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I wrinkled my nose at the nickname.
“No?” He glanced between me and the road.
I shook my head. “You’re just not great with the names. You didn’t come up with yours, did you?”
His clenched jaw was all the reply I needed. Where was he taking us? Along a series of hard packed dirt roads, up a back mountain path.
“What’s the story there, with the name?” I’d asked before, and he’d always brushed off the question.
“You have to agree to the deal first.” Graham was taking his side. How gloriously, wonderfully silly.
“It’s not even your story. Fine.” I couldn’t help my grin as I let out an exaggerated sigh. “We’ll have a picnic. But only so I can learn things about you two.”
We pulled around a tight curve and came to a stop at the edge of a huge clearing that was native grass and wildflowers. It wasn’t really a park. It was like a tiny cove of amazing, tucked away in the mountains.
Graham grabbed a blanket out of the lockbox in the back of the truck, and Oz grabbed a cooler.
“So this was all spontaneous and you just came up with it on the drive?” I asked playfully as we laid out the blanket.
“No one ever said that.” Oz pulled me to sit next to him.
“The two of you have been talking—plotting even—with each other when I’m not around.” It was perfect. “And getting along enough to make plans.” I fit perfectly resting against Oz, especially with Graham on my other side.
“We have.” Graham reached into the cooler. He handed each of us a can of iced coffee, and extracted a bowl of fruit.
I caught a glimpse of more food, sandwiches maybe. “How long do you plan for us to spend out here?”
“As long as you want.” Graham popped the top on his drink and took a sip.
Oz set his can aside, and reached for the food. “This way, there are no excuses for checking in on anything.”
“It’s brilliant.” Better than cake or ice cream or long drawn out conversations about the most efficient bash scripts ever written in Python.
Oz set the bowl of fruit on the blanket between us, plucked a slice of strawberry out, and trailed it along my bottom lip.
I gasped at the light touch, and drew my tongue along the same path, licking away the sweet-tart juice.
He pushed the fruit into my mouth, and I drew his finger in with my tongue. His groan was more delicious than the fruit.
“Now that’s not fair.” Graham’s protest was playful. “We’ve been here less than ten minutes and you two are already at it.”
The corner of Oz’s mouth tugged up, and he faced Graham. “No one’s leaving you out.”
“No?” Graham challenged.
“Nope. I’m happy to feed you fruit, too.”
Uh, first, what? And second, hot. “Yes, please.” I didn’t realize I’d said the last bit out loud until Graham raised his brows.
Oz plucked a piece of melon from the bowl next, and pressed it to Graham’s lips.
It was alluring watching Graham react the same way I had. So that was what it looked like from the outside.
And Oz’s moan when Graham sucked on his fingers…
Wowza.
Pink crept up Graham’s neck, and he scooted back on the blanket. “You brought bowls or something, right?”
