Picking Peaches (Rosewood)

by Ansley B. Calloway

​The thought of Ashton caring about if I lived or died made me blush. The bar is so low in hell.

“Ruth it’s nine in the morning. And Uncle Nick just gave you a mountain of whipped cream on top of your french toast.” ​“But Daddy, that was for breakfast. I want a treat,”

​She laughed at my dumb joke and my heart fluttered. Never in my life have I felt this giddy over anything other than volleyball.

Did she really need to ask if I wanted her there? I wasn’t sure how to be more clear about the fact that I wanted no one but her to be around for the rest of our lives.

“What’s something that makes your dad happy?” ​Her focused face stopped liking her ice cream for a moment to turn to me. “Food. And my jokes.” She went back to her ice cream. “Oh, and you. He smiles around you a lot.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to play house with me.” ​I didn’t even hesitate to roll my eyes. “I’ll play house with you any time Mrs. Reid.”

“I’m so in love with you. Like head over heels cheesy I would do anything for you kind of love. I want to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep holding you every night. Please.”