She’s My Kind Of Rain (Rawlings Ranch #1)

Chapter 24

24

DAISY - JULY 3, 2004

Flowers—just like music—remind me of home. And not in the physical sense, but rather the emotional sense.

Sawyer has only known me a short while, yet every move he makes feels perfectly crafted to me.

“You hungry?” he questions in a tone that suggests he hopes I am.

“Depends, what’s in the basket?” I say, gesturing toward the little wicker container placed off to the left of the cream-colored quilt we’re sitting on.

“I packed all the fixings for the perfect Tennessee picnic. Drumroll, please.”

I don’t hesitate, and paddle my hands on my lap, giggling at such a silly request.

“We have got Elvis’ favorite sandwich, complete with peanut butter, bananas, and crisp bacon.” I fail to hide the disgust on my face, scrunching up my nose and pursing my lips. That sounds...not at all enticing.

He simply laughs before continuing, “Plain salted chips, some ice cold sweet tea, and for dessert, the world famous Moonpie.” He pulls out a rather large chocolate covered cookie looking item and I find myself thankful that it’s not blistering hot out right now, otherwise it would be a pile of mush and I really hate to turn down dessert.

We begin to eat the special lunch he made and I am shocked at how good everything is. I didn’t think I would want more than a taste of the sandwich, but after the first bite many more follow. I’m shocked to find that it’s the perfect combination of savory and sweet, and I hate to admit it, but it might possibly be my favorite now too.

“I’m not sure what possessed someone to put these ingredients together to make a sandwich, but, I have to admit, I’m really glad I tried it.”

He chuckles while taking a sip of his tea, and I can’t help but sit here admiring how perfect he is. Yet, just like the sandwich, he’s an unexpected combination. He’s attractive, yet humble and his kind heart shows through just as much as the beauty he’s been graced with. I consider bringing up what Julia told me, but then he speaks.

“See, you just need a little faith, that’s all.” He smirks, leaning back on the palm of his hands and taking in our surroundings before meeting my gaze again. “I’ll be honest though, when my Pops fed me that for the first time, I thought he’d lost his mind. The combination makes absolutely no sense until you taste it. I guess whoever put it together just had a gut feeling it was going to be great.”

He returns to his sandwich and I decide not to mention the HR issue. At least not yet. I feel like Sawyer and I could be really great together, and even if it isn’t wise, I can’t help myself from falling for him more and more the longer I’m around him. The risk of my job still weighs heavily on me, but right now, looking at his smiling face and seeing him so relaxed and happy, well, I just can’t bring myself to shatter the perfectness of this moment. I try not to let him see my worry, surpassing the chips and heading right for dessert. I close my eyes, taking a big bite. The taste resembles s’mores, and my heart smiles at the thought that this is just another moment where a reminder of my dad comes when I need it most.

I notice a guitar case laying on the blanket. This one is visually less loved then the one from his Pops.

“Will you play something for me?” I say looking into his dreamy green eyes. Excited to hear him sing anything at all. He happily obliges, reaching for his guitar and placing it high up on his lap. He begins to strum a tune I’ve never heard before.

I lay down next to him resting my arm next to his leg, so that I can touch him but not disturb his playing, and I close my eyes. The song’s soft, rhythmic melody is just like being in a field full of flowers—the palpable beauty hanging on every note. I feel like I’m living a dream and decide it’s best not to open my eyes for even a moment—truly hoping that this song plays in an infinite loop .

He doesn’t sing, but continues to play each chord intentionally. Filling the air with a melody just meant for us to hear.

His strumming slows and he shifts ever so slightly, I peek open an eye and meet his gaze. Closing it just as quickly because of how bright the sky feels compared to the darkness behind my lids.

I speak, continuing to keep my eyes closed. “Do you think you’re going to run out of beautiful places to show me?”

“Daisy, I couldn’t possibly run out of pretty places to show you, because everywhere is more beautiful with you in it.”