“No. Don’t. It’s perfect just like this. Everything is…” Her voice trails off as emotion thickens it.
So we dance for a few more minutes, spinning around the rooftop and laughing until our bodies home in on the need to be close again, before we sit down on the mattress. Beaux looks at me over the bag, and her face lights up when she pulls out a bottle of wine followed by cheap plastic glasses and some cheese, crackers, and chocolate. “Oh my God, this looks like Heaven!” She takes a bite of the gourmet cheese that I had to pay an arm and a leg to get here, but for the look in her eyes and the smile on her face, I’d have paid double.
“I pulled out all the stops. Even the fine china,” I tease, thinking that in a way this date is beyond silly but still perfectly fitting for the two of us. In the life we lead chasing stories, it comes down to the little things that mean so very much – and tonight I’m glad to know by her reaction that she feels the same way.
“You did!” she says as she leans over the food spread between us and presses her mouth to mine. “When did you do all of this?”
“You’re not the only one who can go wandering the streets all by themselves, rookie.” I give her a quirk of my brow and receive a head shake from her in return.
“Should I give you the same lecture you give me?”
“It’s different.”
“No it’s not!” She swats my arm.
“I’m a guy. It’s totally different,” I repeat.
“And I’m a woman,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest in mock irritation.
“That you are,” I murmur, a suggestive smirk turning up the corners of my mouth. “A mighty fine one at that, and I most definitely am not complaining.”
“Good to know you approve.”
I trace my fingertips up the bare skin of her thighs. “Oh I approve, rookie. I definitely approve.” Desire stirs in an atomic bomb of need curling in the pit of my stomach.
“Later, Pulitzer. You’ll get to approve a lot more later.” She laughs as she pushes the bottle of wine against my chest to fend me off.
“That’s cold!” I take the bottle, though, and start to open it.
“Do you actually think you are going to hand a woman who has been deprived of indulgences a bottle of wine and a bag of chocolate and who knows what else is in here and think you’re going to distract her with sex?”
“Did I just get denied for food?”
“It’s not just food. It’s chocolate. That’s like the holy – Tanner, what is… really?” Her voice escalates in excitement and then laughter as she pulls two kid-sized bottles of bubbles from the bag.
She glances over to me again, and I can feel the look she gives me along every single inch of my skin causing the part of me that second-guessed the bottles to vanish. The look is raw and real and vulnerable and accepting and so many other things I stop trying to analyze because right here, right now, I have an absolutely gorgeous woman sitting beside me, enamored with the silly little touches I added to the date, and so there’s no need to question a damn thing. I’m just going with it.
“Bubbles,” she says softly. “I haven’t opened a bottle since I was a kid. But I used to love to sit in the front yard blowing them and watch the breeze take them up in flight, and see just how far they could go before they popped. Do you have any idea how cool it is you bought these for me?”
“I wanted us to take tonight to enjoy the little things.” I shrug as she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “Besides, no one will ever regret the time they spend blowing bubbles.”
“Never,” she whispers softly before breaking the moment and looking away, almost as if she’s afraid I’ll look too deeply inside her and see the feelings written all over her face.