My heels sank in the grass, so I stooped to remove them. “Love in the Time of Collars,” I said. “Featuring Sandra Bulldog and DroolBarrymore.”
He stopped to wait for me. “Don’t forget Tommy FleaJones.”
“Titanic,” Isaid.
“Titanic? I don’t get it . . . oh, wait.” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Kate Winsletthe dogsout?”
I resumed walking in my socks. “There’s no play on words. I’m just wondering if you like thatmovie.”
Realization crossed his face. “Damn it. I know what you heard, and it’s not true. Justin claims I cried, but the truth is that I have an inordinate number of eyelashes. Sometimes they cause trouble in the eye-wateringarea.”
“Sure.” I grinned, squinting ahead. “Looks likeYou’ve GotMail.”
“For the record, I requestedLady and the Tramp,” he said, “but that only got me the side-eye.”
“You didnot.”
“I one-hundred percent did.” At the edge of the crowd, he stopped and set down the picnic basket. “Made some last-minute calls and said it was for a piece I was working on. SoYou’ve Got Mailfeels like a huge ‘fuck you,’ to behonest.”
My laugh came out sounding awed. He had this dating thing down to an art. I could almost convince myself this felt real to him too. “Seriously, where’d all this comefrom?”
He unfurled a blanket onto the grass. “Never ask a magician for a peek behind thecurtain.”
“I’ve never had anyone go to these lengths for a date.” I squatted to pull the edges taut, and my words hung in the air. Maybe I should’ve kept that to myself. “I mean, the thing is,” I continued, testing the waters, “we could probably end the date now and have plenty ofmaterial.”
“Not unless you’re sick ofme.”
I smiled inwardly. “If I wasn’t sick of you four hours in, I wouldn’t be aftersix.”
“I’ve never been on a date this long.You?”
I stuck each of my boots on diagonal corners of the blanket. “Only if you count weekendgetaways.”
“With your ex,” he guessed, opening the basket. “Never done that. Now, I can say my first getaway date was a trip toGreenpoint.”
“Sorry, but mock dates don’tcount.”
“Ah, I see,” was all hesaid.
Thankfully, the dogs were already lying in the grass, half asleep. Bruno needed rest. Today had been more activity than usual for him, and his heart condition was never far from mymind.
Sebastian passed me the second blanket. “It’s gettingchilly.”
I sat cross-legged and covered my lap with it while he unpacked a bottle of red wine. “This is from that stash the Spanish vineyard sentover.”
“For the natural wine piece?” I took the bottle from him and read the label. “Looksfancy.”
He sat next to me. “The most impressive part is that I remembered acorkscrew.”
I looked up. “Since I’ve been with you all day, I can only assume you packed this before coming over this morning, which wasrisky.”
He pulled out several takeout containers. “Howso?”
I tried to peek at the contents, but the lids had steamed over. “Considering our history,” I said, “it would’ve been a safe assumption that I might not have agreed to help you today. What if I’d slammed the door in yourface?”
“I wasn’t taking no for an answer.” He took the plastic top off some mixed greens, and my stomach grumbled at the promise of food. “I’m persistent,” he said. “Irresistible quality number four. Or was that five? I’m losingcount.”
Sebastian had known I’d say yes. In truth, I hadn’t put up much of a fight. He and I had butted heads since practically the moment we’d met, and yet I’d given up a Sunday to go out with him. Was that romantic, I wondered, orfoolish?
