Page 68 of The Kiss Countdown

Once I sit down, he goes to the cooler, where he pulls out a white table runner and lays it across the table. Next come plastic plates and cups fine enough to resemble glass. He unwraps a cutting board loaded with sandwich halves, grapes, and cheese, and places it in the center.

“Wine, please.”

I pass the bottle into his outstretched hand, and he finds a corkscrew from the cooler and opens it with apop. After pouring a healthy amount in both glasses, he sits across from me and grins. “How’d I do?”

I rearrange the food to make room for my roses to lie in the middle. “Vincent, this is perfect. I really don’t know what to say.”

I’m the planner, so it’s never bothered me to be the one setting up special dates and occasions. But to see this picnic Vincent has arranged is beyond anything I could have imagined. It’s very possible my chest might burst from how much gratitude and affection I have for him right now.

“You can tell me you’re hungry and that these peanut butter and jelly sandwiches won’t go to waste,” Vincent says.

“You made my favorite?”

He nods. “They’ve got butter, too.”

I instantly reach for half a sandwich and take a bite. It’s sweet and savory all at once, and a hundred childhood memories run through my mind.

After the first bite goes down, I let out a contented moan. “Oh my God, this is perfect.” After two more bites, I open my eyes and realize Vincent is watching me. My ears blaze.

Something’s shifted between us. The scale that’s precariously balanced the weights of ignoring what we feel for each other and acting upon it has tipped in favor of action.

It happened after he slipped the ring on my finger this morning. There was an imperceptible change in the energy flowing between us, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask. “I can’t finish these all by myself.”

Vincent looks less than thrilled as he reaches for one. “Camille was looking at me like I’d lost my mind this morning when I made these.” He peels the two pieces of bread apart and inspects each side like he wasn’t the one to make them in the first place.

“It seems like y’all had a great childhood, but I have to be real.” I wash the peanut butter down with a sip of wine. “You were sorely deprived of the goodness of PB and J with butter. Now, stop playing with your food.”

He slaps the pieces back together and takes a large bite, devouring more than half.

“So what do you think?” I ask.

He continues chewing, moving his head from side to side like he’s evaluating each flavor element. “It’s not half-bad,” he finally says. “For the sake of my cholesterol levels, this isn’t something I’d eat on the regular. But the butter adds a nice richness I hadn’t realized was missing before.”

“Dare I say that I’ve converted you?”

He finishes the piece, then flashes a grin. “I think that’s a pretty good assumption.”

I whoop and take another bite, glad to have led him to the light.

Vincent uses a pair of tongs that look so tiny in his hands. “Cheese?”

“Thank you.” I reach for the slice he holds out and pop it in my mouth. It’s a creamy Havarti, and I’m so surprised at how well it goes with peanut butter and jelly. “Be honest. Did you set this whole thing up yourself? Or did your sisters help you?”

“Lance helped me.”

“You two must have a good relationship.”

“Lance is actually my best friend, other than Tay. I’ve known him since I was a kid.”

“Wow. So you two were buddies growing up and now he’s married to your little sister. How did that happen?”

“After we lost Tay, I was away in California and not coming home much. He really stepped in to be there for Camille. I don’t know all the particulars and don’t want to know, but they got closer. One thing led to another, and now they’re married. I couldn’t have picked a better man for my sister if I tried.” He picks up a grape and tosses it in his mouth. “He’s so good, he won’t ask me to spend more time with the family.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s ready to start a family with Camille. But she thinks it’s her responsibility to look after Mom and Dad. Lance would never come right out and say it, but if I was around more, maybe she wouldn’t feel so burdened.”

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