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Daisy wrinkled her nose and smiled. “Janie would have pressed them into an album, probably.”
“She might have,” he agreed. Her key was already in the ignition, and it felt like she was slipping away. He had to ask. “So what about more kissing, Daize?”
She considered for a moment, then sighed. “There’s a long rodeo season ahead of us, Hank. We sure can’t have anything getting in the way.”
“Yeah,” he said, relieved, because her smile said she might not really mind more kissing. He’d see her Sunday, and Hillsboro rodeo was only five days after that.
The door squealed as she shut it.
Through the open window she asked, “You know what was dumb about those flowers, besides the obvious?”
“The obvious being that you didn’t thank me and tossed them in the dirt?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
His fingers touched her hair. “I don’t know, Daisy Mae, why don’t you tell me what was dumb about the flowers? I sure felt dumb for giving them to you.”
Eyes shadowed, her voice got real quiet. “T.J. was at a rodeo in Austin that night. He couldn’t stay sober long enough to drive down and celebrate with me.” In the low light, her eyes were green again, her soft voice infused with sweet honey. “I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with and I’d already tossed your flowers on the ground, Hank. I thought of it at the time.”
He planted a gentle kiss on her lips, ran a finger across her cheek. “Thanks for letting me know, Daize. I’ll celebrate with you anytime. See you Sunday?”
“Yeah, Hank, see you Sunday.”
He tapped the door. “I’ll be thinking of you.”
Her eyes laughed. “I won’t ask what you’ll be thinking.”
