Since the incident with Finley, her nights have been unpleasantly welcoming mares. Xander was always away in the woods at nightfall, observing the perimeter. Taking long strolls, sometimes watching from the top tree. He would later appear in front of her in the morning, on a chair across the room with his huskiness and endearing eye-rolling.
It was one of those nights. Her mind traveled back to the day her car broke down at noon and Finley offered her a lift home. They made a stop at the flower shop.
He got out of the car and walked to her side of the door.
"How long can you keep a lady waiting?" she teased.
"It depends on what she's waiting for," he smirked. "And besides a lady looks best unbothered, unaltered, unfiltered. If that's waiting, I might do that for the longest of time."
"You just might be wrong there," she squinted.
