He brought me my favorite flowers and I'm freaking out a little bit inside. This is feeling more and more like a date. And I'm oddly OK with that at the moment. I may change my mind in a little bit but I’m going to go with the flow for now. He opens the door to the Bronco and helps me inside. I love the smell of this truck. Old and musty with a hint of grease and a hint of Dalton. I can't imagine him driving anything else. It’s just him. After I'm settled in, he makes his way around to his side and hops in effortlessly and puts the key in. It starts with a roar. It sounds like such an angry vehicle but I love it. As we make our way through the neighborhood and out to the main highway, he glances over at me and smiles softly. No words need to be spoken so we continue our trip in comfortable silence. It feels right—easy. But eventually once of us needs to cut the silence so I choose to do it. "So, have you eaten at Bubba's Place before?" I ask, even though I’m pretty sure he has.
