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“Are we catching our own dinner?” I asked Donovan. We’d done it before, a long time ago, when the space between us wasn’t filled with what-could-have-beens.
“Maybe next time.”
Next time.
Oh lord. I’d hoped there’d be a next time.
“We’re set up over there.” He pointed to the right, where the beach stretched westward, bathed in coppery light.
Not too far away a white beach umbrella canopied a low wooden table surrounded by pillows. As we walked nearer, I could see the table was dressed with a linen runner, its ends weighted down by thick tassels. A brass lantern held an electric candle, its flicker barely visible in the golden lighting. There were also two vases of flowers, a wine bucket, glasses, and a silver cloche.
Nearer still, I could see the pillows had been set on largebeach mats, protecting them from the sand. There were two place settings, each comprised of a round braided-grass placemat, an elegant glass plate edged with gold beads, and a white napkin tied with a seagrass bow.
My heart tripped about. “You did all this?”
“Well, not personally, but I arranged it. Does that count?”
It counted.
As I lowered myself onto the soft pillow, he kept hold of my hand, only letting go when I was fully settled. I tucked my hands into my lap and tried to memorize every detail.
As far as dates went, so far this was pretty perfect.
“Wine?”
I nodded and he filled a glass and handed it to me, then filled his own and sat down.
This was my favorite time of day, this golden hour, when the sun started its descent. Along the waterline, the light caught on crushed shells and pebbles, making them glitter.
“Do you like it?” Donovan asked, his hand sweeping over the table and umbrella, then extending toward the beach and water.
A blue heron walked lazily along the shore on an evening stroll, and I was surprised it—and a dozen of its seagull friends—wasn’t creeping in on us, curious as to what was under the cloche.
“I do,” I answered honestly, suddenly feeling like I could cry. “I could sit out here all night.”
“We could. If you want.”
I injected a teasing lilt into my voice and said, “I told Ava I’d be home by six thirty.”
He glanced at his watch, then laughed. “Then you’d better eat fast.”
Glancing around, I tried to soak in everything I could, letting it imprint on my mind, my heart. I was grateful that he hadn’t arranged for music to be playing. The sound of the waves and the calls of the birds were the song of my heart.
But suddenly I had the feeling he knew that.
He lifted the cloche with a flourish. “I hope you’re hungry.”
I laughed loudly at what he’d revealed—an assortment of fast-food burgers and grilled chicken sandwiches and onion rings and French fries, displayed neatly on a small cordless warming tray.
My doctor would have a fit, but I couldn’t have been happier.
“You seemed like you had your heart set on fast food, so…” He shrugged. “I aim to please.”
He aimed to please my heart.
I couldn’t wrap my head around the notion, but the heart he’daimed to pleasewas doing a weird dance in my chest, flipping and flopping like a fish out of water.
A boat sped by and laughter from its passengers carried on the wind.
