Chapter 12
DELLA
Iwake to sunlight streaming across my face and the gentle sound of water lapping at the shore outside.
For a moment, I’m disoriented, then the memories of last night flood back—Axel’s hands, his mouth, the way he’d claimed me so thoroughly I’d forgotten my own name.
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and other places, as I stretch languidly against the soft sheets.
“Good morning, beautiful.” Axel’s deep voice draws my attention to the doorway where he stands, barefoot in low-slung jeans, holding a steaming mug. His hair is still damp from a shower, and the sight of water droplets clinging to his neck makes my mouth go dry.
“Morning,” I manage, suddenly shy despite the intimacy we’d shared hours before.
“I have something planned for us,” he says, crossing the room to hand me the coffee. “If you’re up for it.”
The coffee is perfect—cream, no sugar—and I wonder when he noticed how I take it. “What kind of something?”
His smile is secretive, almost boyish. "You’ll see. Dress casual.”
An hour later, I find myself following Axel down a narrow path that winds through sun-dappled woods toward the lake.
He carries a wicker basket in one hand, a rolled blanket tucked under his arm, and his other hand firmly clasping mine.
The simple connection of our fingers feels as intimate as anything we did last night.
“Here we are,” he announces as we emerge from the trees onto a small, private beach. The lake stretches before us, sunlight dancing across its surface like scattered diamonds.
I watch, mesmerized, as he spreads the blanket on the grass and begins unpacking the basket—crusty bread, an assortment of cheeses, fresh strawberries, dark chocolate, and a bottle of champagne beaded with condensation.
“A picnic?” I ask, something warm unfurling in my chest.
“I figured you deserved to be pampered a little.” He pats the blanket beside him. “Come here.”
I sink down next to him, our shoulders brushing. The domesticity of the moment strikes me—how natural it feels to be here with him, as if we’ve been doing this for years instead of days.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Axel says, popping the champagne cork with practiced ease. The sound echoes across the water as he pours the bubbling liquid into two flutes. “What’s going on in that beautiful head?”
I accept the glass he offers, watching the bubbles rise. “Just... this. Us. It feels..."
“Right?” he supplies, his eyes holding mine.
I nod, unable to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside me. Instead, I take a sip of champagne, letting the crisp, bright taste wash over my tongue.
Axel feeds me strawberries and chocolate, his fingers lingering on my lips.
We talk about everything and nothing—his childhood adventures with Alek, my first disastrous attempt at marketing, the book he’s currently reading, and the playlist I made for my morning runs.
Each revelation feels like a gift exchanged, small pieces of ourselves laid bare.
When he kisses me, he tastes of champagne and possibilities. His hand cups my cheek, thumb stroking my skin with reverence. The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding against mine as he eases me back onto the blanket. The weight of him above me is delicious, familiar now but no less thrilling.
His hand slides under my sundress, fingers tracing patterns on my inner thigh. I arch into his touch, wanting more, forgetting everything but the feel of him against me.
“Della,” he groans against my neck, his voice strained. “If we don’t stop now...”
A boat horn sounds in the distance, startling us both. Axel lifts his head, eyes dark with desire but lips curved in a rueful smile.
“Probably shouldn’t give the neighbors a show,” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to my lips before sitting up.
I laugh, smoothing my dress down over my thighs. “Probably not, though I’m tempted to say to hell with propriety.”
He grins, refilling our glasses. "Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I have very little self-control where you’re concerned.”
The admission sends a thrill through me. I’m about to tell him how much I want him when my phone buzzes in my purse. I ignore it, focusing instead on the way the sunlight catches in Axel’s auburn hair.
“You going to check that?” he asks, nodding toward my purse.
“It’s nothing important.”
We return to our feast, Axel slicing cheese while I tear off chunks of bread. My phone buzzes again, the sound muffled but insistent.
“Sorry,” I mutter, reaching for my purse. I glance at the screen, my stomach clenching when I see the name. “Just a nuisance call. Nothing to worry about.”
Axel’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he tells me about the time Alek nearly drowned trying to retrieve a football from this very lake. I laugh at all the right places, but part of me is waiting for the next interruption.
It comes five minutes later—another buzz that seems to echo between us. This time, Axel’s expression turns serious.
“Della, what’s going on?”
I sigh, turning the phone so he can see the screen. “It’s Jared. He’s been calling and texting since yesterday.”
"Your ex?" Axel’s voice is carefully neutral, but I see the way his jaw tightens.
“Yes.” I hesitate, then decide he deserves the whole truth. “He showed up at the coffee shop last week when I was with Betsy. Made quite a scene.”
Axel sets down his glass, his full attention on me. “What kind of scene?"
“The ‘I’ve made a terrible mistake’ kind. Followed by the ‘we belong together’ speech.” I shake my head, remembering Jared’s dramatic entrance, the way conversations had hushed around us. “Betsy nearly threw her latte at him.”
“I’m starting to like your friend,” Axel says, a hint of a smile returning. “What did you tell him?”
"That it was over. That I’d moved on.” I meet his gaze steadily. “That I was seeing someone else.”
Something fierce and possessive flashes in Axel’s eyes. He reaches for my hand, his thumb rubbing circles on my palm. “And how did he take that?”
"Not well. Hence the barrage of calls.” I pick up my phone and hold the power button until the screen goes dark. “There. Problem solved.”
Axel watches me, his expression thoughtful. “You shouldn’t have to turn off your phone, Della. He’s the one who should back off.”
“It’s fine. I’d rather be present here with you anyway.” I try for a light tone, but Axel isn’t fooled.
“It’s not fine. He’s harassing you.” He takes the phone from my hand and turns it back on. “You don’t need to hide from him. If he calls again while we’re together, I’ll answer it myself.”
The protectiveness in his voice makes my heart flutter. It’s so different from Jared’s possessiveness—Axel wants to shield me, not control me.
“That might be a bit much for a first weekend together,” I say, though part of me loves the idea of Axel putting Jared in his place.
He smiles, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Fair enough. But the offer stands.”
He reaches for the champagne bottle, refilling my glass. “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”
I lean forward, brushing my lips against his. “I think you were about to tell me what other surprises you have planned for today.”
His eyes darken, pupils dilating as his gaze drops to my mouth. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas. None of which involves your phone... or many clothes.”
The promise in his voice sends heat spiraling through me. I take a sip of champagne, letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue, and decide that whatever this is between us—this intense, unexpected connection—I’m all in.
“I can’t wait,” I whisper, and the smile he gives me is worth a thousand unanswered calls.