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“Sorry ...” Her mind was diverted, and if she didn’t ask, it appeared it would stay that way. “I have something to ask you. Well, more of a thought to express, but it brings things into question, so I’m ...” She was hesitant to ask, given the ramifications if she was right. How Deckard would feel if it was true.
He released a chuckle beside her.
“What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He chuckled again. “Do you always ramble like that?”
“No ... yes.” She gave a sheepish smile.
“Don’t get me wrong.” He smiled back. “I think it’s adorable, but not something I’ve encountered before.”
“Really? Riley never goes around and around like that?”
“No. As peppy as Riley is, she keeps most of her thoughts to herself.”
Much like him, she imagined. “That’s one way to go,” she said, slipping her shoes off and dropping them on the floorboard—always more comfortable without them on.
“I think I’m afraid to ask what’s in that mind of yours.” A smile curled on his lips, headlights bouncing across his handsome face.
Too bad she couldn’t have a relationship. Not while serving like she did with ICRC for two months every year, and a mission trip nearly every vacation week she got. Her attention and devotion needed to remain where God had called her—protecting the dignified treatment of the dead after conflict, disasters, or situations of violence, and helping to identify lost loved ones. It crushed her spirit seeing such death, such hurt, but God kept telling her to go, so she did, fully dependent on Him to carry her through and make her helpful.
Andi argued she could at least give a relationship a try, but what was the point? She didn’t date just to date. She wanted to eventually find someone she could build a lasting relationship with, but given her work with ICRC, now was most definitely not the time. She couldn’t have divided devotion. And why was she going there? It wasn’t like Deckard had shown that type of interest in her.Great.Now her thoughts were rambling too.
“I lose you there?” he asked.
“Sorry. Woolgathering.”
“Haven’t heard that word in a while.”
“No?”
“Nope. Riley calls it daydreaming, and boy, does that girl daydream.”
“I think daydreams are nice.” It was easy enough to slip into them while soaking up the sun on her patio, just letting her thoughts fly free.
“I suppose.” He tapped the wheel.
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t think so?”
“Just never done it.”
She sat forward. “You’ve seriously never daydreamed?”
“Nope.”
“Well, that stinks.”
He arched a brow, shooting a quick glance at her. “How do you figure that?”
“It’s a great way to let your thoughts run free, to have dreams while you’re awake and can remember them.”
He drummed the wheel. “I’ll take your word for it.”
She reclined against the passenger door. Wisps of clouds slipped over the moon, casting an eerie atmosphere. Night held inky black around them. She shifted her gaze, focusing on the stars blanketing the sky.
Deckard shot her a smile, the movement crinkling the corners of his deep blue eyes, eyes that lit with the passing of a lone car—its headlights sweeping across his face. “You really shouldn’t sit like that,” he said. “It’s not safe.”
She tilted her head, confusion anchoring inside.
