“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 ourFirst Night Care Packagefrom 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?”
