I laugh. “Such a man answer, but you’re right. So…where are you taking me?”
He smiles. “I have something special planned. I’m glad you wore comfortable shoes with your dress. It is going to be a bit of a hike.”
I hug his arm around me as he starts walking around the clubhouse.
As we walk through the woods, we chat about nothing and everything at the same time. I feel like every time we are together, I learn more about him, yet I feel like I will never know everything, and trust me, I want to.
The walk isn’t long, only about fifteen minutes or so. When we come to a lake, I smile at how beautiful it looks. It’s a chilly evening, but the sun is still out, giving us the last bit of its warmth.
In the middle of the lake are several floating candles, but none of them are moving.
“How are they so still?” I ask.
He smiles. “Magic.”
I laugh, my head falling to his shoulder.
“It’s so pretty,” I whisper.
“I have them anchored down. The lake isn’t that deep, so it wasn’t hard. I didn’t want to start a forest fire, so I figured that was best,” he tells me.
“It’s perfect.”
He leads me over to a floating swim raft with a fire pit tied to the side, the fire adding to the warmth. I hold his hand as he helps me on. Once on, he slowly paddles us out to the candles before anchoring both us and the fire pit.
Then he takes a seat, patting the spot next to him. Pulling off his cut and shirt, he lays them to the side in a small compartment that looks waterproof. Then he lounges back on the pillows laid out.
I take the seat next to him, handing him my shoes as I take them off.
We both get comfortable as he pulls a comforter over us. I cuddle in next to him as I stare at the darkening sky.
“This is perfect,” I tell him
“You are perfect,” he tells me.
I turn, looking at the tattoos on his chest. I have seen them before, but something catches my eye.
“What’s this? This is new.”
He smirks down at me. “Is it?”
I glare at him as I lean up and look closer.
My breath catches when I realize what it is.
It’s a small bird with its mouth open as if it is singing. It perches on a chain that is hooked to an anchor. In script, my name is spelled out.
“Asher,” I gasp, my eyes tearing.
“You’re my songbird, and I will always be your anchor,” he murmurs, reaching up to cup my cheek as I stare down at him.
“I have no words,” I whisper.
“I don’t need them. Your face tells me how you feel. I feel it too.”
I don’t know how, but this man has taken my entire world and shifted it on its axis until I only revolve around him.
I can’t be mad at it, though.
