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There’s a secret smile playing on Brad’s lips. “Well, no, I was down there with you.”
“You know what I mean!”
He walks over and takes one of those fluffy, white squares of sugary goodness and pushes it onto a skewer. “Here ya go,” he says, handing me the marshmallow skewer.
He prepares one for himself and comes to sit beside me at the fire.
“This is the best non-date I’ve ever had,” I admit quietly. “Thanks for tonight.”
Brad rotates his marshmallow before responding. “This is the best non-date I’ve ever had, too.” He pauses. “But what if it were an actual date?”
I can barely hear the crackling fire over the rapid beat of my heart. An actual date?
“I think I’ve burned my marshmallow,” I say nervously, unwilling to respond to his question. “It’s ruined.”
His mouth quirks up in the corner. “Nah, not ruined at all. The burnt layer gives it an added texture of yumminess.” He takes two graham crackers and a piece of chocolate and hands me the finished masterpiece.
“Mmm, this is so good,” I say after biting into it.
Brad’s eyes fixate on my mouth. “You have a little bit of chocolate on the side of your mouth. I never realized how messy you are,” he jokes.
My tongue darts out and licks the corners. “Did I get it?”
“Not even close.” He laughs and then removes his gloves. He leans in towards me and uses his thumb to remove the chocolate. Instead of the quick swipe I expect, it comes out as a soft caress. His eyes narrow and darken. My breath hitches in anticipation because this time, I’m sure he’ll kiss me. He puts his thumb up to his mouth and licks the chocolate off. “The best chocolate I’ve ever tasted.”
His silky tone sends shivers up my spine, and my mind sees him using his tongue instead of his thumb. I suddenly feel overheated in my winter coat.
“Brad?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to kiss me?” I whisper.
The question hangs out there for far too long. I know he wants to do it, but I sense his indecision.
“If I touch you, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop,” he admits. “Damn it, Winny, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this, of being with you again.”
I’m scared to admit out loud that I’ve had those same dreams of us being together. I’ve dated other guys through the years, but I’ve always unintentionally compared them to Brad. And when they didn’t measure up, I’d cut them loose.
Brad looks at the fire. When he turns back, I can tell he’s made a decision before he says a word. “It’s getting late. Let’s get you home.” He stands up and holds out his hand to me.
I say nothing as he leads me back to the waiting carriage, but my brain is running at warp speed. Brad pressured me to agree to go out with him. He went to all the trouble to set up this romantic outing, and now that I want more from our date, he wants to take me home. It doesn’t make sense. Talk about a crazy role reversal.
As the carriage starts the slow roll back to my apartment, I gather the courage to speak up. “Why did you do all of this for me?”
“I wanted to spend time with you,” he says simply.
“Yeah, but we could have gone to the movies or gone to dinner. Instead, you did all of this.” I wave my hand around, showing the horse and carriage.
He sighs and then looks at me. “As for the carriage ride, you once confided in me that you’d always wanted to do it. I knew you might try to get out of going out with me again, so I wanted tonight to be perfect in case it was our last time together.”
“You say those sweet things, but I gave you the opportunity to kiss me, and you turn me down. I don’t understand you,” I say irritably.
“You think I don’t want to kiss you? You think I don’t want to strip off all your clothes and spend the night making sure you never forget me? Because that’s all I can think of when you’re near. I have to remind myself I’m leaving in less than three weeks. I would hate myself for taking advantage of you and leaving you again.”
The carriage lurches to a stop outside of my apartment, and the driver jumps out to check on the horses. I have a feeling he’s giving us space to talk, and my face heats in embarrassment when I realize he must have heard everything we said.
“It’s not taking advantage if I know what’s happening.” My chest is tightening in anxiety because I know he’s about to leave for good. “You seemed eager for this date earlier tonight. What changed your mind?”
