Page 41 of Playing with My Heart

“Keep your compliments coming, Parker. They might just earn you the first bite of whatever I whip up for dinner,” he replied with a wink.

With the fire crackling merrily, our campsite was intimate, romantic, and so damn right that I couldn’t help but feel a swell of contentment rise within me. “Wait until you see what I’ve got planned for dinner,” he said, pulling a cooler closer and opening it to reveal a selection of meats and vegetables. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” I confessed. My stomach growled in agreement, eager to taste whatever magic he could conjure over an open flame.

“Good. You’re about to witness the culinary talents of Travis Brooks.” He rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms that were well toned with sparse blond hair. It was hard not to stare, not to appreciate the way his muscles flexed as he skewered pieces of marinated chicken and bell peppers onto metal rods.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” I asked, half-joking but entirely serious. Travis was a man of many layers, each more intriguing than the last.

“Can’t seem to stop thinking about you,” he retorted smoothly, and my heart did that funny little skip-beat dance it had perfected since meeting him.

“Flirt,” I accused, though my tone was fond, affectionate even. “It’s no wonder you never went home alone from the clubs.”

His movements stopped, his eyes locking on me. “You’re the only one I want to go home with now,” he promised, and I believed him.

The aroma of grilled meat began to mingle with the smoky scent of the fire, creating a mouthwatering mixture that played upon all my senses. Travis moved with a grace that belied his size, turning the skewers with precision, the flames making his skin look like it was glowing.

“It’s ready,” he announced after a while, plating the food with care. It looked like something out of a gourmet magazine, and I was once again struck by the depth of his abilities.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” I said, genuinely impressed as I took the plate he offered.

“Wait until you taste it.”

And taste it I did. The flavors burst on my tongue—smoky, savory, with a hint of sweetness that made my taste buds sing. Watching him cook had been a treat, but this was another level of enjoyment.

“Damn, Travis. When you said you could cook, I didn’t realize you meant you could out-cook professional chefs.”

“Guess I’m just full of surprises,” he replied, his lips quirking into that familiar, cocky smile that I found so endearing.

“Keep them coming,” I said, my voice softer now, edged with the vulnerability that comes from opening one’s heart. “I’m starting to think there’s nothing better than being surprised by you.”

He reached across the small space between us, his hand finding mine, his touch sending a current through me that was as vital as the warmth from the fire. “Get used to it, Parker, because I’m not going anywhere.”

Surrounded by the beauty of nature and the man who was quickly becoming my everything, I felt a profound sense of peace. This weekend was shaping up to be more than a simpleescape—it was a journey towards something real and lasting. And I was ready to savor every second of it.

“Seriously, that was amazing,” I said as I scooped up the last bite and shoved it into my mouth. “You’ve got magic hands, Trav.”

“Good to know you think so,” he teased, winking at me. The innuendo hung in the air between us, light and playful. He finished eating, then leaned back in his chair, looking contented. “But enough about my cooking. Tell me something real, Parker. What’s one dream you have that you’ve never told anyone?”

The question caught me off guard, a pleasant prickle of nervousness dancing up my spine. I swallowed, not just the food, but also the sudden lump of vulnerability. “Okay—well,” I started, my gaze drifting up to the canopy of leaves above us. “I’ve always wanted to write a book. Nothing fancy, just—stories that matter, you know? Stories that might help someone feel less alone.”

“Wow.” He sounded genuinely impressed, and it warmed me more than the fire could. “That’s beautiful, Parker. You know, Garrett’s an author. If you ever decide to give it a try, I’m sure he would be happy to help you.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling my cheeks flush with a mixture of gratitude that he hadn’t laughed at me. Not that I’d thought he would. If anyone would understand my ambitions, it was him. “What about you? Any hidden dreams in that confident exterior?”

A soft smile graced his lips, as warm as the embers crackling before us. “I guess—sometimes I think about having a family. You know, the whole package. Sort of like I had with my parents before they were taken from me. A partner who gets me, a couple of kids running around, maybe even a dog.”

“Sounds pretty perfect,” I replied softly, the image of it blossoming in my mind—Travis, with laughter-filled eyes,chasing after a pair of exuberant toddlers and scooping them up in his strong arms.

“Yeah, it does,” he agreed, his eyes locking onto mine. In them, I saw something deep and earnest, and it struck a chord within me.

We talked on, delving deeper into the topic of fears and aspirations. His concerns about being the last single man in his group of friends echoed my own worries of finding someone who truly understood me. We shared the yearning for connection, for a love that was both a shelter and a celebration.

As the sun began its descent, the sky transformed into a canvas painted with a talented artist’s brush. The day’s warmth lingered, but the coming night promised to be cool. Travis stood abruptly, brushing crumbs from his jeans. Taking my empty paper plate with his, he tossed them into the fire then turned to me, holding out his hand.

“Come on, follow me,” he said, his voice laced with an excitement that was contagious.

I watched, curious, as he fetched a blanket from our tent and spread it out on the grassy ground nearby. “Let’s watch the stars come out,” he suggested as he dropped down onto the blanket, patting the space beside him.

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