the bowl of fresh corn kernels and the dry ingredients on the counter, he decided not to mix them with the butter and milk yet. First, he’d wait a little. Learn to believe in miracles. Though it was getting on toward eight-thirty, it wasn’t too late for her to darken his doorstep.
As she drove northward on Route 89, which seemed a lot less familiar after dark, Kyra was having second thoughts. What an idiot you are for taking his casual remark so seriously, she reproached herself. At the very least, you could have waited a few days…gotten more specific directions. He’s going to think you’re still crazy about him.
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