Page 40 of Unscripted with Mila

“Road safe or protected from the world safe?” she asked, indicating the tinted windows.

“Both.”

“Do you like being an actor?” she queried.

“I love acting. I hate the world around it,” I admitted.

We drove in silence. I liked the fact that she was quiet. She didn’t fill the air with idle chatter. She didn’t even ask where we were going, instead trusting me to take her wherever.

She looked curious as I pulled off the road, guiding the SUV down a dirt path.

“Are you a serial killer? Planning on dumping my body?”

I chuckled. “Yep. And you fell for it.”

“Damn. I really wanted to finish that chapter.”

Then she gasped as the road opened up and the view appeared. The cliffs overlooking the ocean were one of my favorite places to escape to. She leaned closer to the window, gripping the dashboard and staring at the vista. I parked the vehicle.

“I brought a picnic. No one will see us, and we can be together.”

“It’s so beautiful.”

“I wanted to share it with you.” I paused. “I have never brought another person here.”

She turned and pressed her mouth to mine. “Thank you.”

I smiled against her lips. “You’re welcome.”

We climbed out of the SUV, and I grabbed the picnic basket and blanket from the back. I spread out the blanket on a flat piece of ground as Mila wandered to the edge, looking out over the ocean. I joined her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her back to my chest. “Not too close,” I murmured.

“Where I live is surrounded by water but not like this. It’s so wild. Open,” she breathed out. “Breathtaking. Inspiring.”

I was pleased. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We can explore a bit after. Come eat.”

She let me lead her to the blanket, and we sat down. Her eyes widened. “This looks amazing!”

I grinned. “I had a place I know make it.”

They had outdone themselves. We had small croissants stuffed with tempting fillings, chicken and avocado roll-ups, a mini charcuterie board, a pretty tomato salad, chocolate-covered strawberries, tiny cream puffs. A bottle of my favorite white wine, chilled. Napkins, utensils, everything we needed to enjoy the small feast. They’d even provided real glasses for the wine, and I smiled as I handed her the red rose I’d asked them to include.

Her blush was soft as she took it from my fingers. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the fragrance. She met my gaze. “Thank you for tonight,” she said simply. “I had a wonderful time.”

“It’s just started.”

“It’s already the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

I handed her a plate. “Me too, Shortcake. Me too.”

* * *

We ate and chatted. About nothing. The view. The small town she lived in and the family she grew up with. Our favorite colors. Ice cream. Her small feet. My larger ones. We laughed as we stretched out our legs, comparing them.

“Your toes are very long,” she observed.