Page 54 of Slide

Chapter Fourteen

Lucy smiled at him, and he felt it low in his gut.

She stared out at the water. “It’s so beautiful.”

He wouldn’t know. All he could see was her. All he could think of was the way she’d been this morning while he’d moved inside her. No one, nothing, compared to the woman standing in front of him. This was becoming more and more apparent as the hours ticked by. But he already knew that, which was why every moment with her was equal parts euphoria and agony.

Damn, his throat felt tight as hell. He cleared it. “Yeah, I always thought it was a nice spot.”

She shook her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Nice? That word does not adequately describe this place.” She lifted her hand to shield her eyes. “Did you used to swim down here?”

“All the time.”

Her grin was back. “I say we eat then take a dip.”

He didn’t get a chance to answer, because she’d already taken the blanket out of his hand—the picnic blanket—and was laying it out on the ground. Lucy was right, this was romantic. He hadn’t planned for it—didn’t know the damn meaning of the word—he’d simply wanted to show her a place that was special to him before their journey ended.

She plonked down on ground, legs crossed under her. “So what did you get us?”

The light breeze ruffled her dark hair, eyes bright with happiness. It was good to see. She hadn’t looked like her old self since she’d been back. And, fuck, so much had changed in the last forty-eight hours that he’d give anything to know what put those shadows in her beautiful green eyes. Anything, to be the one to seek out the source and fucking annihilate it.

“Dude, I’m dying of starvation here.”

He’d been standing there staring at her. “Ah…yeah, just some sandwiches.”

She patted the spot beside her. “Well, come on then. Hand it over.”

For some crazy reason, he felt nervous. He’d never done anything like this with a woman. He was well aware that made him a major asshole and seriously pathetic. But he was kind of glad the one and only time he’d do stuff like this—romantic stuff—it was with Lucy.

Dropping down on the blanket beside her, he handed over the bag, watching as she pulled everything out and laid it down between them. It was a simple act, but he was damn near mesmerized by her. Gut in knots. They were like a normal couple, weren’t they? This was the kind of thing that couples did. Spent their night together, sleeping together, laughing, joking, fucking. Eating a goddamn picnic lunch together. This was the only taste he’d get of that kind of life. How many times would he hear about Lucy and some other guy after this was all over? How many times would he be confronted with it? Seeing her with boyfriends—one day a husband.

She picked a sandwich, leaned back on a hand, and looked up at the sky. “I wandered lonely as a cloud, that floats on high o’er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd, a host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she spoke, seeing the joy on her face. She grinned over at him and he felt it like a cheap shot to the chest.

“‘Daffodils’ by William Wordsworth,” she said then took a bite of her sandwich.

“You like poetry, huh?”

“Love it.”

Something about that hit him even harder. There were so many layers to the woman in front of him. So many. He wanted to know all of them, but that was for someone else, some other guy.

Her head tilted to the side. “You’re not eating.” She slid a sandwich his way.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his own hunger suddenly gone. But she was watching him and he’d already given away way more than he should have this morning. He’d all but admitted he had feelings for her. She hadn’t pressed, had accepted his refusal to acknowledge it.

Why did that bother him so damn much?

He picked up the ham and cheese, which Lucy had already unwrapped, and forced himself to take a bite.

“How old were you when you camped down here?”

“Fourteen, right up until we were in college, until I dropped out anyway. Then my aunt and uncle moved and so did John.” He shrugged. “We stopped coming.”

“You dropped out?”

“Ah…yeah.” Fuck, why did he have to go and mention that?