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“Because I haven’t had one before.” Eyes wide, he looked up from setting the sandwiches in the center of the blanket.

“You haven’t had a picnic before?”

“Well, we did an episode of Geek Chorus where there was a school picnic, but the filming was on set, and we weren’t supposed to eat the food.”

“That’s not a picnic.” My childhood had largely sucked, but at least I’d had one.

“Nope. And outside patio dining isn’t one either.” He set the backpack to the side and arranged our chips and drinks near the sandwiches. “You have to carry your food somewhere for it to be a picnic.”

“True. Most kids do it all the time.” I settled on the blanket in the corner opposite from him. “My friends and I used to raid the cupboards for random crap to take to the backyard or a park.”

“Mom didn’t like me playing outside. Too much risk of violating a contract provision about getting injured. The housekeeper never liked me taking snacks from the pantry either. And I didn’t exactly have the friends to make a picnic fun.” Daniel’s frown was enough to have me reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry.” My voice came out a little rough. One of these days, I would get a handle on the urge to touch him, but apparently, today was not that day.

“But this is fun now.” Beaming, he leaned into my touch. “I got some decent pictures on the walk here too.”

“That’s good.” I moved so I could see into the small screen on the back of the camera he was holding out, letting him scroll through some pictures of the cabin and the outbuildings and—

“Hey! You’re supposed to find interesting scenery, not take pictures of me.” I scowled at a whole series of pictures of me on our walk to the creek.

“You are interesting scenery.” He shrugged and kept right on scrolling.

“What’s so interesting about my back anyway?” I suffered through another few shots of myself before he came to ones of the creek and picnic area.

“It’s a good back.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “And if I’d gotten your frontside, you would have noticed the camera.”

I had to join him in laughing at that. “True.”

“Which sandwich is mine?” he asked, pointing at the two paper-wrapped packages.

“You said for me to choose.” I looked at the labels before handing him one. “Yours has cranberry chicken salad, so you have your fruit, and then every vegetable topping option they had minus onions and pickles.”

“Why minus onions and pickles?” He unwrapped his sandwich carefully, inspecting it with a critical eye before taking a little nibble.

“You didn’t eat the pickle Harley put on your plate. And last night, you left the onions in your soup bowl.” I took a bite of my own chicken bacon ranch sub.

“Oh wow. You notice everything.” Daniel sounded like he was trying to decide whether to be impressed or be creeped out.

“I’m generally observant.” I chuckled, then laughed more because it sure wasn’t true when it came to myself. “Generally.”

“Yep.” Daniel laughed along with me. “Speaking of…never mind.”

“What?” I paused mid-bite to frown at him.

“It’s just an idea I had. You said earlier how you need practice. I could be your practice.”

Good thing I’d paused my eating because I coughed on nothing more than air. “How do you figure?”

“Eventually, the cops will find my stalker, and we’ll go back to civilization. And someday you’re going to wrap your head around being bi enough to take it for a test drive, so to speak. And that’s where I come in.”

“Oh?” The single syllable was about all I could manage, even though there was a whole list of things wrong about his assumptions. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured kissing him again, and even when I tried to imagine other faces, my brain stubbornly refused. I wanted to test drive him. “What exactly are you getting at?”

His cheeks were shiny pink as he set his sandwich aside. “I can be your…driving lessons. If you want. Show you the ropes.”

“The what not to-dos?” I was joking, but he nodded earnestly.

“Exactly.” He dug his teeth into his lower lip, and fuck, now I truly was tempted. I didn’t need lessons, but I damn well might need him. I groaned, and that made him frown. “But only if you want. No pressure.”

“Why?” It spoke to how tempted I was by this crazy plan that I didn’t immediately shoot him down.

“Why what?” He picked at the edge of his sandwich.

“Why are you offering to kiss me again? What’s in this for you?” That was the part I didn’t quite get. He was a gorgeous young guy, and I was a grizzled old sailor. I didn’t want pity sex lessons.

“You. You’re in it for me.” He scooted closer. “Because I liked the first time and want to do it again, but begging for a repeat would go against my promise to give you space and be patient.”

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