“Mm-hmm.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, I do.”
The soft wind plays with her auburn locks. She runs her hand through her hair, combing it back in place.
Her peach dress sets a contrast to her eyes and glowing face.
Dipping my gaze to my hands, I ponder her words.
“It’s only a perception. I don’t feel lucky,” I say, swinging my gaze up.
Her smile fades.
“Why’s that?”
I shrug.
“I don’t know. That’s how things are. I don’t have an explanation for it.”
Silently, she picks a strawberry from the plate and pops it into her mouth. Her expression changes as she gets a taste of the sweet and sour aroma.
“He looks like the kind of man I always envisioned for you,” she says.
I chuckle.
“Really?”
“Yes,” she says.
“And what exactly is that kind?” I ask, amused.
She picks another piece of fruit.
“Hot as hell and ruling you with an iron hand,” she says.
I shoot her an incredulous look.
“Are you serious?”
A grin lines her lips.
“Of course I am.”
“What makes you think I need that?”
She runs a napkin over her lips and swallows the last piece of fruit.
“We’ve known each other for how long... Three, four years?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve always run and managed things. You’ve never let a man get close to you. Being in control all the time must’ve worn you out. I can’t imagine you with someone who needs guidance. One of those men who need to be mothered. I think you’d be truly happy with a man who takes the reins and leads you for a change,” she says, a trace of humor in her voice.
“Is that so, Harper?” I ask in a lighter tone as well.
She might have a point, though.