So we sip wine and talk. It’s pretty easy to get Preston to talk about the favorite places he’s traveled, the places he’d like to go. He asks about places Rob and I traveled, clearly trying to get me to share more about my marriage, but I’m an expert at side-stepping these bombs, and after mentioning that we moved around a bit with the military, I turn the conversation to asking Preston more about his childhood and family, which he’s also eager to talk about.
It’s all nice and pleasant but I’m still tense, because I know that Nate, the man I really want to be on a date with, is somewhere behind those cameras. I’m becoming more and more sure that I need to find out his feelings, and less and less sure that I’ll have the courage to do it.
After a while of this, Preston gets a signal from someone over my shoulder and nods, setting down his wine glass. “Well, Becca, there’s one more surprise for us today.” He stands and holds his hand out. “Care to join me?”
I’m a little terrified a band is going to start playing and I’m going to be forced to waltz in the grass in a dress that is probably worth more than my car and about as heavy, but he leads me to a path that winds around a bend of trees to a large patch of craggy ruins—maybe from part of a castle?—which are gorgeous in the moonlight.
“Wow,” I say, taking it all in. “This is—”
And then fireworks explode across the sky above us, blues and greens and reds, the lights shimmering above us and dancing off the ruins. It’s breathtaking, and I can practically feel the cameras zooming in on my look of surprise, but I can’t stop looking at the sky. I’ve always loved fireworks.The Fourth of July used to be my favorite holiday when I was a kid, and my girls share my love of it.
I turn to tell this to Preston, whose eyes dip down to my lips, and then, before I can react, he leans in and kisses me.
I’m pretty sure my whole body stiffens, and I instinctively want to push him away, but oh my god, am I really going to be the girl who refuses to kiss Prince Charming right here onTV? I don’t want to embarrass him, not to mention myself. My lips go on autopilot, and it’s not like he’s a bad kisser, but my body feels like it’s closing in on itself, and I want to tear away and run to Nate and let him know that I don’t want to be doing this.
I pull back and break the kiss. It wasn’t very long, but I don’t think it will come across like I found the whole thing repulsive. It wasn’t, in and of itself.
But it wasn’t Nate.
Preston smiles gently at me, and I force myself to do the same back. He puts his arm around my shoulders and we look back up at the fireworks and I make myself count to ten before I glance to the side, where I can almost feel Nate’s presence, like I’m tied to him with an invisible string.
He’s there, and there’s this moment where our eyes meet, but there’s not even a ghost of a smile on his face. His jaw is hard, his posture stiff and hunched all at once.Then he looks quickly down, staring at the ground.
He doesn’t look at all like a producer happy to see that his planned date got the romantic result that he wanted. He looks like he hated every second of watching that.
I feel terrible and hopeful all at once. Is he really jealous? I mean, I don’t want to hurt him, but if he’s actually jealous, then that means—that means—
My heart is pounding so hard I think I can hear it above the fireworks, my mind flashing to that plan again.
Can I really do it?
Preston and I stand there until the fireworks die down. I guess the producers decide they aren’t getting any more kissing at the moment, so Mustache Dan calls Preston over for an interview. I see Nate saying something to Olivia, who nods. “Yeah, sure,” she says, then waves at me. “We’ll get your interview over here, Becca. Just let us get the lighting right.”
She and the cameraman discuss places for me to stand, and I see Nate start to walk away. My heart is beating in my throat and I try not to trip over my beaded skirt as I hurry over to him. I know I can’t actually say anything real here, but I want to saysomething.
After everything he did for me, making me this perfect day, showing how much he knows me . . .
“Nate,” I say, and he looks back at me warily. “I just wanted to thank you. Um. For letting me have that time withThea.” I hope he can hear how much I mean that; how it meant everything to me that he knew how much we both needed that. “I think it really helped her . . . get over some of her fear.”
His lips twitch up, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. I’m glad. I just—Olivia’ll do your interview. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, barely a breath, and he hurries off.
“Becca?” Olivia calls, and I head over to her, my mind spinning.
They get me positioned.
“So,” Olivia says with a teasing smile, “This was a pretty big date, huh? What would you say it meant to you?”
Everything from the day is shuffling through my mind—the incredible cooking lesson, the time with my girls, the dress, the fireworks—and it’s all framing itself around that hurt look on Nate’s face.
He does feel something. Maybe he feels everything I do.
That thought makes me dizzy. It makes me feel . . . brave.
“It’s the kind of date that says ‘I love you,’” I say without thinking.
My heart stops, and not because Olivia is practically salivating at the direction that can take the interview.
