Page 93 of Caper Crush
“Thanks for taking me on a picnic to celebrate,” I say.
He glances at me, and I can’t read his expression.
He closes his eyes. I watch the families and couples boating around Central Park Lake. I turn back to William to suggest we go for a boat ride. He’s fallen asleep. Hmm … the uncles didn’t need to worry.
I pull out my sketch pad. I want to sketch those cheekbones and that disheveled hair hiding his forehead, those full lips. His neck and his Adam’s apple. Those broad shoulders. Yeah, there’s no way I could fall asleep. I sigh. I love when my pencil lines suddenly reveal the image and it all comes together. Next up is one of him with his eyes open, when he gives me that assessing look from the side, and one when he’s smiling, his eyes all warm. I turn the page to draw another sketch. The first one is for me, but I’d like to give him one as a gift for the picnic. I may not be able to cook, but I can draw for my food. I sketch another picture of him sleeping.
I look up to find his eyes open.
“Are you drawing me?”
“Yes.”
He sits up. “Let me see.” He leans over to look at it.
“You can’t see it until it’s done.” I pull my pad to my chest.
He slides over. “Not even a peek?”
“Not even a peek. Get back over there so I can finish.” I wave him back.
“Isn’t it better if I’m closer?” he asks, smiling, sliding even closer, his face peering into mine.
Any closer and we’d be doing a nose kiss. My pulse races. I swallow.
“No. I can’t concentrate if you’re this close.”
He chuckles. “Are you almost done?”
“Yes. But go lie back down and close your eyes.”
He lies down but puts his hands behind his head. “How much longer?”
“Five minutes.”
He opens one eye slightly. “Are you sure that’s enough time?”
“I was nearly done.”
He closes his eyes again.
I finish the sketch. “Okay, you can look.”
He moves to sit next to me and traces the lines of the picture with a finger. “That’s really good. But I think you made me more attractive than I am.” His shoulder butts against mine.
I harrumph. “You think you look attractive? You have a lot of ego.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t. But you do. This is a really good-looking guy.” He turns to face me, and he smiles.
“I do find you attractive.”
His eyebrow arches.
“But I’ve been warned off.” I put my hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer.
His open shirts and those barely revealed pectoral muscles have been like a siren call to me. Even if I can’t have him, I want that one moment to touch him—when I’m not distracted by foot pain. His heartbeat pounds under my palm. The smell of freshly cut grass wafts over.
“You were also warned off?” he asks.
