"It cost less than dinner last night, if that makes you feel any better." It did.
Brett is always paying when we go out. Which I would think was nice if he took me to normal date restaurants. No, Brett insists on taking me to nice places. He's not a fancy guy, so for a while I couldn't figure out if he just wants to eat at those restaurants, or if he had some misplaced need to impress me. He could have taken me to Mickey D's and I would have still been thrilled just to be spending time with him.
When I finally got up the nerve to ask him, he laughed at me. To my face, flat-out laughed at me. My hang-up on money gets under Brett's skin. I can't help it. I hate when he spends more than my meager weekly paycheck on one dinner. He’s a freaking detective, not a corporate CEO. I have to give up the fight though. He's a big boy. He can spend his money however he wants.
"Did you bring extra clothes?" he asks as we turn down a dirt road. We are at least an hour outside of the city. I can't imagine what we could be doing today.
"Yeah," I absently answer while searching for clues out the window.
Thank God we brought the Jeep today, because I'm not sure the BMW would have made it down this rough road. Suddenly, Brett steers the car to the side and throws it into park.
"We're here."
"Um...what?" I look around at nothing but trees and dirt. He doesn't acknowledge my confusion, but gets out and walks around to open my door.
"Let's go, gorgeous." He pulls me to my feet, my eyes still searching for a destination. He slings a bag over my shoulder and walks off into the woods.
"Brett! Where are you going? Don't leave me here."
"Then hurry up!" he shouts, not bothering to turn around. The idea of being left alone in the middle of the woods definitely put a little pep in my step.
I rush after him into the woods. Just after I hit the tree line I see a clearing, and it’s staggering. I look around to see nothing but a frozen pond. The snow on the ground has been cleared into piles lining the perimeter. It looks like something out of a fairy tale.
"Do you ice skate?" Brett asks, sitting down on a bench, the only man-made structure in sight.
"Do you?"
"Yeah, I played hockey in high school." He opens his bag, revealing a gigantic pair of skates.
"This is beautiful." I look around wide-eyed, taking in our surroundings.
"It's my favorite spot. Leah's husband’s, Ryan, family owns this land. Every year when it gets cold enough, they clear the pond and use it for skating."
"Is it safe?"
"Of course, crazy. Wait, you do weigh less than the tractor that cleared it, right?" he jokes as I shoot him a death glare. "Here," he pulls out a pair of skates from his bag.
"You did not buy me ice skates!" my yell echoes back at me.
"Okay, you sit here and freak out about a pair of cheap skates, but I'm going to take this pond for a spin. Let me know when you get over it, and I'll help you so you don't bust your ass." He steps onto the ice and flies away.
I watch him glide around for a few minutes. I hate it that he's right. The skates probably only cost him fifty bucks, but he needs to learn to talk to me first. I have a perfectly respectable pair hanging in my closet. Sure these are really awesome—powder blue with white glittery laces—but I didn't need them.
"Jesse James, chop chop! You can worry about it later. I'll even give you the receipt so you can be fully informed in your obsessing, but right now you need to get your sexy ass out here. I'll teach you. Stop procrastinating." I let out an annoyed sigh.
Rising to my feet, I take a few shaky steps toward the ice. Just before the edge, I reach out and grip his hands for balance.
"I've got you. One foot at a time. Just slide forward, I'll keep you balanced."
He holds my arms, skating backwards as he pulls me forward. I slip once and almost fall, but he lifts me off my feet and places me back down in front of him. He wraps an arm around my hips and curls me into his hard body.
"Alright. Let's go slow. I don't want you to end up covered in bruises."
Leisurely, we spend the next hour arm in arm gliding around the frozen pond. True to his word, Brett never lets me fall, but I never let go of him. It felt amazing to spend the day tucked tightly under his arm. I would have kept up the ruse all day, but of course Brett had to open his mouth.
"So what do you want to do tonight?" he asks when we flop down together on the bench.
"Um, maybe stay in. We can go to your place and I'll cook dinner. Something quiet."
"Jesse, you cooked dinner every day last week. Let me take you out this weekend."
"No, your idea of out is very different than mine."
"What is that supposed to mean?
"It means you take me to delicious fancy restaurants that most girls would adore, but really I just want to go to the sports bar and eat wings."
"Gorgeous, you don't eat wings. You loved dinner last night. You squealed when the waitress brought your food out." Dang it, he's right. The food was amazing.