Of course, I found myself more than a little distracted by the muscles rippling beneath his white T-shirt as he worked. For a moment I felt like a heroine in one of those romance novels Grandma Nellie read—all swoony. Maybe it had something to do with the heat.
“There. Perfect.” He finished with the quilt and then gestured toward it as if waiting for my approval.
“Yes.” Everything was perfect, all right. He gestured again for me to take a seat, and then he settled in next to me. Our hands brushed as I reached for the basket that held our lunch. For a moment I paused, loving the idea of being so close. He seemed to enjoy it, too, if I could gauge from the contented expression on his face.
Derrick reached to brush a lock of hair off my face with his fingertip, and then he smiled. I froze in place, unable to remember what I needed to do next. Oh yes. Unpack the food.
To our right a family with four young children laughed and talked as they ate at a picnic table. Well, most of them. One of the boys rushed our way, eyes wide. “You’re Derrick Richardson.”
“I am.” Derrick gave him a welcoming smile.
“I . . . I . . .” The boy seemed stuck. “I play too.”
“Position?” Derrick looked genuinely interested.
“Pitcher.” His eyes sparkled with pride. Seconds later his dad joined us, and I lost Derrick to a lengthy conversation about the Astros. Not that I minded at all. In fact, I rather enjoyed it.
Afterward, when the boy and his father left us to ourselves, Derrick turned my way, an apologetic expression on his face. “Sorry about that.”
I shook my head. “I’m not, Derrick. It shows me so much about who you are. You always take time for others. You don’t make people feel like they’re out of line for approaching you. I love that about you.”
“Oh?” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “You love something about me, eh?”
“Well, I, uh . . .” I felt my cheeks grow warm.
“I’m kidding, Southpaw. But I’m glad to know you see more in me than just my so-called talent on the field. It’s good, for once, to just be me.” He gave me that signature wink of his. “With you.”
A little giggle followed on my end. I couldn’t help myself. To avoid showing him my embarrassment, I turned my attention to the basket of food. Minutes later, I had our little picnic laid out before us. It looked pretty good, if I did say so myself.
He gave me an admiring look. “I can’t believe you pulled this off, Mari. Are you a gourmet chef as well as a cookie baker?”
“No.” I laughed as I opened the container of fruit salad. “But I know how to shop at the local deli, and I’m a whiz with paper plates and plastic forks.”
“Then you’re the girl for me. I happen to be a pro with a paper plate myself.”
His right eyebrow elevated, and I could tell he was teasing. Still, he’d lost me at “you’re the girl for me.” Did he really mean it?
I got my answer fifteen minutes later, after we’d finished eating.
“Want to go for a walk on the trails?”
“Sure.”
Derrick rose and extended his hand. I took it and stood up, then smiled when I realized he wasn’t letting go. In fact, he didn’t let go . . . at all. Instead, we walked at a leisurely pace under the canopy of walnut trees, hand in hand. Derrick stopped when we reached a pretty little pond. I saw why at once. The sunlight shimmered down on the water, creating the most exquisite colors.
“Beautiful,” I said after a moment of quiet reflection.
“Yes. Definitely beautiful.” Only he wasn’t looking at the water, was he? No, Derrick had turned to face me. The tips of his fingers brushed my cheek and a delicious shiver wriggled its way down my spine. I peered up into his face and saw the depth of emotion in his eyes. He slipped his other arm around my waist, and I instinctively leaned in to him, resting my head against his shoulder. In that moment, with the sound of the water rippling nearby and the glow of sunlight on our faces, I felt my heart burst into song.
Okay, not burst into song exactly, but I certainly felt like singing, and all the more as Derrick cupped my chin with his palm. I tilted my head to gaze into his eyes and felt myself captivated by the sweetness as his lips met mine for the most delicious kiss ever.
“You’re the most wonderful girl I know, Mari Hays.” He whispered soft in my ear.
If any other man had spoken those words, I might not have believed him. But hearing them from Derrick—seeing the sincerity in his eyes—I found myself completely and totally convinced.
And if his words didn’t do the trick, the kiss that followed certainly did.
The first two weeks of May buzzed by. A sense of anticipation filled everyone in our home as the big day approached, and that excitement spilled over onto the wedding party. I’d never seen the bridesmaids so worked up.