Ashley gave her a snow shovel in 95 degree heat – “Happy Christmas in July!”

She gave her a bikini for the actual holiday  – “It was so cheap, I got a matching one!”

Then, she gave her flowers in a lightning storm – “The guy at the market told me I was nuts,” she said, wringing her sopping wet hair over the sink.  “But look at how beautiful they are.  The purples are so dark and rich.  And I love how the tips are just barely pink.”  A crash of thunder shook Spencer; Ashley laughed at the startled girl and kissed her quickly as she walked down the hall to get a towel.

“We’re leaving at 5, just so you know,” Ashley called over her shoulder.  The lights flickered as the sky lit up and the rumbling storm clouds felt like they were both under the floorboards and overhead.

“You can’t be serious about going out in this weather,” Spencer replied, setting the vase in the middle of the kitchen table.  “Ash, we can postpone dinner with my family.  It’s an hour drive and in this weather –.”

“We’re leaving at 5,” Ashley said firmly as she stepped back into the kitchen, a towel wrapped around her head.  “We have dinner at your parent’s house every third Sunday.  They’ve finally accepted that we’re living together, and that we’re engaged, and I do not want to get on their bad side before the bridal shower.  We need a new toaster.”  Spencer smiled.  Ashley had shorted out their old one after attempting to make breakfast for dinner over the weekend.

“Ash, look at it outside.  I can’t even see the barn.”  Ashley stepped over to Spencer to peer out the window.  The country – well, as much country as you could get in California – had been her idea, even though she was the most city-girl you could get.  The money from Ashley’s inheritance had been more then enough for a three-story house, seven acres of land, and a diamond ring that still made Spencer smile from head to toe.  They’d renovated the barn into an office for Spencer and a writing studio for Ashley.  Six cats and two dogs shared a tucked away corner lined with hay.  

Ashley wrapped her hands around Spencer’s waist and pulled her close, kissing her forehead.  Spencer snuck her arms under her girlfriend’s, resting her head on a wet, although warm shoulder.  “We’ll just drive slow.  And dinner’s at 630, so we have plenty of time.  And we’ll take the Prius – it warns us when it hydroplanes.  We’ll be fine.”

Spencer sighed, squeezing Ashley a little tighter, simultaneously putting a damp mark in the middle of her own shirt.  “Great.  Guess I have to change now, too.”

“Too?” Ashley asked.  “Who said I was changing?”  She stepped back from their embrace, putting one hand on her hip, the other extended and flexed above her head.  “I think the towel-wrapped head with matching cami could be the look of the season.”

Spencer arched an eyebrow.  “Um, my mother –.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ashley sighed, pulling the towel off her head and shaking out her hair.  “She doesn’t know fashion.”  Spencer just laughed as Ash skipped down the hall to the downstairs bathroom.  She turned and threw a wink over her shoulder before shutting the door.

That girl is such a contradiction, Spencer thought, shaking her head.  Maybe that’s why I’m madly in love with her.