“If you tell me what it is, I can try to do it,” he said, uncertainty and grim determination warring on his face. It was as if he expected a kiss to be something extremely difficult or unpleasant. Like loading haybales or mucking stalls or something. Guess I gotta give him credit for being willing to try… “I also have a wagon,” he added in a sudden rush. “Just… So you know.” “Oh! Well… Good! I love wagons!” I’d never been on a wagon in my entire fucking life.
