Page 65 of Amore
I changed into a long-sleeved blouse and a pair of jeans. We had been in Canada for almost a month, but I still wasn’t used to the chilly nights in the middle of summer. Luke was in a black leather jacket, a black tee, and black jeans, his usual attire when on duty. He didn’t need to change for what I had planned.
“Ready?” I asked, coming out of the small bedroom in the trailer.
“Given I have no idea what we’re doing, I think so.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then, let’s go.” I reached out my hand and led him out the door of the trailer, Amore following. We got into the waiting Suburban, the driver already knowing where to go, which wasn’t far.
“Nervous?” I teased.
“Should I be?”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” He grunted.
“I’m just kidding.”
Luke reached across the bench-style seat and grabbed my hand. “Whatever you have planned, I’m not scared. I would jump off a bridge for you.”
“Okay, let’s not get crazy.” I chuckled.
“I would,” he reiterated.
“But you’re scared of heights.”
“Exactly.”
I smiled sincerely. “Youdolove me.”
He leaned closer, kissing my lips. “More and more every day.”
“Are you trying to get in my pants again, Mr. Davenport?”
“Yeah, is it working?” He grinned.
“Maybe.” I smirked.
The driver pulled up to the curb of the park we were going to, and Luke asked, “Isn’t this where you’re filming tomorrow?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “And where we’re having dinner.”
His brow furrowed. “Dinner?”
The driver had gotten out of the car and opened the back, pulling out a wicker picnic basket. “Do you remember that summer when we camped in your backyard every night for a week?”
“I remember every summer and then some.”
“But it was the time we tried wine for the first time,” I reminded him.
“Right, the wine that didn’t taste like juice.” He laughed. “So, are we camping here?”
“No.” I shook my head. “But I thought we could have grilled cheese and red wine while pretending to be in a winter wonderland.”
“It didn’t snow in the summers in Tennessee,” Luke teased.
