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“Around six thirty. I wanted to take you to the Sandy Island Club. Unfortunately, they are having a large wedding reception, and the dinner room is closed. There are only two restaurants in town I would consider. One has excellent food but a lousy atmosphere. And the other has a decent atmosphere but the food is only so-so. What’s your choice?”
“I pick food over atmosphere,” I say without hesitation.
“I agree. I’ll make a reservation for seven.”
I’m like a teenage girl getting ready for her first date on Saturday afternoon. I spend an hour trying on every item in my limited wardrobe. Now that I have some extra money, I should take the time to go shopping. I hold two dresses up for Conrad to choose from. One is cobalt blue with a high thigh slit, and the other is black with a V-neckline, skinny straps, and a flaring mini-length skirt.
He turns up his nose. “They’re both yucky. What’s the big deal? Why don’t you just wear blue jeans.”
“Geez. Some help you are,” I say turning back to the mirror. “I’ll wear the black. The blue is too dressy for a restaurant, and the black is . . .” I stop myself from saying sexy.
Conrad tilts his head quizzically. “The black is what, Mommy?”
I toss the chosen dress on the bed. “It can be dressed up or down.” I dig in my closet for a pair of black booties. “In this case, we’re going for casual.”
I’m not nervous about having dinner with Will. He’s easy to talk to, and I’m looking forward to getting to know him better. It’s the thought of what might happen after dinner that has my stomach in knots.
The Clam and Claw is crowded when we arrive, and even though Will made a reservation, we have to wait for our table. We order a drink from the bar, but it’s nearly impossible to carry on a conversation over the cacophony of noise.
When we finish our drinks and our table is still not ready, Will says, “Let’s get out of here. I have a better idea.”
“Fine by me,” I say and let him lead me out of the restaurant.
When we exit left out of the parking lot, I assume he’s taking me to his second choice, the place with better atmosphere but not so great food. I’m confused when he parks in front of the Fancy Pantry. “What are we doing at the grocery store? Are you planning to cook?”
“You’ll see. Wait right here. I’ll be back in a flash,” he says and gets out of the truck.
He returns a few minutes later with a large shopping bag. He gives me the bag to hold, and I peek inside at the chilled bottle of bubbly, a loaf of French bread, gourmet salami, artisan goat cheese, and a container of apricot ginger preserves. “A picnic is a splendid idea. But where are we going?” I ask as we cross over the Merriweather Bridge.
“Since we can’t eat at the Sandy Island Club, I figured we’d park at one of the public accesses and go out on the beach. We don’t have a blanket. I hope you don’t mind eating standing up.”
“We can swing by my cottage. Or better yet, why don’t we just go to my cottage.”
He glances over at me. “I thought about that. But I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
“Not at all. I’d prefer to eat sitting down,” I say flashing him a mischievous grin.
At the cottage, I search for suitable glasses while Will pops the champagne. He pours some bubbly for both of us, and we clink glasses. “To first dates,” he says.
“To first dates,” I repeat. “A picnic is way more memorable than a noisy restaurant.”
He leans down and kisses me. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you in that dress. You look spectacular.”
I flutter my eyelashes at him. “Not too much like a boy?”
“There is nothing boyish about you tonight.” Setting our glasses down, he pulls me close and presses his mouth to mine. Our lips part and tongues meet, and the earth falls out from beneath me. Will smells like fresh pine air, and his body is rock solid against mine. I feel myself getting lost in him, and I’m disappointed when he draws away.
“We should have our picnic before we get carried away,” he says, breathless.
“Good idea. I’ll find us a blanket.”
I locate an old quilt at the top of Conrad’s closet, and a cooler in the pantry for the champagne. We take our provisions out to the beach and set up our picnic near the dunes. Even though we still have an hour of daylight left, the sky is already golden from the setting sun.
“Did you ever live in Texas?” Will asks as he slices the salami on a small cutting board.
A shiver travels my spine. “Texas? Why do you ask?”
“I thought I remember you saying you moved here from Colorado, but Conrad told Ashton you are from Texas.”
