“Hey! I’m out now. You can go ahead!” She came out of her room and peered at me. I could see her throat bob as she swallowed. There was something undeniably intimate about this moment. The air was thick with unspoken words, shared warmth, and familiar glances.
I went back inside my room, changed, and ran to the kitchen to get the meal started cooking. I wanted it to be ready as soon as possible. I pulled out some steaks from the fridge and some green beans I had left thawing. I cut two potatoes down the middle, keeping them whole, and tossed them in the microwave to start cooking. I seasoned the steaks and slapped them on a pan with high heat, listening to the sizzling sounds, and put the green beans in a kettle with some salt and butter.
“Smells amazing in here.” I turned and saw Daisy with her hair in a messy bun, a worn T-shirt, and shorts completing the look.
“Thank you. I’m not finished just yet.”
“No worries. Don’t get your panties in a wad, cowboy. I can wait.” She pulled some plates out of the cabinet and placed them and some silverware on the table.
“You don’t have to do that. I will get to it.”
“Nonsense. You’re cooking. The least I can do is set the table.”
She came closer to where I was standing at the stove and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind. I could feel the weight of her head as she pressed it against my back, and I wanted to take her right then and there, but I knew it wasn’t the right time.
“Hope you’re hungry. Food’s ready.” She let go and made her way to the table, and I followed behind her with the food. “One more thing.” I walked into the living room, returning with a candle. I grabbed the lighter from the top of the fridge and lit it, placing it between us.
“Look at you pulling out all the stops. Colt Hogan trying to be romantic?” I nodded, and I could see the way her face lit up. She was enjoying herself.
We started eating, giving quick glances and nonstop smiles. She was perfect. She was everything I could ever want in a woman. I had a plan for this evening, and I knew that I wanted to do this one last thing before we were too tired to stay awake any longer, and before my dad showed up later tonight. I scooted the chair beside me out a little and pulled something up from it, placing it on the table. Daisy looked down, and she knew exactly what it was.
“My journal?” I nodded. “How do you have it?”
“I found it after you moved away. I needed some space to be alone for a bit, so I went up into the tree house. I saw it there and picked it up.”
I remember that day like yesterday. It was the day my mom died. I went out into the treehouse and sat there, wishing all the pain would disappear. I had lost my mom, and I didn’t have the one person in my life who always made me feel comforted. I didn’t have Daisy. That was one of the few times that I have ever cried.
I cried because of the pain.
I cried because of my mom being gone.
I cried because of all the things my mom wouldn’t be here for.
And I cried for my lost friendship, the one I wanted back more than anything.
I cried for the love of my life to return.
“I thought I had lost it.” I picked it up and handed it to her. I saw a look of fear flood her face.
“Did you read it?” My face lit up, a mischievous grin forming. I knew Daisy, and she wouldn’t stay mad at me over something like this. She could never stay mad at me.
“You mention several times wanting to wear the cowboy hat.” She covered her face partially with the book, trying to hide her rosy cheeks. “You know what they say about that, don’t you?”
“What’s that, cowboy?”
“If you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“So?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve not worn your cowboy hat yet.” She was telling the truth, but there was an easy solution.
“Well, we can fix that.” I rose from the table, placing one hand on my hat to take it off and place it on her head, but I was stopped by her hand. I knew she was trying to stop me, and we both returned to our seats. “There’s plenty of spots here on the ranch that I think could be christened.” I winked.
“Maybe we could do that at one point.”
“Check the page that’s bookmarked.” She looked down and then back up at me as if asking for permission. I nodded, then she opened the page.
