Page 51 of Spicy or Sweet
“We’re going to the reservoir?” Shay asks, practically vibrating with excitement.
“If you want to,” I answer, but I barely get the words out before she says, “Yes!”
I open the passenger door and deposit Croissant on the seat. The reservoir isn’t big, and we’ll never be so far out that we won’t be able to drop him off at the shore if he doesn’t like the boat, but I have a blanket, and no doubt he’ll happily snuggle in and watch the birds go by.
Shay climbs up beside him while I get back behind the wheel, and her smile is brighter than the blazing fall sunshine.
It’s a short drive to the reservoir; usually, I’d walk, but despite years of hauling palettes of toys and sacks of flour, I don’t think I could carry the boat the whole way.
And the short drive is more than worth it when Shay sighs happily and says, “How is it possible that you look this hot driving?” She squeezes my knee, and I practically melt.
Shay helps me unload the boat, and I get the food and blankets situated while she carries Croissant. Once the two of them are settled, I lock the truck and push the boat over the last of the rocky shore. I hop in right before the current pulls the boat, feeling the ground disappear beneath me as the weightlessness of the water takes over.
The view of the mountains, of the sun glistening on the water’s surface, is incredible. But I can’t stop looking at Shay.
She stares around us in wonder, taking in every inch of the scene. There’s a soft breeze, enough to cool the heat of the sunand tease the ends of her hair. Even Croissant looks enraptured, scrunching his little nose and looking around wide-eyed.
“You know,” Shay whispers, like she’s scared to speak too loudly and disturb the peace, “I’ve been a lot of places in my life, but I think this might be my favorite.”
“It’s pretty magical,” I agree. “I should bring you here at night sometime. The stars are incredible.”
“I can imagine.”
She sets Croissant down like a loaf on one of the blankets I brought and steps gingerly over the center seat so she can sit facing me. Our knees brush, the tiny touch enough to make my heart race.
“Thank you for doing this. It’s even better than I dreamed it would be.” She cups my cheek, and my skin warms beneath her touch.
I bring her hand to my mouth, pressing my lips to her palm. “I’m glad I got to be the one to share it with you.” The words spill out, anything but casual, but I can’t bring myself to regret a little scrap of honesty somewhere so beautiful.
“Did I hear you say picnic?”
“Mhmm.” I lift the picnic basket and balance it on the bench seat beside me. “I made sandwiches and packed some treats, but when I picked up the boat, my mom had the basket with practically an entire grocery store in it for us, so we’re stocked.”
She doesn’t respond as I unzip the basket, and when I look up, she’s frowning. “What?”
“You told your parents about us?”
Ah. Shit. She doesn’t sound pissed, just confused, at least.
“Yes, but in my defense, they definitely already knew,” I answer quickly.
She looks no less confused. If anything, her eyebrows climb higher.
Croissant chooses this moment to perk up, crawling under the bench his mom is sitting on, and standing up on his hind legs to investigate the food.
I toss him a snap pea, and he chases it around the floor.
“Are people talking about us?” Shay asks, and I can’t ascertain how she feels about the possibility from her measured tone.
“This is Wintermore,” I answer with a shrug. “I think it’s safe to assume someone is talking about you at all times. But us? I don’t know. My parents weren’t surprised when I told them who was coming with me today, and I know my brother’s friend, Quinn, spotted us through my window a few days ago, so I’m guessing other people in town have also noticed.”
“Shit.” Shay worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “I suppose we haven’t been as careful as we should’ve been.”
I have to force myself not to show how much I don’t like that.
“Are you upset that people know?”
Every second that Shay takes to think about her answer feels longer.
