Page 4 of Chasing Fireflies

“Well, I’m sure you can go in by yourself. Since you need time away from me.”

“I don’t want to go in by myself.” She looks away. I reach over and tug her arm. Yanking it away, she moves as far from me as she can.

“Sara.”

“Just go in without me, Cash.”

I put the truck in park and kill the engine. Moving closer to her, I softly kiss her neck and feel her restraint melting away. “Please walk inside with me,” I ask sweetly. I feel it when she shivers, and I see the goose bumps run across her soft skin.

“Fine,” she huffs. “You’ve given me gooses.” She tries to play mad, but I see her smile as she opens her door. And just to see her smile more, I get out on her side, too.

*

I pull her along as I look at the signs above the aisles, trying to find mousetraps—the sticky kind, because Sara doesn’t want the old-fashioned ones.

“Oh, Cash, look,” she says, dragging me away from the aisle we need to go down. “I’ve always wanted a hat like this.” It’s a green floppy hat. Sara puts it on and grins at me.

“Get it,” I tell her. She looks at the tag.

“They want too much.”

“Just get it.”

She scrunches her nose and puts her lips together as she thinks on it for a minute. I grin at her.

“It’s not a life-changing decision, woman.”

She looks up at me before she shrugs. “I guess I’ll get it.”

I grab her hand. “Come on. Let’s grab some mousetraps, and then I need to go look at the lumber for our porch.”

*

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. You new in town?” the man who looks a year or two older than me asks as he helps me put my supplies in the back of Old Blue. He removes his gloves, lifts his hat, and runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Yeah, my wife and I just moved here. Bought that old farmhouse on Eighteenth.”

“Damn, that place has been empty for a while.”

“We can tell.” I laugh.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Name’s Mark Phillips.” He places his hat back on his head and reaches to shake my hand. “Let me know if you need any help with the repairs. I learned a thing or two working here.”

“Thanks. I’m Cash Williams, and I may take you up on that. My wife isn’t too great with a hammer.” I smile.

“Hey, I heard that,” she says, walking toward us with her floppy hat on and two melting ice cream cones.

“It isn’t a secret, baby.”

She hands me the cone and rolls her eyes. “Hi, I’m Sara,” she says, moving to hold out her hand, but there is ice cream on it, so she takes it back.

“Sorry. Sticky fingers.”

Mark laughs. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mark. You two should come over for supper sometime. My wife, Leigh, tells me I cook a mean grilled steak.” He winks.

“We may do that,” I say. “Appreciate your help.” I walk around the truck and open the door for Sara to climb in. Once I get in, too, I start Old Blue and put her in drive.

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