“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go.”
FORTY-NINE
“Admit it,you’ve got a thing for Betty.” Summer threads her fingers through my hair, twirling the strands absentmindedly.
I look over at her in the passenger seat of her restored Bronco.
She smiles. “We can share her.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m aonewoman kind of guy.”
“Now that’s not true… you’ve got meandGracie.” She props her feet up on the dash, the night air blowing her hair in every direction. Fuck. She’s beautiful. And all mine. I’m not sure that’ll ever grow old.
I focus back on the road. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Are we going to the pond?” She reads a mile marker as we pass it. “This looks familiar.”
“No. But it’s around the same area.” I would’ve brought her back there, but this spot has a similar feel without the hike in.
She hums. “Today was a good day, right?”
“The best.” Though I’d classify every day I spend with her that way.
Summer had her own surprise planned. The moment I handed her the keys, she drove us into the city.
Our first stop was Citgo, where she decided we’d do a Gatorade flight—yes, apparently that’s a thing, though I’m pretty sure Summer made it up—while she pumped her gas for the first time. The bottles are now rolling around the backseat, still mostly full.
Then we went to Sully’s and played a game of Scrabble. I let her win.
After that, a kiss in front of the Bean. A kiss that didn’t have to be hidden, even with Summer’s fans taking pictures.
It felt so damn good.
I glance over at her again, her feet still up on the dash, head tipped back against the seat, humming along to the radio.
I didn’t know I was missing this until she showed up. The ordinary, unremarkable shape of a day spent with someone you love.
I slow the truck, looking for the road that’s hard to spot until you’re right up on it. I signal, then turn in, spinning the dial down on the radio. The crunch of gravel, the chirp of crickets, and wind through the trees fill the quiet.
“I think it’s a bit late for a hike,” Summer says, sounding very skeptical. “Unless you brought headlamps… still, I’m not sure how into that idea I am.”
“Don’t worry. No wilderness excursions in the dark.”
I follow the service road all the way to the lake, and after passing a copse of trees, find the lot empty. I park near the sandy shoreline.
The sun set about thirty minutes ago, so we’ve still got time before the sky is dark enough. With less light pollution, this spot should be even better than what we could see from our balcony.
I tilt my head up, but before I can search for stars, Summer tugs me toward her, her hand still tangled in my hair. “Oh, I like where your mind’s at,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my lips, and all other thoughts disappear.
I kiss her, then chuckle. “My intentions were much more romantic than that.”
“You know what they say about good intentions.”
“I’m not sure I do. Tell me.” But I bring my lips down on hers again before she can answer.
She shakes her head and mumbles, “Doesn’t matter.”
I reach for her, but the center console keeps us apart. She makes a small sound of frustration. The need between us has been there since December and hasn’t let up.
