CHAPTER 41 – CASPIAN
We pull over by a quiet cove. No one has ever been here with me. Not even Cole. No one knows I own this tiny sliver of the shore. I’ve never marked it or fenced it off. I don’t mind others passing through or spending time here. I just like knowing it’s mine.
I grab the picnic basket and the blanket from the trunk.
“There’s a private spot over here,” I say, guiding Antonio down a narrow path.
“Let me carry something,” he demands.
I hand him the blanket. His warm fingers brush mine, and heat jolts through me. Antonio walks ahead of me, blanket tucked under his arm, hair catching the evening light.
I try to be a gentleman and not stare at his ass.
I fail .
(To be honest, I wasn’t really trying. It’s one hell of an ass. If brushing his fingers nearly gave me heatstroke, looking at that tight curve might just finish me off.)
I take a calming breath.
We settle by the lake, sunlight glittering across the surface.
Antonio’s more interested in the basket than the surroundings. He takes a strawberry and pops it in his mouth, sighing. It’s a soft sound. Pleased. Completely unguarded. My total and utter destruction.
“Did you bake these?” he asks, biting into one of Earl’s rolls.
His eyes flutter closed. He moans.
Jesus. I won’t survive this date.
“I’m not much of a baker,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
Antonio nods, distracted by the food, and blissfully unaware I’m silently unraveling.
He lifts the tall glass bottle.
“This water looks fancy. Is it something you usually drink, or are you trying to impress me?”
His frown is adorable. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too hard.
“I wouldn’t dream of trying to impress you with water. I just grabbed it.”
He nods again, then finds the lemonade. His mouth curves.
“I love elderflower .”
“It was either that or strawberry basil. Cole thought this one looked more elegant.”
“You can pour me a glass,” he says generously.
He leans back on the blanket, soaking in the sun. His wrists look delicate, though I know they aren’t. I’ve seen him balance plates like it’s nothing.
I’ve seen the quiet strength in him.
I pour carefully, acutely aware of how close we are. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.
He looks away, suddenly shy.
“Do you come here a lot?”
“Not so much anymore, but this place is special.”
“Why?”
He sips the lemonade, licking his lips. I try not to stare.
“This is good.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I say huskily. Then I clear my throat.
“I found this spot by accident when I was jogging along the shore.”
“How did it become special?”
Another sip, another pleasurable sigh. Another jolt of want.
“Breathing’s easier here,” I explain, almost surprising myself with that. I gesture around. “I have a great view at home, but this is different. I feel safe here. In the light.”
Antonio studies me carefully.
I feel like he really sees me—and understands what he sees.
“I get that,” he says quietly.
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
He flashes me a beautiful, brilliant smile.
“I—yeah.” Slightly flustered, I look at him. Properly and without hurry.
He takes a small sip, fingers curling into the blanket, knuckles pale under
the attention.
I think he feels this too—the connection between us, the strong pull.
That knowledge sends another wave of heat through me.
“You’re staring,” he says, half-challenging, half-nervous. All the way shy.
“You know what keeps happening?” I ask, my voice low.
He shakes his head, lips parted. His cheeks are flushed, but he lets me look at him. He’s not turning away.
“I forget to breathe when you’re this close.”
The sound he makes is not quite a gasp. It isn’t a laugh, either.
“You’re very smooth all of a sudden.”
“Makes a nice change,” I say, smiling lazily, even though my heart is pounding. Holding myself still takes effort. “Doesn’t it?”
“You’re going to be disappointed,” he whispers, gaze fixed on the lake, fingers still clutching the blanket. “I’m not exciting .”
Something hot and protective coils in my chest. How could he ever believe that?
“I think you underestimate the effect you have on me.”
He shakes his head like he’s determined to set me right.
“I’m very studious.”
I picture him bent over books, serious and focused. That mouth pressed into concentration. Desire flares, even stronger than before. I have never wanted anyone the way I want him.
“Good.”
Slowly, I let my gaze move over him, my pulse loud in my ears. When he finally looks back at me, I meet his eyes.
“I find that dangerously attractive.”