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The moment Marissa stepped out of her SUV, I knew that keeping my hands off her would be almost impossible. A painted-on pair of jeans and an oversized shirt. The skin of her right shoulder calls to me as the tips of her hair brush against it, taunting me, begging me to thread my fingers through it and pull her head back, taking her mouth once again and claiming it as my own.
“I thought you were taking me to dinner,” Marissa questions, with confusion written on her face.
“No. I said we would go on a date. You assumed it would be something boring, like dinner.” I smirk as I turn left onto my street. “We’re going to my favorite place.”
“Your parents’ house?”
I chuckle darkly. “You aren’t wrong. I love my parents’ house, but this is a special place for me.”
The old farmhouse sits on the edge of town, tucked back away from the main road, making it the perfect place to have some alone time with my girl. It sits on 6.5 acres of land with fruit trees, grapes, and a barn. Based on the pictures of the inside, I can tell there’s a root cellar that could easily be turned into a wine cellar instead and a huge gourmet kitchen with a gas range and coffee bar.
“I’m going to own this place someday,” Marissa whispers in awe as I pull down the driveway, coming to a stop right in front of the house. “I’ve been dreaming about buying and raising a family in that house since I was in my teens. I’d planned on owning it by now, and maybe also having a few kids, but …Well, you know what happened.”
“It seems we have more in common than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“I also have always wanted to live in this house once I graduated from college. I had it all planned out. I would work with my father and save every penny I earned in order to put a down payment on it. I know my parents never took me seriously, but it was fun planning for the future. Imagining what my future family would look like.”
“Are you like me and it looks nothing like you had planned?”
“I always imagined living in this house with you.” She gasps in surprise as I reach over and squeeze her hand before opening my door, stepping out, and jogging around to open hers.
“Milady.” I bow, making a sweeping motion toward the front of the house.
The two-story plantation-style porch wraps around the entire house. Oversized windows cover most of the front side of the house, each framed with black farmhouse shutters and an array of bright-colored flowers below them, welcoming visitors.
Her mouth drops in shock as the trees around the house light all at once as the sun drops behind the horizon. “I remember how we used to sit outside in the backyard of your parents’ house when we were younger and count the stars. I figured what better way to make tonight special than to make my favorite house light up like stars while I have a picnic with my favorite girl.”
“What are you talking about?” Marissa says in wonder as she looks around the front yard of her dreams.
“I may not have known this was the house you wanted to raise a family in, but I remember almost everything you ever said to me, sugar.” I step closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. “But I can’t take credit for everything. I had a little help.”
“Shelly?”
I nod my head. “Nolan helped, too. I owe them both big time for the work they put in, helping me get ready for tonight.” I bury my nose in her hair, and the smell of strawberries overloads my senses. “I just wanted to do something special for you. Something that you’d remember and share with our children when they’re older.”
“Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself?”
“Maybe, but you and I are a done deal.” I wink before threading my fingers through hers and pulling her back toward the truck. “Now, let’s grab the blanket and picnic basket from the back and dig in. Shelly worked all afternoon to make us this feast.”
She gives me a bright smile before reaching into the bed of the truck and grabbing the blanket. “Is there an extra piece of cake in there?”
“You have an entire one back at the bar.”
“But that one’s mine, and she said I didn’t have to share. Also, that’s at the bar and not here.”
“True. That’s why there’s a piece in the basket. For each of us.”
“I can’t wait to see what else she packed for us,” she says in excitement, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet.
“Whatever you say, sugar.” I chuckle softly, pulling the basket out of the bed of the truck and heading towards a flat spot under the twinkle lights.
Marissa doesn’t waste any time laying out the blanket on the ground and digging into the basket of food Shelly made for us. Instead of acting on my desire to have her pinned beneath me, I focus on getting to know more about her.
In between mouthfuls, Marissa asks me every question she can think of to avoid having to talk about whatever this is between us. She tells me her favorite color is phlox, which I wasn’t aware was an actual color. It’s a specific color purple that can only be found in flowers. The color is named after the pink and purple in some of those flowers. She’s always seen herself as a mother, wanting four children, preferably two of each, so they have built-in playmates.
The more we talk and spend time together, the more she lets her guard down, letting me see the real her she’s kept hidden from the world. I don’t know if she notices or not, but I won’t take this gift for granted.
