Brice
I can't remember the last time I was this nervous. After we were interrupted by Kayla's mom calling, she went and took a nap. When I tried to get some work done, I couldn't concentrate, so I tried to watch some TV. No matter what I did, my thoughts kept going back to those moments before her phone rang. She was going to let me kiss her. My lips brushed hers, and I have never wanted anything so much in my life.
Finally, after some serious consideration, I decided to take Ford's advice. She’s here, so I need to make the most of it. With a little help from my mom while Kayla naps, I get everything set up for dinner tonight. I’m praying she will like it and that she isn't regretting our almost kiss. In the meantime, I’m sitting on the couch waiting impatiently for her. Though I know she set an alarm for six so she wouldn't miss dinner. But since we were out late, she took a later nap.
Actually, she really doesn't need the naps anymore. But I know she doesn't get a break when she’s working, so even after just an hour, she looks relaxed and like she feels worlds better. Even though I'd rather spend the time with her myself, I keep encouraging her to take them.
After I check in with my dad to see how he's doing with the clinic, he texts back to take my time with Kayla because he's having a blast catching up with everyone. In other words, he is participating in the Rock Springs gossip tree.
When I start going through my email, she steps into the hallway and offers me a shy smile. Her hair is done up perfectly falling in light waves. While she doesn't have any makeup on, I think she looks even more beautiful than that first day with her full makeup all done.
"How would you like to get out of the house for dinner?" I ask her.
Her eyes light up and she nods.
"Put your boots on and grab a jacket. It still gets cold after the sun goes down," I tell her, and then lead her out to my truck.
Instead of heading to the road, I drive behind the house.
"Where are we going?" she asks as we bounce along the uneven trail that has been made from the frequency of my truck passing through.
"For a real country date, something that will be relaxing yet still the best food you ever had.”
Even though she looks at me doubtfully, I’ll prove it to her soon enough. I drive us to the spot on my parent's ranch that is my favorite. It’s where I go to just think. It's far enough away from my house and theirs that you can't see any lights. At night when the skies are clear, the view of the Texas night sky is breathtaking and something many don't get to see.
With the sun getting ready to set, I know the sky is about to light up with brilliant colors in true Texas fashion. I can't wait for her to see it.
Once at the field, I park and turn on the radio nice and low."Stay here. Let me get set up."
She nods with a small smile on her face.
Jumping out, I reach into the back seat, opening the back window so we can hear the music. Next, I grab the blankets and pillow I have stored back there and toss them in the bed of the truck.
Getting into the back, I arrange the blankets to make things as comfortable as possible. The pillows are set up for her to lean on and I place another blanket for us to use as it cools off. Jumping down, I help her out of the truck. While I know she can get in and out herself, I like being the one to do it, and it's more than just being able to have my hands on her. It's about taking care of her. Something I’m finding I want to do more and more. So as long as she lets me help her out of the truck, I plan to do it.
Closing the door behind her, I get the cooler out my mom packed. Well, both coolers. One has hot food, and the other cold food. "We are going to watch the sunset while we eat. Then dessert by the stars, which should be out. Then we’ll see what constellations we can find. I even downloaded an app on my phone for it," I tell her hoping she can't sense the nerves in my voice.
She lets me lift her onto the tailgate and scoots back in the tail bed, getting comfortable against the pillows. I serve dinner which is my mom’s fried chicken, biscuits, and corn on the cob.
"Is it homemade?" she asks, her face full of longing as she stares at the food.
"Yep, my momma's recipe."
"My mom never cooked fried chicken. I had clients make it once at a meeting at their house and it blew me away. I've been addicted ever since."
After I make her a plate, she sets it on her lap, wasting no time taking a bite of the fried chicken.
"Well?"
"This is so good." With her mouth full of food, her voice is muffled, but she keeps eating like I’m going to take it away from her. When she swallows, I hand her a bottle of water.
"This is better than any restaurant meal I have had in a long time."
"You can't beat good 'ole southern cooking. They just can't replicate it in any commercial kitchen."
"But they sure do try."
As we eat, we talk about little things. Our favorite food, pets we had growing up, favorite music, and movies. We watch the sunset light up the sky in brilliant pinks, oranges, and yellows. When the light fades, I light a few candles on the side of the truck bed and open the second cooler. This one is filled with desserts.