Rae floated through her weekend until she arrived at church. The sight of tall, tanned Ben Buttars leaning against the brown-brick church made wings erupt in her stomach. She skipped over to him and said, “Hey, there, handsome.”
A smile spread his lips, real slow, like he was trying to savor it. He slid his eyes down the length of her body. “Don’t you look nice?”
She brushed her hands over her navy blue pencil skirt, her frilly yellow polka dot blouse the perfect complement to it. “This old thing?”
“That is brand new,” he said.
“How would a cowboy like you know that?”
“My mom had four boys,” he said, pushing himself into a standing position and offering her his arm. “She taught us how to do laundry, and which detergents to use to keep colors bright.” He glanced at her blouse again, an
