He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I figured if we’re going to get to know each other again, we might as well do it in style and without interruptions.”
He lifts the basket onto the blanket between his legs before opening the lid. All of my favorite treats are inside: his mama’s cookies, fresh lemonade, sandwiches, and leftover fried chicken. All the things that have been absent from my diet for the last decade or so, partly because nobody does it better than Mrs. Wilde, but also because it’s just not the “done” thing in Nashville.
“Well, it sure doesn’t look like you need to get to know me when it comes to the food I like,” I tease, taking the cup he holds out for me.
Our fingers brush, and I let my touch linger for longer than I should. His eyes flick to mine, something unspoken but familiar passing between us.
With his attention back on pouring out a generous glass of lemonade, I allow myself to breathe as he replies, “Some things you don’t forget, no matter how hard you try.”
An ache forms in my chest, even though I know what he’s saying is the truth. I felt it, because no matter how much I tried to move on from him, he was always at the forefront of my mind. Always the man I compared anyone else to.
I moan around my first bite of the club sandwich, closing my eyes and tipping my face up to the sun as I chew. Remembering where I am, I look over at Grayson as he watches me with an amused smirk on his face. “It’s really good.”
He chuckles, pulling off a strip of chicken. “I couldn’t tell.”
Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I ask, “So, what’ve you been up to?”
Gray exhales heavily, setting his plate down on top of the basket. “Now that’s a loaded question. Ever since Dad passed, I’ve been more involved in building out the ranch as a business than working the land.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. My mom told me, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” Sincerity coats my words. I’d always had a soft spot for Mr. Wilde because he treated me like one of his own children.
We fall quiet for a moment before Grayson runs a hand over his jaw and says, “I reached out.” My brows pull together. “When he passed. I reached out, but didn’t hear anything from you. Figured you’d changed your number or something.”
My voice is soft when I reply, “I didn’t get anything. God, Gray, you have to know that if I had, I’d have been here in a heartbeat.”
He runs his hand through his hair, nodding. “I know. You were chasing your dreams, Ave. Yeah, I was heartbroken that you left, but the older I get, the more I realize that I can’t blame you for that. Shit, look at all you’ve accomplished.”
I scrunch up my nose and look out at the mountains. “Look at all you’ve accomplished too, Gray. I wanna hear all about it.”
We eat and talk; he updates me on what he’s done with the ranch to make it into the empire it is today, including leasing land to other ranchers, sponsoring the rodeo, breeding cattle and horses and signing contracts with some of the biggest ranches in Texas. He talks about his plans for the future, how he wants to delegate more to Wyatt and Kade so he can focus on the part of ranching he loves: working the land. I tell him about Nashville, the lowest of my lows and the highest of my highs. It feels like he really listens, taking in all I’ve worked for with an air of respect. The resentment he had for me leaving never creeps in.
“I came home because I lost the spark. The music wasn’t making me happy anymore, and if I’m being honest, it hasn’t for so long,” I admit, watching a butterfly nearby. “For the first time in a really long time, I’m starting to feel like myself again, and I think that was what I needed for this upcoming tour I have.”
Grayson tips back his drink and crosses his ankles. “Are you going to leave soon? Now that you’ve found that spark again, do you think you’ll stick around a little longer?” His tone is light, even curious, but the air suddenly feels charged, like whatever is happening between us is dependent on the answer I give.
Turning to face him, I wait for him to meet my gaze before responding. “Obviously, I have to go back. I have to do this tour, not for me, but for my fans. What comes after that is anyone’s guess. But I have a little bit more time before I need to leave.”
He gives a firm nod before diving into the basket and pulling out a tub. Popping off the lid, he holds the container out for me, and I take one of the chocolate chip cookies inside.
“I’d still like to do this, though.” I wave the cookie between us. “Go on more dates before I leave. If you’ll have me?” I look up at him from under my lashes, my breath stuck in my throat as I wait for him to speak.
I see the flare of surprise mixed with excitement in his blue eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows before replying, “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, Ave.” His voice is gruff and laced with desire.
Warmth floods my cheeks, and I search for something to say that won’t end with me climbing into his lap.
“I wrote a song this morning, my first one in over a year,” I say, my chest relaxing as I finally tell someone about it. I’m glad it’s him that I get to share this with.
He leans back on his elbow and watches me with a look so soft it could unravel me. “Yeah?”
I nod, staring down at my lap before meeting his gaze. “Yeah. It was about us, about our story.”
“Maybe one day, you’ll play it for me?” His tone tells me that even if I say no, he won’t press me. He’ll respect my decision, even if he doesn’t understand it.
Picking off a piece of the cookie to give myself something to look at rather than hold his intense stare, I whisper, “One day.”
Our conversation soon turns to reminiscing about the trouble we used to get up to, and before we know it, the sun is dipping lower in the sky.
“Ready to head back?” Gray asks, a hint of reluctance in his tone that matches my own feelings.
