Page 23 of Undoing the Grumpy Guy

“I’m glad you like it.”

Grinning, I pull back. “I love it! I haven’t been to a beach in years. I used to go with my mom and collect shells and pieces of driftwood.”

His features tense up. “This isn’t going to be painful for you, is it?”

It takes me a moment to realize what he’s talking about. Him being sensitive wasn’t what I was expecting. Just like I wasn’t expecting him to be so open and sweet about his attraction to me. That little story wrapped around my heart and refuses to let go.

There really is so much more to this man than his stunning looks. Once again, I wonder how I got so lucky to be here with him.

“No, it’s not painful,” I say slowly. “Losing my mom was tough, and I miss her.” I place my hand over my heart. “But she’s always here with me and I enjoy remembering the good memories I have of her. I’m sad there aren’t more chances to make more memories, but I’m grateful and embrace those I have.”

The tension in his face eases. “Then I’m happy to be a part of making these memories with you.”

Tears sting my eyes and I have to turn away before I become a blubbering mess. I’m not ready for Reed to see me like that yet. Scrubbing at my eyes, I open the door and hop out of the SUV.

Reed’s door opens and closes and then he’s around the front of the vehicle standing by my side and staring out at the ocean with me.

“You said you brought food?” I ask.

“I did.”

We go around to the back of the SUV, and he pulls out a brown wicker picnic basket, complete with a soft red checked blanket. I never would have dreamed Reed could be so romantic and sweet.

“You’re perfect,” I blurt out.

Abruptly, the happiness drains off his face, leaving his features cool and emotionless. “No, I’m not,” he says with a sharp edge to his voice.

Tossing the blanket over his shoulder, he hefts the basket in one hand and then takes mine gently with the other and guides me through the choppy hills of sand to the smoother sand of the beach.

We walk in silence for several minutes before he releases my hand and shakes out the blanket. I help him smooth it down and then we sit and stare out at the waves. The cries of seagulls overhead take me back to the times my parents and I would feed the gulls French fries on the boardwalk, and I smile at the memory.

Reed sits beside me and when I turn I see he’s staring at me, not at the ocean.

“I’m not perfect,” he says.

There’s a sadness in his eyes that makes me regret my impulsive words. Sometimes I forget that Mimi set me up with her friend’s lonely grandson. When I realized it was Reed, I dismissed the lonely part, but now I’m realizing that it was true.

A small ember deep inside wonders if he was lonely simply because he hadn’t met me yet.

Shifting my body until I’m reclining on the blanket on my side, I prop my head up with my hand and watch him. Reed lays down, taking up a similar position opposite of me.

“Reed, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just this is all so lovely, thank you.”

His blue eyes are watchful. “I wanted to do something special for you since the cat café didn’t go over that well.”

Rolling my eyes, I snort. “Oh stop, it was cute. I like cats, I promise.”

“Did the hot chocolate come out of your pants?”

Grinning, I nod. “It did, so no harm done.”

Sitting up, Reed grabs the basket. “Do want to eat now or go for a walk first?”

I scan the beach and we’re the only two souls around, so it’s probably safe to leave our basket unattended. “Let’s walk.”

Setting off, he wastes no time in grabbing my hand and I chance a peek up at him. Despite what he said, he’ll never convince me he’s not perfect.

“Did you make that top too?”

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