Page 42 of Kiss Away Your Pain (Wounded Hearts 2)

The text came in twelve minutes ago. He might be busy now, but I text back.

Me:So much better, thanks. How was your flight?

I see the three dots. He’s there.

Enzo:I’m glad to hear it. Good flight. Uneventful.

Me:In my delirium, I forgot to ask where your shoot is.

Enzo:We’re in Rock Canyon Park in Provo, Utah. It’s pretty. I think you’d like it. Wish you were here with me.

He does? That’s sweet.

Me:Gotta get back to work. Send me pictures.

When I get home and check my phone, he’s sent me some breathtaking pictures. I have meetings the next few days and projects to get back to people so time flies by. We text back and forth a little while he’s away. It’s nice to have someone thinking about me.

By Thursday, I’m excited to see him. Sneakers casual, hmm. I put on black skinny jeans and my sleeveless light gray top that plunges in the front and has ruching from under the bust down to the waist. I turn in the mirror and nod. “Sneakers casual.”

At five fifty-nine, there’s a knock on my door.Does he get here early and wait until one minute before his expected arrival time before he knocks?

Sneakers on, I open the door.

Damn, he looks hot.

He chuckles, blowing air through his nose. “How do you manage to make casual look stunning?”

I look down, holding back my hair. “Too dressy?” I ask, looking back up at him.

Shaking his head, he chuckles again. “Nope. You’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses my forehead. “Ready?”

“Yup.” I close and lock my door. “Do I get to know where we’re going yet?”

“No. It’s a surprise.”

As he drives, we catch each other up on our last couple of days.

“We’re here,” he says, pulling into a parking spot at Echo Park Lake.

“I love this place. I haven’t been here in years.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I am.”

“Good. I have dinner for us.” He gets out and grabs a large picnic basket and a plaid yellow, black, red, and white blanket from the back seat. Then he comes around to me. “Will you take this?” he asks, handing me the blanket.

I tuck it under my arm and he takes my other hand in his then starts walking. “Let’s find a spot under some shade. You okay with a picnic dinner?”

“Absolutely. I can honestly say I’ve never had a picnic dinner.”

We find a grassy spot under a cluster of trees and I lay out the blanket. He sets the basket on a corner, opens the lid, and starts pulling out all these little containers. They’re filled with rolled up meats and cheeses, fruit, crackers, cut up pieces of bread, hummus, and one looks like it has chocolate sauce in it. It’s like a charcuterie on-the-go. Then he takes out a bottle of white wine, two stemless wine glasses, and a battery-operated candle. This is seriously romantic and I’m in awe.

“I brought a variety because I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I hope there’s something here you want.”

“Are you kidding? I want to eat all of it.” He continues to surprise me with his thoughtfulness.

“Well dig in,” he says, tapping on his phone. Jazz music swirls into the air.

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