I looked down at myself, then up at Ian and caught the mischievous look in his eyes.
“Don’t,” I warned and hurried to wrestle the hose away from him.
He backed away, laughing.
“Don’t you dare,” I ordered.
He aimed and I lunged.
What other choice did I have?
Water sprayed wildly. Mo barked in delight and in less than five seconds we were all equally soaked.
By the time Ian finally turned off the hose and let it fall to the ground, we were standing in the middle of the yard laughing like idiots.
Mo collapsed in the grass, finally clean and exhausted.
Ian stepped closer, water dripping from his hair.
“You started that,” he accused playfully.
“And how did I do that?”
“By being the only clean one among us.”
He reached out and brushed a streak of mud from my cheek with his thumb, studying my face more closely.
“You’ve had a rough day?” he asked.
“Not nearly as bad as yours.”
Ian’s smile softened, his playful edge easing into something quieter. He stepped closer, water dripping from his hair and onto my face as he leaned down and kissed me—not quick, not teasing—but slow and sure.
Before I could say anything clever when it ended, too soon for me, he bent and scooped me up into his arms.
“Ian!” I yelped, my arms going around his neck as he carried me toward the house.
“We need a shower,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Together,” I said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“Only efficient way to handle this level of disaster.”
I laughed, resting my head briefly against his shoulder as we headed to the front door.
And just like that, I thought of Mom’s voice drifting across the garden center parking lot.
You might want to pick up your pace…
The warmth in her tone. The way Dad had looked at her. The ease between them.
After all these years, they still loved each other the way they must have when they were young.
That’s what I wanted.
Not just the excitement. Not just the drama. Not just the heat.
This.
