Chapter 25 #2
“Really?” He’s clearly shocked by that answer.
“I said to stay with me for a second.”
“Sorry, I thought you were going to come with something like a politician or a CEO.”
“Nope, I’ve always loved flowers. They represent the best of human nature. We send them for love, for condolences, for congratulations, for apologies. There’s just something so real and beautiful about that.”
He looks at me, thoughtful blue eyes contemplating my words. His profile is cut against the sunset, strong, steady, handsome. “That’s so interesting.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just thinking how flowers are fragile and fleeting.
They wilt, but florists still choose to put them together beautifully in the moment, arrange bouquets that they know will never last, all while trying to preserve them as long as possible.
I don’t know.” He scratches his head, like he’s trying to string together his thoughts.
“I guess I wish you’d look at marriage like a florist looks at flowers.
Choose to make something beautiful and then fight as hard as you can to make it last.”
I sit back in my saddle, surprised by his words. “Wow, Daisy, it seems like my husband is deeper than I’ve given him credit for.”
Hess laughs as if he’s embarrassed, but he shouldn’t be. Everything he said sticks to my heart in a way nothing else ever has.
Like I’ve been looking at everything from the wrong angle all along.
Hess
The trail winds through the edge of the property, climbing up the ridge just as the sun dips low, setting the sky on fire.
“Nothing beats an Arizona sunset,” Camila says as I help her dismount Daisy Duke.
The way the sun splashes over her hair and face has her glowing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.” Her eyes shift to me, and I don’t even care that she knows I wasn’t talking about the sunset. I lift my brows. “Sunset picnic?”
There’s an instant smile. “Yes, please.”
I grab the blanket I’d stuffed into my saddlebag earlier, and I shake it out, spreading it over the rocky ground. Then comes the little cooler—plastic wine glasses, a bottle of cheap red, cheeses, crackers, and even a few slices of salami. Nothing fancy, but enough to feel like something.
She tugs her shirt off her shoulder and ties it around her waist before taking a seat. “I’m impressed. Didn’t take you for a man who owns plastic wine glasses.”
“They came in our First Night Care Package from the priest who married us.”
“Oh my gosh!” She laughs. “I forgot about that.”
“You really shouldn’t have given that basket up so easily. 101 Nights of Passion was an excellent read. Very educational.”
“You did not read it.”
“I absolutely did.”
“Well, half of that care package is mine, and it looks like you’ve been holding out on me by keeping it to yourself.”
“Like how you’ve been holding out on me by pretending you don’t like animals.”
Her eyes narrow as if she’s unsure of my line of questioning. “I don’t like animals.” She throws a grimace toward the horses. “No offense, Daisy.”
“False.” I lie on my side, legs kicked out, weight resting on my forearm. “I’ve seen you in the Ring camera, saying goodbye to Harvey every morning.”
“You’ve been watching me?” Her mouth falls open.
“I’ve got hours of footage.”
“I should’ve known you were recording me.” She shakes her head. “Well, Harvey might be the only exception to my no-animal rule. He’s actually a pretty nice dog.”
Her admission causes a giant grin to spread across my mouth.
“Are you gloating?”
The grin morphs into a teasing smile that matches my playful tone. “If you’re going to learn to love me, you have to love my dog first.”
She leans back against her hand, putting her body closer to mine. “And who says I’m going to learn to love you?”
“You’re already starting to.”
“Is that so?”
“I see the way you look at me when I wear a cowboy hat.” For added effect, I tip the front rim to her.
She rolls her lips, fighting a smile, and glances to the side, as if looking at me will give away all her secrets.
“It’s the tight pants, isn’t it?” Her head falls back with laughter, stirring happiness inside me. “That’s why you like cowboys so much. Don’t worry, your mom confirmed your obsession.”
There’s a conscious effort to even her expression and control her smile before she turns to me. “So, how long have you lived here?”
“A subject change?” I laugh. “Wow, this obsession is worse than I thought.”
“Mm-hmm.” Her nose crinkles as she shakes her head, and it’s the softest, most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “So you’ve lived here how long?” she asks again.
“About nine months. I didn’t build the house. It just came up on the market and had everything I wanted, so I went for it.”
“I don’t blame you.” Her eyes scan the orange-and-purple horizon.
I should look at the sunset too, but all I can see is Camila—the curve of her smile, the way the wind teases strands of her hair.
“When you said Queen Creek, all I could think about was how far away it felt from my life and my job in Phoenix. But I actually love it out here.”
My brows jump. “You do?”
“Don’t be so shocked.” She laughs. “It feels slower and peaceful out here. Definitely things I need in my life.”
“Does that mean there’s more horseback rides in our future?”
“Maybe.”
“What else is in our future?” I tilt my body, leaning a fraction closer.
Her smile falters as her eyes drift to my lips and then back to meet my gaze.
Pounding drums inside my heart.
I want to lean in even more.
I want to kiss her.
Not for the physical gratification, but because I like her.
The thought hits hard.
I like my wife. A lot.
Cactus Jack whinnies, and we both glance at the horses, the moment between us lost.
“We should get going.” I clear my throat, pushing to my feet. “The horses will need the light to get us back home.”
She glances up at me, maybe disappointed, maybe relieved. I can’t tell.
As we mount up again, the sky slips into twilight. And all I can think is how close I came to kissing her, how much I wanted to, and how much harder it’s getting not to think of Camila as mine.