a spender or a saver?”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m a saver. But this weekend I’ve rented us a cottage nested in a southern belle pecan orchard.”
“So you’re a romantic.” She scrolls down the list.
“I’ve never been a romantic. Never had the desire.”
Hope leans back in the seat and rearranges the visor to block the early morning sun. “I recall many times you surprised me on one of our adventures. You snuck pie from your grandma’s baking. Or the time you set up a campsite on the fence line. Sleeping bags, a campfire and marshmallows were all present.”
The night is fresh in my mind too. We’d lied to our parents and spent the night under the stars. “That wasn’t supposed to be romantic.”
“Maybe not, but it revealed who you were, deep down. This sweet, caring guy who went out of his way for those he cared about.”
“Don’t go telling everyone. You’ll tarnish my grumpy name.”
“Next question, what is the most annoying thing couples do on social media?”
“I don’t have no goddam social media.” I tilt my head to her. “See, written by a sixteen –year-old millennial.”
The four hour drive to Louisiana is long, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind tracking across the state if I get to do it with Hope by my side. We stop in Alexandria for lunch. We find a patio outside and enjoy the buzz of the city over classic Louisiana red beans and rice with grilled sausage and cornbread. Halfway through our meal, Hope takes a bite of my cornbread with a little giggle. No one around us noticed. No one cares.
We tour an upscale flea market. Each time she slips her hand out of mine to look at a unique find, I want to grab it back. We don’t make it out without a few buys. Supper is creeping up, sowe stop by a grocery store and pick up enough supplies to last us the weekend.
We check into our private log cabin with a terracotta roof. I know the specs: kitchenette, dining area, jacuzzi bathtub, and plush king size bed.
“It’s so cute.” Hope carries in her bags while I juggle the groceries and my own bag. “It reminds me of the lodge with its walls and earthy colors.”
I leave the bags on the kitchen table and follow Hope into the bedroom.
She runs her fingers through the rose petals sprinkled over the white coverlet on the maple bed. “Not the romantic type, huh?”
I lean against the doorframe. “Maybe a little.”
“Definitely a little.” She turns to me. “Are we eating out for supper?”
“We can.”
She loosens the top button in her dress. “I think I’ll take a shower before we go.” The second button opens. “I mean you were very jealous of my shower the other day—ahhh!” I’m across the room and tossing her over my shoulder in seconds. I slap her derrière. “I’ve been waiting all week for this.”
Chapter Fourteen
HOPE
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“THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!”
Levi runs and sweeps the net over a lightning bug. He walks back to me in the slow sexy way the man walks without even knowing how darn hot he is. We carefully shake it to the mason jar of lightning bugs we’ve already caught.
“There are definitely not as many lightning bugs as when we were youngins.”
After we spent both evenings lying by the campfire, entwined in each other’s arms, and watching the light-show of blue-white lights under the oak trees, we decided to catch some like the good ol’ days.
Today was perfect.