Page 15 of Bred Winner

He nods, but presses his lips together, as if repressing what he really wants to say. “We have a long way to go. It’s too early to worry about if it’s working or not. We should enjoy the time we have while we have it and hope she forgets about the ninety-day agreement as time goes by.”

I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, rolling my head and cracking my neck. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

* * *

I arrive at Alora’s house ten minutes early, parking in the guest spot in front of her door. Grabbing the small bouquet off my passenger seat, I walk to her front door and knock before trying the handle, cracking the door open just far enough to stick my head in. “Alora? Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she calls from the back bedroom. “I need a few minutes. Can you hang out?”

“Of course.” I know her place as well as I know my own. Grabbing a vase from over her microwave, I arrange the flowers in water.

Alora walks into the hallway wrapped in the towel. “I’m going to need a good fifteen minutes.”

“No problem. Take your time.”

She kisses my cheek and smiles. “Thanks.”

I sit in her recliner and lean back, closing my eyes for a minute. I must’ve dozed off—which is crazy because I didn’t think I was tired—when she climbs onto my lap and snuggles against my chest. “Are you sleepy?”

“Not at all.”

“I could go for a nap.” She nuzzles my neck.

“Are you saying you want to skip the aquarium tonight?” I arch my brow.

Alora shrugs. “I don’t want to ruin the plans you made, but I’m not looking forward to two hours of driving back-and-forth to Denver.”

I nod. “We could postpone to next Saturday.”

“Could we? Could we cuddle on the couch tonight instead?”

“Does cuddling on the couch sound like a first date to you?” Normally, I have no problem relaxing and going with the flow, but this is supposed to be a date. Our first date. And I don’t want to cast any veneer other than a proper date between a man and a woman who will most definitely be having sex later on in the night.

Tonight has to be at least a little different from our friendship dates.

She smiles weakly. “I guess not.”

“You up for a walk around Independence Lake? I mean, there’s no sea life inside the lake, at least I hope there’s not, but at least it’s a waterfront. Well, as waterfront as we get in Spring City. We could grab dinner at a restaurant there.”

“That sounds nice.”

* * *

We’re sitting at CeeCee’s by the Seashore with our meals ordered when I finally ask the question that’s been weighing on my mind all week. “The idea of going to the fertility clinic—how long have you been toying with it?”

She takes a sip of her vodka citrus refresher. “Well, I started seriously researching IVF about six months ago, but the idea of becoming a single mother came when my momma got sick. You remember. She went from diagnosis to hospice so quickly, I never brought her out here to show her my new town. After she died, I realized life is unpredictable and time is fleeting, and I needed to get serious about my future.”

Alora shrugs and stares at the table. “Many would think I’m being rash or selfish for not waiting for the husband, but I don’t care.”

“Let us know which one of us you want to marry, and we’ll make an honest woman of you.” I tease, taking a swig of my craft beer.

She slides her fingers onto my forearm. “Do you think you’ll still feel that way after the ninety days are up?”

Nodding, I lick my lips. “I think after ninety days, we’ll whisk you off to Vegas and marry you without your permission. Or maybe we’ll go to Utah and find some commune to perform a ceremony under the full moon.”

She giggles. “That’s crazy talk.”

I shrug and take another sip, staring at the people walking around the lake from our overlook perch. It’s not that crazy. Well, the Utah part is, but a hand-joining ceremony falls right in line with our spirituality. We’d have to figure out the legalities, especially regarding any children, but otherwise a marriage certificate isn’t required.

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