Unwrapping Holly

“Alright, alright,” I laughed. “Hang tight. We’re almost there.”

It was another half mile before Fort Tyron Park came into view. We parked and continued on foot, me pulling Holly along excitedly by her warm, feminine hand.

“Wow, this place is gorgeous!” she marveled. Her head moved like it was on a swivel. “I never even knew it was here.”

“Not many people do,” I said. “It’s so far out of the way, it’s almost not even in the City.”

Cobblestone paths lead us deeper into the heart of the wooded preserve. The sounds of traffic and car horns seemed to fade with every step we took.

We walked the paths for a while, still holding hands. The two of us enjoying the silence, marred only by the steady sounds of our booted feet.

“Are you cold?” I asked, pulling her into me.

“No… I’m good.”

I could see her blushing, even through her rosy cheeks. Our fingers were interlocked, and when I squeezed she squeezed back.

“If you get cold, just tell me,” I said.

“Why, are you gonna give me your jacket?” she teased. When I didn’t answer she shrugged. “Hmm, I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Funny you should say ‘chivalry’.”

The path we were on opened up, and a long series of castle-like structures came into view. Holly’s eyes went adorably wide.

“Oh wow…” she breathed. “What are—”

“These are the Cloisters,” I answered. “A bunch of Gothic hallways and monasteries from Europe, dismantled in the 1930’s and brought all the way here.”

Her bright eyes scanned the ancient stones. They looked so foreign, so out of place, especially tucked away deep within New York City.

“C’mon,” I said. “Let’s go!”

For the next hour or so we wandered through all four of the open galleries, interconnected to form a square. In the center of the quadrangle was a lush garden that would undoubtedly be amazing in the summer. Right now it was still beautiful, but in a wintery way.

It was amazing to me, that such history could be taken apart and put back together half a world away. The interior was a breathtaking array of arches and pillars. Of colorful tapestries, stained-glass windows, frescoes and sculptures. Much of it had been decorated for Christmas, lending what could’ve been considered a cold place a warm, holiday feel.

Holly was a good sport, even when I made her stop several times to take different photos. I even took one of us — an adorable selfie, smiling cheek to cheek while I held the camera at arm’s length.

Eventually we stopped at their tiny cafe, for a pair of coffees. Relaxing at our little table, I was able to really give her the once-over. Unapologetically, too.

“This place is adorable,” Holly smiled. She threw me an accusatory look. “Maybe a little too adorable.”

“Oh?”

“I can only imagine how many first dates you’ve brought here,” she laughed. “I’ll bet it charmed the pants off every one of them.”

I pretended to look under the table.

“No wise-ass,” she giggled. “My pants are not coming off.”

“Not yet anyway,” I confirmed. “But please let me know when they do.”

She laughed again, and that was a good sign. Holly wasn’t just pretty, she was sexy too. There was a smoldering sensuality about her that I really liked, hiding just beneath her witty surface. All I needed to do was break through.

“So how many?” she shot back. “Two? Four? Six? A girl’s gotta know.”

“Actually,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair, “this is my first time here.”