He didn’t kiss me because he wanted it to be special. Because he didn’t want to kiss me for the first time beside a goat. A laugh slips out as I curl a piece of hair.
Saturday. Saturday night is our date night. A real one. Just us. No fundraiser planning, no town watching like he said.
I turn off the curling iron.
“You’re smiling like an idiot,” I tell myself, looking in the mirror.
But honestly, I don’t care.
Not rushed, not forced, just natural.
And Everett had made it clear last night that he feels it too.
My heart warms at the memory of what he said.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I have to tell my sisters. Which means I am about to endure a level of teasing I probably deserve. It’s fine, I know they mean well, I know they only want me to be happy.
I grab my keys, slip on a light sweater, and head out the door.
In my car, I have the thought, did I turn the curling iron off? Running back inside I realize that I did and I head back outside to go to my parents.
The drive to my parents’ flower farm always feels like stepping into another version of my life.
One where things are slower.
The gravel road crunches under my tires, and I pull up beside the old white barn, rows of early spring flowers stretching across the fields in neat, colorful lines.
Tulips.
Daisies.
Ranunculus.
My sister’s cars are already there.
I step out of my car just as the farmhouse door opens.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Lily calls.
Daphne is sipping iced coffee against the porch railing. “We were starting to think you got distracted.”
Rose folds her arms, raising an eyebrow.
“Or delayed,” Lily adds with a grin, “by a tall, handsome theater owner.”
I freeze mid-step.
“You already know?” I ask.
Lily smiles and laughs. “We don’t, but you just admitted it, plus you’re glowing like a Hallmark movie heroine.”
“I am not glowing,” I say.
“You absolutely are,” Daphne says, calmly.
Rose hands me a pair of garden shears. “Before we interrogate you,” she says, “we need flowers.”
