“We could just move near a big river instead and rescue the crawfish right on location,” she says.
“Wherever you want to go, I will go. Always, Sam. Always.”
She threads her fingers through mine and stares up at me, her eyes more beautiful than all the stars in the sky. “Me too, Beau. You’re my heart. Where your heart goes, mine will always follow.” She glances at the sloped roof. “Just not off of there.” Her other hand fingers the rope that’s wrapped around her waist. “These were a great idea. Very foolproof and splatterproof. You’re pretty much a genius.”
“That dirty talk is going to wind up getting you whisked off this roof and straight into bed, my love,” I grunt.
Her lips trace mine with the softest kiss. “Would they make it possible to be whisked straight into bed right here? Never mind. Katie’s in the barn. And, also, shingle burn. The only road rash I want on my backside is from your hand.” Then, she grins at me. “Careful. If you keep looking at me like that, you might have to tie me to the bed to restrain me.”
It’s an old joke. One I still find no less shocking than the first time. But we haven’t done it yet, not even in gentle play.
“Should I take you inside yet and show you how much I love you with all of me?” I murmur huskily.
“Oh, yes, please, darling. Just give me one more minute to admire the moon and the stars, and then my attention is all yours.”
“No moon or stars or anything in this world could be more beautiful than you are.”
“That’s the same for me when it comes to you, you beautiful, wonderful, hotter-than-sin beast of a man. I love you,” she says, her eyes brightly showing her deep love.
“Am I doing a literal minute? Should I start counting down now?” I ask impatiently.
Her laughter reaches up to the night sky. “Yes, Beau. One literal minute. Start counting now.”
The End.
