Page 29 of Love Deep
“You’re going to be severely disappointed if you were expecting a trek,” I say. “It’s about twenty yards behind the car.”
Fisher laughs. “Good. This basket is heavy.”
“Sure you can manage it?” I ask in an overly concerned voice. “Those weedy little arms are going to get so tired.”
Fisher tries not to laugh. “Thanks for the concern.”
I laugh. “Come on. It’s almost a full moon tonight, so it’s a perfect evening to visit the falls.”
They come into view, and even I can’t help but be struck by how beautiful they are. The water cascades over rocks into a pool below. It’s more than the trickle it can be sometimes. The moon reflects in the pool, making the black water glow.
“I haven’t been up here for ages.”
“I guess when it’s on your doorstep, you can take it for granted. But it’s beautiful.”
We find a place to sit. The ground is still warm from the sun, and we could sit right on the mossy grass, but Fisher has come prepared and brought a blanket.
“This is cute. Do you normally take women on picnics? In Central Park, maybe?”
“Hmm,” Fisher responds, straightening out the blanket. “Never been on a picnic date before.”
“Me neither,” I say. “Although I have kissed a couple of boys up here.”
“Oh, right? So, I have the ghosts of boyfriends past to contend with as well as the backdrop.”
“Right,” I reply. “I was sixteen, and a game of Truth or Dare meant my first kiss was with Johnny Radlett up here.”
“Lucky Johnny,” Fisher replies, and his eyebrows pulse up.
I can’t help but grin. Fisher opens the picnic basket.
“Holy shit. Who else did you invite?” I ask.
There is a ton of food in the basket. He brings everything out and sets it on the blanket like he’s arranging it for a photo shoot or something.
“It’s a feast,” I say.
There are three different types of salads, cold meats, pasta, smoked salmon. It’s like he went to a store and said,I’ll take one of everything.
He hands me a glass and pours out some white wine.
“A feast,” he repeats.
“You’re not telling me you got this all from the store in town?”
“No, I’m not. I can’t even take credit for picking it or packing it. I just told someone at the Club I was taking a beautiful woman on a picnic date and I wanted to impress her.”
Butterflies dance in my stomach at his compliment. Fisher impresses me just by standing there, but he does a nice line in compliments, too. I’m glad it’s dark, and he can’t see the heat in my cheeks.
“Well, color me impressed. But I’m not sure it’s the picnic that’s done that.”
Being with Fisher feels so different. I’m not used to guys who like talking to me about art or have experience living outside of Colorado.
“Tell me about life in New York,” I say. Then I immediately regret it. Maybe I don’t want to hear about how great his life is outside of Star Falls. Maybe I want to believe that he might stay a little longer than he’s planning to. “Do you hate it?” I ask. “Because they say, once you come to Star Falls, nowhere will ever be as nice.”
He sees right through me and my one-woman marketing of Star Falls and laughs. “I don’t hate it. New York is… you can’t compare it to here. Star Falls is totally different.”
“We don’t have skyscrapers.”
