Chapter 6
“I think you should wear the dress, tesoro. All this ‘it’s a casual date,’ blah, blah. Do you think Sophia Loren would have worried about being too much on a casual date? No! She would have everything out in all its glory. You know I just told you the other day—”
“I’m only young once. I know, Nonna, it’s just that I told him casual, so if he shows up in gym shorts and a tank top, and I show up in the dress…”
“Then you’ll know he isn’t the man for you. Any man worth his salt on a first date would take casual in a way that does not mean tank top. And the dress is perfect for the beach. It’s been warm this week. You can move in it just fine to sit and have a picnic.”
She’s right, I can move in it. Whether I can breathe in it or not is another matter entirely.
The dress, as it’s known in my family, is somewhat of a legend.
I bought it for a summer benefit concert two years ago, custom-ordered and tailored to my measurements.
When it arrived, Nonna and I immediately tore into the package, oohing and aahing over the perfect fit, color, and cut.
It’s vintage inspired, flattering in all the right places, and features built-in boning, so there’s no need for a bra.
Despite my objections that it’s too fancy for this occasion, it is technically cotton…
Although the back features a lace corset and it’s a dress meant for afternoon tea, not a night on the beach.
Still, Nonna has a point. I look killer in it, hence the definitive moniker.
She knows she’s convinced me, and wastes no time lacing me up.
With my hair in a simple French braid down my back and just a light touch of makeup, I look like some Sicilian milkmaid dressing to seduce a sailor on the beach.
There’s no more time to second-guess myself, though, so hopefully I’m not about to freak Teddy out on the first date or make him think I’m high maintenance.
I am high maintenance, though, and my papa has never had a problem maintaining me.
He’s always said my standards need to be impossibly high so that he knows any man who can turn my head is worthy of me.
Whether that’s what’s happened, or he’s simply set the bar for how I deserve to be treated so high that no man will ever come close, I don’t know.
Nonna snaps me out of my reverie with a spritz of perfume I’ve never smelled before.
“What is that? It doesn’t smell like my Chanel.”
“No, mon tesoro, not the Chanel for this evening. This is my special blend, only for the most special occasions. It’s not produced anymore because the flower was going extinct, so they banned production.
The last time this bottle was spritzed was for your nonno’s funeral.
Before that, each of your births, and before that, your mama and papa’s wedding. ”
“Nonna! This is a first date with a random guy I know almost nothing about and have had like, one conversation with! This is not a special occasion!”
The glare I receive tells me I’ve gone too far, and I’ve earned full Italian grandmother disapproval.
“Elia Giulia Santori. I know a good feeling when I have it, and I have a good feeling about this one! When you talk about this man, your eyes light up in a way I’ve never seen. I can spritz my special occasion perfume as I wish!”
Her tone softens as she helps fasten my bracelet and necklace, then hands me my purse.
“You’re very strong, and you hide things very well, but I can see your loneliness, tesoro.
Even when you fill your days to the brim doing things for other people, you still must make time for yourself.
It’s going to need to be a strong, determined man to come in here and convince us he deserves you.
But I think he exists, and I have a good feeling about this one. No pressure.”
The “last warning to leave” alarm on my phone blares, and she squeezes my shoulders one more time before I grab my keys and my surprise.
All the green flags in the world won’t earn a guy my address on the first date, so we’re meeting at the beach.
I told Teddy I’d picked the address and would bring an activity for us to enjoy together, and he was responsible for the picnic.
I’m lucky the drive to my favorite secluded beach is a short one.
I barely have time to build up any nerves before I’m pulling into the small parking lot.
There’s only one other vehicle here, a big, shiny pickup truck, and if Teddy’s beaten me here, that means he’s at least twenty minutes early.
Good start, big guy. I pull in beside the truck, although I can’t tell if anyone’s in the cab because of its window tint.
Maybe I’ll wait a couple more minutes, then walk on the beach a bit…
A tap on my window scares the daylights out of me, and I can’t help the bloodcurdling scream I release.
“Ahh!”
A high-pitched screech answers, and I realize that it’s Teddy. He scared me, then I scared him, and now, we’re both staring at each other through my driver’s side window, hands on our hearts and laughing. I unlock my door, and he opens it, offering me his hand.
“I was just coming to open your door, but I’m so sorry I scared you. I thought you would have seen me com—”
The rest of his thought is lost to history as I step out of my car.
I assume the outfit is having its desired effect, but I’m just as speechless at the sight of him.
Casual, I told this man, and he showed up like he was about to shoot an ad for Acqua di Giò.
Straight-leg khaki chinos rolled to the ankle and showing off sand-covered feet.
So he did beat me here by a significant amount of time, if he was already on the beach…
His feet, well-manicured though they are, aren’t what hold my interest, though.
The white button-up he’s wearing is crisp, half tucked into his pants, and the sleeves are rolled up as far as they’ll go over his massive forearms. Two buttons at the top are undone, and I can see a hint of chest hair that I want to burrow into and lay my eggs for the winter.
And he’s…he’s wearing glasses. Oh my God.
“Ellie? Is something wrong?”
Shit. I’ve been staring at him even longer than he stared at me. To his credit, his look of concern is directed at my eyes, not my chest, which is heavily featured in this dress.
“Buttons!” That’s all I manage to squeak out, and I’ve never wished to be struck by lightning so fervently in my life.
Teddy immediately looks down at the two undone buttons on his shirt and tenses. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You said casual. I’m too buttoned up!”
The image of him unbuttoning two more buttons on his shirt will be burned into my retinas until the day I die.
I had almost convinced myself that his chiseled chest, big enough to hold three babies at once, was a figment of my imagination.
Or at least rose-tinted horny goggles, making him a million times hotter than is possible for a man.
Real life is better than my daydreams, though, and I must be ovulating because I want nothing more than to find a baby for him to hold right here, right now.
“There, now I’m a beach bum. I mean, not a bum. Just beach. I’m beach!”
I manage to close my mouth and focus back on Teddy’s face, and I see the moment he finally notices what I’m wearing.
“You look…”
A heroic effort from my beach bum shortens his perusal of my figure, and his eyes barely rest on my chest before snapping back to my eyes.
“You look beautiful. Is your dress vintage?”
Of all the things I was expecting him to say, that was definitely not on my list. I’m pretty sure he’s not gay, not with the willpower it seemed to take him to avoid staring at my breasts, but why would he…
“My grandma loves to show off all her old photo albums, and this looks just like what she wore back then. Although you look way sexier than my grandma did. Not that she wasn’t sexy. I mean, she’s a beautiful woman. Well, I don’t think she’s sexy, just objectively…”
The blush that had begun to creep up his neck is now in full force on his cheeks as he runs a hand through his hair.
I wouldn’t have thought a man who looks like this would ever be nervous around women, but maybe he really likes me.
Or maybe he just spends all day talking to computers and doesn’t get much human interaction.
“Thank you, you look very handsome yourself.” I grab the bucket from the back seat, and he immediately takes it from me so that I don’t have to carry it.
He’s curious about the contents, but I’m keeping my secret for now.
We start to head toward the beach, and he doesn’t have any picnic supplies, but maybe he wants us to walk a bit first before we eat.
“I’ll show you the secrets of the bucket in a bit.
To answer your question, it is vintage inspired. You have a good eye.”
His bashful smile is so cute that I don’t realize where he’s leading me until we’re almost there.
He runs his hand through his hair again, which I can already surmise is his favorite nervous tell.
Not that he needs one, with how readily he blushes.
Before I can feel self-conscious about how nervous I’m making him, I see where he’s led me.
Just a little way down the beach from the parking lot is the reason his feet were already bare and sand-covered when he met me.
Teddy has set up some sort of…picnic showroom? There are three distinct areas, each with a blanket down and various items already set up. The sun is just starting to set, and flameless candles of various sizes are placed on and around each blanket, along with lanterns.
The picnic closest to us is the simplest, with a red-and-white gingham blanket as the base. A simple wicker basket and cooler sit atop it, with paper plates and cutlery alongside plastic cups and tealights. I raise an eyebrow at Teddy, but he just shrugs.
“This one is pub subs and chips, with soda and beer in the cooler. I figured a true beach picnic might be up your alley, so—”
“How do you know what pub subs are?” Publix is a Floridian institution, and while they’ve expanded across the country, I’m not sure the tradition of grabbing subs from the deli and spending the day at the beach is well-known.
“One of my te…coworkers has put me onto them. Delicious, and he told me they’re perfect for the beach.”
“This is a strong contender, Teddy. I feel like Goldilocks, with so many choices. What’s that one?” I nod my head at the next setup, and he leads me over with an infectious excitement.
“So option two is a little more activity-based. I brought a charcuterie board—full disclosure, I bought it, I’m not talented enough to balance the flavors—and some games.
One of them is a really fun icebreaker game we played at work.
I added some different prompts to get to know each other.
Another is Candyland, which was my favorite as a kid.
Just in case you wanted to have something to do with your hands while we ate.
Although, based on the secret bucket you’ve been carrying, you might have the activity portion down. ”
He’s on a roll now, seeing that I’m not totally turned off by his enthusiasm and moving me toward the final section. “This is the fancy picnic that’s barely a picnic.”
What he says is “barely a picnic” looks more like a romantic beach dinner at an all-inclusive resort.
A pergola supports flowy fabric tied to each beam, and a table is set with real cutlery and a white tablecloth.
Tall candelabras hold tapered flameless candles, and silver domes cover several dishes set on a sideboard just beside the table.
“It’s steak, chicken, and fish with a Greek salad and vegetable sides. Plus champagne. In case you didn’t feel like eating on the ground, or you were wearing something as gorgeous as you are and didn’t want to risk getting dirty.”
He’s waiting for me to choose between the three perfect dates he’s planned and set up, and my heart melts as he gives me a soft smile.
“I don’t think I can choose. What do you say we grab those pub subs, the game you mentioned, and sit at the table and nibble on a bit of everything? They’re all perfect, though. You could have gone to one-third of the effort, and I would’ve been thrilled.”
He furrows his brows at me and fixes me with a look that makes me shiver. “I haven’t planned a first date in a long time. This can be your new setpoint for the bare minimum. I don’t anticipate ever putting in any less effort for you than this.”
Well, damn. I really don’t have anything to say to that, so I smile and gather my choices from each blanket before we make our way to the pergola. I open the jar with icebreaker prompts, but I can’t read a word on them.
“Did you handwrite these? Is this English or hieroglyphics?”
With a good-natured eye roll, he pops the champagne and pours us each a generous glass. “Very funny. It’s English, although I’ll have you know I did multiple school projects about Egypt as a child…”
Two hours later, the sun has fully set, we’ve eaten our way through all three of the picnics, and my stomach hurts from laughing.
Teddy has been a consummate gentleman all evening, catering to my every whim and even wrapping a shawl he bought for me around my shoulders when I got chilly.
He’s complimented me all evening in soft ways that aren’t about my looks, including how impressive it was that I finished off my whole steak.
When he said he loved that I enjoyed food, and I told him to just wait until I made him homemade pasta, his eyes lit up with a hunger that I swear wasn’t just for my spaghetti.
Our icebreaker game was light and fun, yet still allowed us to talk about our childhoods, pet peeves, and even a brief political discussion.
We’re clicking so well that I’m almost afraid I’m about to be pranked.
Or that he will utterly hate my surprise.
Once we’ve finished dessert, I decide to make my move.
My supply bucket is beside my chair, so I stand and start digging for the flashlights.
“Have you ever seen crabs on the beach?”
Damn, where are the flashlights? It’s been a while since I’ve gone crab hunting, and it seems my bucket has gathered non-crab-related paraphernalia, including at least one hockey puck from my messy brothers throwing their belongings around and using my bucket for their activities.
Even though I can’t see him, Teddy’s confusion is clear from his tone. “Have I ever seen…crabs?”
“Yeah, you know. Out on the beach late at night, fooling around, then bam! A crab!”