Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I’m a bit of a rule follower.”
“And I’m a bit of a rule breaker.” He opens his door and steps out. “We make a good pair.”
Peering inside the cab, he studies me for a moment. “We’re not going to wreck anything. We’re not even sneaking into the park. Just two would-be visitors turned away at the gate, looking for a lunch spot.”
He’s right. I’m being silly. “Okay.”
He shuts his door with a quiet thump. I reach down and grab my purse, digging through it for a lip balm and quickly swipe it over my lips, then tuck it in my pocket.
My door opens and Dex holds out his hand. He’s so sweet. In a scowling, wide-shouldered, protective hero sort of way. Strength and confidence always seem to radiate from him.
His big, warm hand closes over mine and he guides me down from the truck. “So where is the picnic?” I ask.
His gaze roams over me, like I’m the one on the menu for the afternoon. Then he meets my questioning stare. The corners of his mouth lift. “Right here.”
He opens the back door and pulls out what looks like a backpack and a fuzzy, red-and-black plaid blanket. He slings the bulky pack over one shoulder and holds out his hand. “Tell me when you see a place that looks comfortable.”
I’m still worried we’re going to get yelled at for sneaking onto someone’s property, so I search for a clear spot close to the truck.
“There?” I point to a large gray rock, covered in moss. A beam of sunlight stabs through the canopy of branches, lighting up the area.
“Looks good,” Dex agrees.
When we reach the rock, Dex spreads out the blanket, and I realize he’s actually brought two blankets. He folds the other one into a square for us to sit on. “Extra padding,” he explains.
“Smart move.” Even with the layers of blankets, my butt feels every bump of the cold, hard ground beneath us. I tip my head back and stare at the light-blue sky through the branches. “It’s so pretty. And peaceful here.”
“You’d like our main clubhouse.” He scans the trees and grass around us. “It’s on a lot of acreage. Kinda like this place.”
“Why didn’t we picnic up there?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to. Everyone would be in our business, for one thing.” He reaches for the backpack and unzips it.
One by one, he pulls out sub sandwiches wrapped in white paper, side salads, utensils, paper plates, and a bottle of sparkling water.
He twists the cap off the water and hands it to me, then pulls out a lemon.
“You remembered I like lemons?” I ask, trying to force the awe out of my voice and failing. It’s a small thing, really. I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal out of it, but I’m touched. No one’s ever paid attention to my likes or dislikes before.
“You said you like them with everything.” He pulls a pocketknife from his jeans and neatly cuts a wedge from the fruit, holding it out to me.
“Thank you.” I take it and squeeze the juice into my bottle.
“And for dessert,” he announces, carefully sliding a clear, square box out of the bag, “lemon-lavender cream cake.”
“Oh my God.” I stare at the box, my mouth already watering. “That sounds amazing.”
He grins as if he’s happy he chose the right cake. “I wasn’t sure about the lavender part—”
“No. It sounds really good.” It’s just a piece of cake but the care he took in choosing everything touches me. I haven’t been on a lot of thoughtful dates. Well, any dates recently.
“I wasn’t sure if you’re a wine drinker or not, but I brought a bottle of white wine, too,” he offers.
“Sometimes, I do.”
He reaches inside the bag again and pulls out a bottle, then two stemless wine cups.
“These are pretty.” I pick up one of the cups, admiring the holographic shine in the sunlight.
He chuckles softly. “Trinity told me the color is ‘unicorn skin.’”
“Trinity…” I blink, recognizing the name. “I met her at Serena’s baby shower. She’s hilarious. You asked her for help with our picnic?”
He shrugs. “I don’t necessarily have to ask. Everyone always knows what you’re up to.” Any annoyance he might have about his nosy family is negated by the smile on his face. “I’m glad you get along with the girls.”
The way he says it almost sounds as if I passed some sort of test with his brothers’ wives. “They were all really nice.” I flick my gaze to the sky and smile. “And of course, my sister adores Shelby.”
He rumbles with laughter and hands me one of the sandwiches. “She’s hard not to like. Spent most of last summer out on the road with her. Rooster had a bunch of us working security for the tour. She’s genuine and down-to-earth. On and off the stage.”