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I left work a little after five and went back to my hotel to get ready. I wasn’t sure what Lincoln had planned, so I slipped on a purple sundress that would be nice enough for a fancy restaurant, but that I could also get away with at a dive bar.
Lincoln arrived right on time. When he helped me in his truck, I was surprised when I saw a blanket and picnic basket in the middle of the bench seat.
“What’s this?” I asked as Lincoln hopped in the driver’s side and closed his door.
He grinned. “A surprise.”
I hated surprises. Lincoln knew that and took it upon himself to surprise me every chance he got. I couldn’t help but smile as he started the truck. “Where are we going?”
“The lighthouse.”
My lips curved up. We had a lot of fun times at the lighthouse. “Really? We can go this late?”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “I figured we could sneak in for old times’ sake.”
Shaking my head, I chuckled. “You’ve always been such a troublemaker.”
He reached over and squeezed my thigh. “And that’s one of the things you love about me.”
He was right. One of the reasons I fell in love with him was because he was spontaneous and free-spirited—the exact opposite of me. He didn’t care what people thought or about the consequences of his actions, which sometimes landed him in hot water.
The last time we were at the lighthouse after hours, the sheriff almost caught us. Luckily, we’d been able to lose the poor old man in the trees surrounding the beach. Otherwise, my parents would’ve probably grounded me for life.
That was the night I’d lost my virginity. We’d made love on a blanket in the sand with the waves crashing in the background and the stars shining above us. It was everything I could’ve hoped for, for my first time.
I looked over at Lincoln, and my chest tightened. He’d been so good to me, damn near the perfect boyfriend, and I’d been an idiot for leaving him. At that moment, I was so thankful for a second chance with him and with our daughter. And I’d be damned if I was going to fuck it up.
The drive to the pier only took a few minutes. The lighthouse was only reachable by ferry or boat, and Lincoln had a small skiff he’d had since high school. After we parked, Lincoln grabbed the picnic basket and blanket before getting out of his truck. He came around to my side and helped me down, then led me toward his old boat.
He kept our fingers linked as we walked, and even though his hands were so familiar to me, they were also different. His palms were calloused from working on the farm for so many years, not smooth like they used to be when we were young. The difference reminded me of how much time had passed since I’d left and caused a tiny ache in my chest.
Lincoln helped me get into the boat, then loaded all of our picnic essentials before finally getting in himself. As he tried to start the engine several times, I teased, “You have a thing for old methods of transportation, huh?”
The engine finally sputtered to life. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,” Lincoln replied with a wink.
I shook my head, suppressing a chuckle as we glided over the water toward our destination. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face as the ocean breeze skimmed over my skin, blowing my hair back. I hadn’t realized how much I missed my hometown until I actually came back.
When we reached the pier of Cape Lookout, where our lighthouse was, Lincoln docked his boat and helped me out. We made our way down the docks to the island.
“Have you been back here since I left?” I asked, glancing up at Lincoln.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “This was our special place. I couldn’t come back here without you.”
I squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. The fact that he hadn’t taken other girls to our special place after I left made my stomach flutter.
Lincoln led me to a picnic area on the beach near the lighthouse. As I glanced around, I didn’t see anyone else; our only company were the sea gulls pecking at the ground where the water met the sand in the distance. The sun was low in the sky, on its descent after a long summer day.
Lincoln set the picnic basket on a table and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of wine, two packages of meat, asparagus, and potatoes.
My lips curved up. “You’re going to cook for me?” I’d been expecting less refined picnic food like sandwiches, chips, and maybe some fruit.
He unwrapped one of the packages of meat, which appeared to be a nice cut of steak. “I am.” He grinned proudly. “Hopefully we can have dinner as the sun sets.”
Lincoln was such a romantic. I tried to remember a time when a man had ever cooked for me but wasn’t able to. The gesture was incredibly sweet, and my stomach knotted. I sat down, watching as he fired up the nearby grill, then seasoned the potatoes and asparagus before wrapping them in foil.
After Lincoln got everything going, he grabbed the blanket and laid it out on the sand a few feet away. He waggled his eyebrows. “For later.”
