“Well, aren’t you prepared.” Chloe grabbed the blanket andfollowed him down the park’s sloped lawn, surveying the area. Down closer to the water, a couple rested on a bench, enjoying the sea view. A man tossed a Frisbee to his Labrador. And on the boardwalk in front of the waterline, joggers and walkers passed by.
He stopped under one of the live oak trees a good distance from the shore. “You sure we’ll be spotted from here?”
He shrugged. “If I’m wrong—and I’m not—we’ll take a stroll through town later.”
She had to trust that he knew what he was doing. This was his way of life, not hers. She spread out the blanket. “So what’s it like, living in a fishbowl?”
“Never a dull moment. But you gotta take the good with the bad. I love what I do and it comes with a lack of privacy. Every job has its problems. What’s the downside of writing?”
She considered his question as they settled on the blanket. She’d loved writing that story. It flowed from her imagination like spring water from the ground. After it was published, she enjoyed meeting readers and even doing the publicity circuit.
“Having the wrong actor cast as your male lead?” he guessed, eyes twinkling.
She hadn’t expected him to be playful. Charming even. Who was this guy? “There is that.”
He chuckled. “I think you might be the one keeping me on my toes, Anderson.” He unloaded the food, all of it packed in clear plastic containers.
She removed the lids. A salad with three kinds of greens, grated cheese, hard-boiled eggs, and grape tomatoes. A tub of mixed berries. A loaf of French bread. And chicken that was still warm and smelled as if it had been grilled. Her stomach rumbled as she inhaled the savory scent. “Youcook?”
“I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t remember reading about that in the tabloids.”
“My pretty face?” He flashed a smile. “No, I tell them as little as possible. Which might explain why they make up so much. I hope you like chicken. A lot of my friends are vegetarian, but I figured chances were good a southern woman would eat meat.”
“Bring it on. I love my proteins.” She dished out food onto porcelain plates while he poured them drinks in stemless glasses.
“Your rental must be very well appointed if it came with a picnic basket.”
“It is pretty nice, but I DoorDashed the basket.”
She laughed. “Of course you did.”
“What? Sometimes a guy just needs a picnic basket.”
“Most people simply run to Walmart.”
“Most people don’t have cameras following them around.”
“Fair point.” She went for the warm chicken first and nodded in approval. Definitely grilled and flavorful with bursts of lemon and thyme. She couldn’t believe he’d gone to all this trouble when he could’ve just grabbed it from the deli. Then again, those pesky cameras. She couldn’t imagine living that kind of lifestyle, but he seemed to take it in stride.
She swallowed the chicken. “My brother would approve.”
“Tell me about him. You two must be close, working together the way you do.”
“We’re only a year apart—”
“And that would make you...?”
“Twenty-five. Right, I guess you should know my age. How old are you?”
“Thirty-two,” he said. “Sorry, you were telling me about your brother.”
“Sean and I are close. He can be a pain in the butt, but he’s always there when I need him.”
“I always wanted a sibling. There was no one to play with in my neighborhood, and my school friends lived too far away.”
“Sounds kind of lonely. I’m grateful I had Sean growing up. But now that you’re an adult, I’m sure you’ve found lots of people to connect with. Your manager, for instance. How’d you meet him?”
