Page 107 of Sunsets at the Beach House

Roxie was glad she’d chosen a long, flowy sundress instead of the shorter one she’d almost put on. Sitting on a blanket on the grass meant crossing her legs, something she never would have been able to do in the shorter dress. The longer one might not have been her usual style, but it was perfect.

All around them sat couples and groups of people, blankets spread out as they waited for the music to start. The jazz group was on the small stage that had been set up. They were taking their spots and getting their instruments ready.

To the right of the park, the sun was setting over the Gulf, painting the sky in gorgeous shades of bright pink and electric orange. It was a perfect night. Even more perfect because of the company.

Her cooler bag was in front of her and she was about to unpack it, when she looked over at Ethan. He was staring at her. “What? Is it the hair? You don’t like it, do you.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I told you I love it and I meant that. I just can’t get over what a transformation it is. You were always beautiful, but it’s taken a few years off of you. And you already looked younger than your real age. People might think you’re too young for me now.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be silly.”

He leaned in and kissed the side of her neck. “Seriously, they’re going to think I’m robbing the cradle.”

“I wouldn’t go that far but thank you.” A little shiver of pleasure went through her. She knew he was right. The softer color had taken some years off of her. As much as she’d loved the red, she now realized it had been a little bit much. This new color was much more forgiving. And flattering.

“You’re welcome.” He opened the basket he’d brought, which looked like an actual picnic basket, something she’d never expected him to have.

The top was hinged and when he opened it, she could see two bottles of wine in holders, two wine glasses, what looked like a sub sandwich wrapped in white butcher paper, a medium-sized bag of potato chips, a clear grocery store container of cut-up fruit, plastic utensils, and paper napkins. There might have been something else under the sub, too.

“You brought a lot more than just wine,” she said as she looked into the basket.

“Guilty. I got an Italian cold cut sub from Publix along with some other stuff. I figured we might be hungrier than just cheese and crackers, since this was basically going to be dinner. At least it is for me.”

She nodded. “Me, too. But I brought more than cheese and crackers.” She looked in the basket again. “Not that much more.”

“Well, let’s put it all out and have at it. I’m hungry.”

They did just that. Roxie was glad she’d brought some paper plates. Ethan unwrapped the sub, putting a half on each plate, then opened the chips and added a handful to the plates as well. On another plate, she made up a few crackers with cheese and put small sprigs of grapes alongside them. She pulled out the can of nuts, but didn’t open them.

Ethan rested his hand on the edge of the basket. “Red or white? I wasn’t sure, so I brought one of each.”

“With an Italian sub? Probably red.”

He nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too.” He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses, which were conveniently the stemless kind, allowing them to sit securely on the blanket. He moved the basket to the side, then picked up his glass. “Here’s to a great evening.”

“Cheers,” she said. She took a sip. She wasn’t a big fan of red wine in general, but this one was nice. Mild and fruity and not too dry. It even seemed a little bubbly. “What is this? It’s really good.”

“Something the wine person at Publix recommended to me. It’s a Lambrusco. To be honest, I have no idea what that is and I’m sure I’ve never had it.” He laughed. “I’m not really a wine guy but I’d already said I was bringing some and this seemed nice.”

“It’s really nice.” She grinned. “I’m not much of a wine drinker, either, but I like this.” She took another sip. “You did very well.”

“Always something I like to hear. Maybe you can give me some help with what I’m supposed to wear to the wedding so I can keep my streak going.”

“It’s sort of dressy casual. You know, it’s a beach wedding, so…”

He shook his head. “I have no idea what that means. Tell me in plain English. Better yet, just tell me what to wear.”

“Do you have nice tan pants or shorts? Not cargo shorts.”

“I have some nice tan linen pants that I wear to church sometimes.”

“Perfect. How about a nice tropical or Hawaiian shirt?”

“Yep, I have those, too.”

“I’m wearing periwinkle, so—”

“You’re wearing what?”

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