“Nah. I’m too thin, and you’re still perfect.”
I wondered if Virginia was far enough south to get the vapors over the silver-tongued devilishness of a fine looking gentleman horse farmer. “I think I can squeeze under.”
“Nah. That’s okay.”
“I got nothing else going on.”
“Your old man isn’t gonna come looking for you for having the truck out longer than you should?”
I stood up to take my shirt off entirely. “Hold my candy cane.”
Mickey bit his lower lip before taking it.
“Take a lick, if ya want.”
He looked at it, and then at me. Yeah, he remembered, too.
“I hardly ever get grounded anymore,” I said, going back down to shimmy my way under the pickup. “Not since turning twenty-five three years ago.” Looking up at the rusty undercarriage, I asked, “What’s it doing?”
“A lot of bouncin
