Page 41 of Claiming What Is Mine

Gabe’s eyes sparkle. “No moves, beautiful. You get the real, authentic me.”

His words melt me. “Alright then, let’s see what else you have in store.”

Gabe grins and shifts the truck back in gear and we continue down the dirt road, kicking up a dust storm as we go. Slowly, we make our way to the northeast side of the reservoir, only, as we approach the turnaround at the end of the road, Gabe doesn’t turn the wheel. Instead, he touches the brakes to slow the truck down but keeps straight, driving us right off the road.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask as we bump up and down in our seats.

“You’ll see. I want to be sure we have privacy.”

Huh? I don’t think I’ve seen another vehicle since, like five minutes before we turned off the road. Anywhere you want to stop—we’ll have privacy.

We roll over a final bump and then, as if by magic, we’re back on a road, of sorts. It’s barely more than two worn tracks in the dirt, but it shows others have dared to do this before.

I’m about to open my mouth and ask just where in the hell he thinks he’s taking me, but before I get the first word out, he stops the truck and kills the engine. “Here we are.” Gabe opens his door and slides down without another word. Two seconds later, the passenger door opens. Gabe stands there, hand extended, waiting to help me down.

I place my hand in his while my foot reaches for the step rail, only it misses the step, and I slide right off the edge of the seat. My attempt to exit like a proper lady is a total fail.

Gabe catches me around the waist and lowers me to the ground. As my feet find purchase, he slides his hands up my back, pulling me close. His lips capture mine, soft and sweet, while his hard body presses against mine.

“What’s gotten into you today?” I ask, breathless.

Gabe winks before retrieving the blanket and basket. “That’s for me to know.” He indicates the sand ahead of us. “You may want to take off your shoes.” He guides me to a lonely tree, set back fifteen or twenty paces from the water’s edge. There’s a footpath leading down to the water, surrounded on either side by cattails. Small ripples lap against the shore. “How’s this, love?” he asks, ready to unfurl the blanket.

I’m taken aback by the picturesque reflection of the late afternoon sun on the water. “It’s perfect.” I smile. “Where did you come up with all of this?”

Gabe spreads the blanket and then drops to his knees, setting out plates and wine glasses from the basket. He looks up with a smile. “Don’t worry, I brought sparkling juice.”

He really has thought of everything, hasn’t he?

Gabe continues explaining as he sets up our picnic spot. “Like I said before, I wanted tonight to be different. Memorable. And let’s face it, if you’re looking for both of those around here, you’ve got to get creative.”

“That’s sweet. But why do you want tonight to be memorable? What’s different about tonight from every other night?” I sit on the blanket, my legs folded by my side, curiosity running wild as I try to crack the code of the evening.

Gabe pauses and stares at the ground before he lets out a sigh. “Okay. I give. But you’re really not making this easy, ya know.”

I recognize the truth of the statement and feel bad for it. I take his hand and bring it to my chest. “I’m sorry. You put a lot of time and thought into this evening. More than I was prepared to give you credit for. So, thank you,” I say, humbled.

Gabe’s smile returns. “No worries, Doll. Now uh, you know how I go by the beat of my own drum, right?”

I roll my eyes. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Good, then you won’t be surprised by what I packed for us.”

I shake my head. “Oh my. What did you do?”

Gabe reaches into the basket and pulls out a familiar looking pie tin with a protective plastic lid.

“Please tell me that’s dessert and not the main course.”

Gabe shrugs. “What if I said it’s both?”

This is the father of my unborn child?

Heaven help us. All three of us.

“Wait. It’s symbolic,” Gabe says, undeterred by my objection.

I raise my brow. “Symbolic of what?”

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