“Truth,” he mutters.
“So how long is this walk to your house?”
He shrugs. “Not long, maybe another five minutes.” His tone changes to my second favorite one: his mischievous voice. “We’re going to take a detour.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “What type of detour?”
His smile is dazzling as he looks down at me. “I want to show you my favorite spot on the farm.”
Chapter 32
The Orchard
Mateo
We walk down the dirt path that leads to the row of trees. Holly looks down at her summer dress. It’s a purple wrap dress with frills along the bottom. Her ankle boots were the closest thing she had to cowboy boots, and she insisted on wearing them, even though I told her she didn’t need to try to blend in. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s a hint of panic in her eyes. “I’m not really dressed to go around the farm.”
Holly doesn’t like to get dirty, and I love that. It’s so absolutely her. She might never grow to like getting dirty or having a dirty house, and that’s okay. My mami taught me how to clean up after myself. Holly is mi princesa, and I don’t expect her to like every aspect of my job, just like I don’t enjoy every aspect of hers. But it sure is cute how concerned she gets about this supposed red flag. Let’s be real, it’s a beige flag.
I guide her down the path. We’re almost at my favorite spot. “Don’t worry, you won’t get dirty where we’re going. If you feel like washing up, you can do that at my house before we head back for dinner. You look beautiful, by the way, absolutely perfect.”
Her grin matches mine, and I pride myself that her cheeks are tinted pink.
The orchard section of the farm is an acute triangle shape. The triangle’s widest part is further away from the farmhouse and the hub of the farm, butting up against the small irrigation canal that runs across our land. The smallest section is next to the pathway and right by my house. There’s only a few rows of trees by my house, but it’s perfect for me.
The beautiful thing about summer nights is the golden light that bathes the orchard for what feels like hours. Though the sun sets late in the evening, the light of the day softens early, making the rows of trees feel like a magical oasis.
I squeeze Holly’s hand and guide her off the path into the second to last row of trees before we reach my land. Their branches are empty of cherries, the last being harvested in July. The noises from the farm quiet the further we walk, the trees blocking the view of the buildings and machinery.
Once we’re a few rows in and I can’t see civilization anymore, I stop. We’re at the end of the rows of cherry trees, about to enter the apple tree section. Here, in the middle of the orchard, everything seems perfect, as if my whole life divinely led to this moment.
I look down into Holly’s blue eyes and ask the question I’ve wanted to ask since this daydream was first dreamt. “May I have this dance?”
I wrap my arm around Holly’s waist and cradle her hand against my chest as I pull her against me, stepping side to side in a simple swaying motion.
“What?” She laughs. “We don’t even have music.”
“Hold that thought.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and turn on the slow dance country songs playlist I’ve been listening to on repeat.
You can take the country boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country music out of the boy.
Chris LeDoux’s "Look At You Girl" starts to play, and I tuck my phone into my back pocket. Holly laughs as I pull her back into my arms. She’s a perfect fit, and her smile matches mine as we waltz along the dirt path running between the rows of trees.
I showed off my waltzing skills at the charity gala the other week, but this hits different. There’s something special about waltzing in the trees with a hint of golden light filtering through the leaves even though sunset is hours away, with Holly in her summer dress and me in my Walmart jeans and button-up shirt.
It feels right; it feels like home.
Our different worlds collided with our marriage, but I’m loving our collision.
I twirl her out and around, the skirt of her dress flaring. The jeweled purple hue complements her light skin and blonde hair.
I can’t take my eyes off of her.
Holly twirls back into my chest and I wrap my arms around her, keeping her there. Her hands rest on my arms, and she leans her head back as we sway to the sounds of music in my favorite place on earth.
I can’t imagine anything more perfect.
“Mi amor, I’m so happy you’re here with me.”
