52. （KIND）ling
JAE
52
This wasn’t just any date—it was the date that should have happened long ago. A night picnic on the beach, complete with a carefully selected assortment of her favorite foods. My nerves were shot from pure anxiety and lack of sleep, every detail feeling like it held the weight of the world.
I secured the best picnic essentials: a large blanket, plush cushions, and a selection of gourmet foods. I oversaw every detail personally, wanting everything to be perfect. I had lanterns and candles placed strategically to add a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere as the sun set over the water. The picnic basket was filled with fresh strawberries, gourmet sandwiches, artisanal cheeses, and a bottle of her favorite vintage wine.
As I arranged everything, my hands were slightly shaky. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this nervous. I was used to boardrooms and billion-dollar deals, not romantic picnics on the beach. This was how it should have been from the beginning—real dates, real moments, real connections.
When I heard her footsteps approaching, I turned and saw Verena walking toward me, holding her wedges in one hand and a bright smile on her face. She looked stunning in a summer dress that flowed around her like a soft breeze, its pastel colors complementing her radiant skin. Her hair cascaded in loose waves, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and curiosity.
“Hey,” she said softly, her voice carrying over the gentle sounds of the waves.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my nerves in check. I reached out and took her hand, feeling a rush of warmth as her fingers intertwined with mine.
“You went all out,” she said, glancing around at the setup. “It’s beautiful.”
I smiled, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “I wanted it to be special. This is how it should have been.”
She squeezed my hand and looked into my eyes. “I’m glad we’re doing this now.”
We settled onto the blanket, the plush cushions giving us a comfortable spot to relax. I reached for the picnic basket, my fingers brushing against the woven fabric as I opened it. Inside, the assortment of gourmet foods I had carefully chosen gleamed under the soft glow of the lanterns.
I pulled out a container of fresh strawberries, their vibrant red color catching the light. Picking one up, I held it out to Verena.
“Open wide,” I said, my voice playful.
She opened her mouth, her lips parting slightly, and I gently placed the strawberry between them. She bit down, the juice dripping onto her chin, and she laughed, the sound mingling with the rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore.
I chuckled, reaching out to wipe the juice away with my thumb. “Messy eater,” I teased.
She wrinkled her nose at me. “Says the man who once spilled an entire glass of wine on his white shirt during a business dinner.”
I laughed, the memory flooding back. “Touché. But I’ve gotten better since then.”
“Oh, have you now?” she challenged.
“Absolutely,” I replied, picking up another strawberry. “Watch this.”
I fed her another strawberry, and she took it with a smile, her eyes never leaving mine. There was something incredibly intimate about the act, a connection that felt deeper than words.
She reached for a piece of cheese, her fingers grazing mine as she did. “You really did go all out,” she said, her tone softening.
“I wanted it to be perfect,” I admitted, my voice low. “You deserve perfect.”
Her expression softened, and she leaned in closer, her gaze intense. “This is perfect, Jae. Just being here with you.”
I swallowed, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I’m glad,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I couldn’t stop staring at Verena. She looked stunning in her summer dress, the fabric flowing gracefully around her. But my mind kept drifting back to a different outfit.
“You look beautiful tonight,” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from her. “But I must say, I’m still daydreaming about your power suit from the day you yelled at the board members and bossed them around.”
She playfully slapped my chest, a teasing smile on her lips. “Oh, come on, Jae. That’s what you’re thinking about?”
I laughed, catching her hand and holding it against my chest. “I’m serious. You were amazing. I’ve never been more attracted to you than at that moment.”
“Really? More than right now?”
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I thought I liked being in charge, but it was nice to…have someone take over and force me to not be.”
Verena laughed, the sound light and infectious. “So, you’re saying you like a woman who can boss you around?”
“Absolutely,” I said, grinning. “The way you just told them what was happening, no hesitation, no second-guessing. It was…hot.”
She shook her head, still smiling. “I was just doing what needed to be done. Those guys were completely lost without direction.”
“And you gave it to them,” I replied, feeling a surge of admiration. “You stepped in and took control. It was impressive. Sexy as hell, but also impressive.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, I’m glad my bossy side is appreciated.”
I squeezed her hand, my gaze serious for a moment. “It really is, Verena. Seeing you like that, seeing you step up and take charge…it made me realize how much I need you. Not just at work, but in my life.”
She softened, her teasing demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “I needed to do it, Jae. For the company, for you. But also for me. It showed me what I’m capable of.”
“And you’re capable of so much,” I said, my voice filled with conviction. “I’m happy you quit. I never thought I’d say that, but you were meant to be a writer, Verena. Watching you follow your dreams, it’s incredible.”
She looked down, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thank you, Jae. That means a lot.”
I couldn’t stop myself from rambling. “You know, I’ve been thinking. We should send your book to a publisher. I have contacts; I can help you get a great deal. Or, if you prefer, we can self-publish. I can fund it, get a graphic designer, handle the marketing…”
Verena cut me off with a gentle laugh, placing a finger on my lips. “Jae, I want to do this myself.”
I blinked, slightly taken aback. “I just want to prove I can support you.”
“How about just letting me continue to use your beach house when I need some writing inspiration?”
I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “You can come here whenever you’d like.”
She nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I guess your four months off work is almost up.”
“It is,” I admitted. “But I can go back when I’m ready. They have it under control, and I hired a new assistant.”
“Things are changing, Verena. I’m going to be still more. I’ve realized I need to slow down, to enjoy life and the people in it. I’m done being a workaholic.”
She looked at me, her expression softening. “I want to spend one more week here, then head back to New York. I need to find a new apartment.”
“You can move in with me,” I offered without thinking, my heart pounding at the prospect of having her close all the time.
She shook her head gently. “No. I want to take this slow.”
Her refusal hurt, but I wasn’t a man that was used to giving up. “Okay,” I said, nodding. “Slow I can do.”
We finished eating, the conversation light and filled with laughter. As we walked back to the beach house, the moonlight casting a gentle glow on everything, I felt a sense of peace.
At the door, I paused, looking at her. “Can I kiss you?” I asked.
Her eyes softened, and she stepped closer, her breath mingling with mine. “Yes,” she whispered.
I leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with longing. I wondered if I would always feel this desperate for her, but it was different this time. Before, I craved the distraction, the escape. Now, I craved her. Her taste, her skin, her perfume, the strawberries on her tongue, the buzz in my veins.
She pulled me inside after opening the door, but I stopped her, pressing my forehead to hers. “We’re going to take this slow,” I murmured.
She pouted, her eyes dark with desire. “Jae…”
I enjoyed seeing her panting for me, the tables turned for once. I kissed her forehead, then her nose, savoring every moment. “Goodnight, Verena,” I said softly, stepping back.
As I walked off to the guest room, every step felt like a battle against my own desires. Regret gnawed at me for walking away from her, but I knew it would be worth it in the end. For once, I was looking forward to the slow, steady burn of something real, something lasting.