“Are you afraid of paint?” she asked, as she climbed into the old truck whose paint job consisted of nothing but primer.
“Are you laughing at my truck?” he asked with a shy smile and one dark brow raised.
“Oh, no! Not at all. I’m just wondering why you stopped at primer. I seem to recall it was this same ugly gray primer before I left for school. Granddad says Chief keeps it running like a top—so, why not finish the job and get it painted?”
“Now you are going to laugh at me,” Blade cringed as she made a face. “I can’t decide what color to paint her,” he confessed quietly and turned the key in the ignition.
And she did laugh and laugh and….
“I’ll tell you what, Beth. You last the whole month and I’ll let you pick the color.” Then thinking it over, he realized he may have gone overboard. “As long as it’s not pink or something like that!”
And the laughing started again. “You’ve got a deal, Doc!” She slouched down in the seat and made herself comfortable for the drive to the Double R, still laughing as they pulled out of the clinic’s parking lot.
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