I grin, settling back into my seat.
“And we’re delivering what?”
He glances at me, one brow lifting slightly.
“Semen straws for his heifers.”
I snort.
“Semen straws?”
“Bull spunk.”
Then, I giggle.
“Of course we are.”
He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Still not over that, huh?”
“Nope,” I say cheerfully. “Don’t think I ever will be. It’s just such a glamorous life you lead, Benji.”
“Yeah?” he shoots back. “Well, I didn’t hear you complaining about it earlier.”
My breath catches.
Just a little.
Heat creeps up my neck, and I look away quickly, focusing very hard on the scenery flying by.
“Low blow,” I mutter.
He smirks.
I can feel it without even looking.
And yeah.
There it is again.
That flutter.
That stupid, giddy, completely irrational feeling that I thought I’d left behind years ago.
I sigh softly, resting my head against the window.
Cautiously optimistic.
That’s what I am.
That’s what I should be.
Because we still have things to figure out.
Still have truths to uncover.
Still have wounds that haven’t fully healed.
