God, the extent of what he do to prove this lady he was worthy of her. Dallas stared down at the notes he had composed, sickening sweet words embedded in the yellow post it.

He leaves it in his jacket pocket, huffing as he stares out the window of his truck. He had just gotten home from work, but he was sitting in the driveway, staring aimlessly at the house across the road, the one where he woman he was head over ass in love with resided.

He didn’t know what to do, what to say to her. For the past few months, she had eased into his presence, her growing trust for him feeling like a warm hug everytime he was reminded of it.

Last night, he had brought dinner over to hers. This morning, he had mowed her lawn. For three months, he had done aimless chores every day, just to help her. He didn’t know why, just knew it felt right. He was waiting for her, waiting for the day she’d wake up and realise just how dumb he was for her. For how much he craved her presence, her time, her affection.

Today, he gets out of his truck, paint littering his clothes. He knew he was dirty, knew he wasn’t a match on her, but a man could dream. He walks over to her door, knocking it. He could only thank fate, that fate had planted the woman he supposed he had spent his entire life waiting for, across the road from him.

He knocks, knowing she’ll answer. Yet when she does, he finds his heart in his damn throat. “Peach.” He murmurs, voice softer than damn butter. He doesn’t even know how it got like that. “Hi. Saw you were home. Thought maybe we could watch a movie or something.” He grumbled, reaching a hand up to scratch his buzzed head, grinning softly at the woman he adored. His baby. His sweet, gorgeous baby.