“I’ve got this.”
He pulled a large cooler out of the bed of his truck followed by a smaller one then started unpacking it at the table under the tree. I laughed as he draped the table in white linen and lit a candle in the center. My nerves started to ease a little more as he took special care to set everything just right.
Don’t get too comfortable yet, Whitaker. There is a thing called premeditation.
“I hope you brought your manly appetite.” He placed an assortment of meats and cheeses on the table, along with shrimp cocktail and a ton of fruit.
“A picnic at night?”
“Why not?”
“You are certifiable.”
He winked then continued the task of setting up the table. “Name one date that you’ve been on that’s been more romantic.”
“Threatening a girl with molestation in her bed to get her to go out with you is not romantic.” I took a look around and realized he was right. It was absolutely perfect outside. The full moon illuminated what his small candle did not. Wasting no time, I devoured half of the cheese platter then downed an ice-cold beer.
“You serve beer instead of wine. I love it,” I complimented as I let out a throaty moan and devoured half of the shrimp. I didn’t realize he was staring at me, mouth gaping, until I was on my second beer.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, woman, how the hell do you eat like that?” He lifted the table linen, looking underneath as if I hadn’t just eaten my weight in food and was somehow hiding it.
I gave him a toothy grin. “I always have.”
He turned the empty cooler upside down as if to poke at me some more. I smiled and started on the fruit. We made light conversation, and after a few minutes of silence on his part, I looked up to see him eyeing me.
“You...are beautiful.”
I gave him a wary glance, looked down at my jeans and sweatshirt then back up to meet his eyes.
“It doesn’t matter.” He sipped his beer and grabbed my hand. I let him hold it and felt the glide of his thumb as he stroked the top of it. Warmth spread through me, and I welcomed it. It had been so long since I felt a man’s touch...way too long. I decided to entertain him, even if it was just for the night.
Tension began to ease out of my shoulders a bit as we spent a few comfortable minutes in silence, listening to the wind breathe through the tree above us. It was slightly cooler now than it was when we’d first arrived.
It was heaven.
“Do you like it out here?” I shifted my attention away from the pond to capture his candlelit face. His eyes were smoldering, and I could feel the constant undercurrent between us. The source was an undeniable attraction. It excited me as much as it scared me.
“Yes, it’s breathtaking,” I answered, grabbing a fresh beer.
“Good, I’m going to build a house out here. I want you to like it.”
“Grant, you can’t really think that we’re getting married.”
“Why not?” He shrugged his shoulders and sat back in his seat, sipping his beer before he continued. “Maybe it’s not as common as it was back in yesteryear, but things like this—” he pointed between us, beer in hand “—do happen and I’ll prove it.”
“How?”
“I’ve already started.” He grinned, and with that grin my pulse picked up. I entertained the idea of those full, curved lips covering my body.
“It’s ridiculous. I hardly know you. In fact, I know nothing about you.”
“I was born here, raised here, by my mother that died a year ago. I was not a nerd like you. I played football. I dated...a lot...until recently. I’m twenty-nine. I work on airplanes as a mechanic, and I smoke weed. It’s my only vice.”
I spit out my beer, laughing harder than I had in months.
“So...you’re a pot head?” I noted, my chuckle slowing.
“No, I smoke weed. It relaxes me,” he defended weakly, but not in a way that made me believe he gave a damn what I thought about it.