I swallow hard, ignoring her statement, but I can’t ignore the emotion in her eyes and how they suddenly turn pink and misty.
“You matter to me,” I respond to her, holding her gaze. “You’re important to me.” I need her to know I’m not going to let her go easily. I’ve never fallen for anyone as quickly and as intensely, and I plan to show her just how much she means to me. As her emotions build and become even more visible, I whisper, “Talk to me.” I run my hand up her thigh until I reach her hand before sliding her fingers into mine and holding them tightly.
She shakes her head slowly from side-to-side and I see her swallow hard.
“Please, Gracie.” I try to be patient, to be who she needs me to be in the moment, but I want her so fucking badly to know she can count on me. Maybe she couldn’t count on other people in her past, other men, but dammit if I won’t use every last breath in my body convincing her that she can count on me.
In defiance, and without a word, she shifts away from me and looks out her window, but I won’t release her hand. She can try to pull away from me all she wants, but I won’t let her go. An uneasy silence fills the car and we sit in the uneasiness until Tony announces our arrival at our destination.
“Mr. McPherson,” he says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “We’re here.”
Gracie’s gaze snaps from her window to mine. Plush, green grass and tall trees shadow the entrance to Central Park. Our driver pulled over just past Columbus Circle where there’s an entrance to the park. Gracie looks at me, confused, but I slide out of my door and offer her my hand to help her out. She accepts and slides out next to me.
Tony pops the trunk and hands me two large brown paper bags with handles. Gracie looks at the bags, then at me, her confusion sinking deeper.
“Ready?” I ask her.
She takes a deep breath, her shoulders rising with tension. “What’s that?” she asks, glancing at the bags.
“You’ll see.” I wink at her.
Her shoulders fall and she sighs. “Everything is a surprise with you, isn’t it?”
“I like surprises.” I pause. “And I like you. I like surprising you.”
She drops her head and I see her fighting back a smile, a pleasant change from her emotional state in the car.
“Come on.” I nudge her gently with my shoulder and we walk into Central Park. I carry both bags with my left hand and she holds my right as we wander further into the park. We find a nice grassy area under a large tree and I set the bags down. To our right, two men throw a Frisbee back and forth. Other people are congregated on the thick grass, enjoying an overcast New York City afternoon.
In one of the bags, I find a large plaid blanket and spread it out on the grass before I unpack the other bag. I requested two salads, two sandwiches, a bottle of wine, and bottles of water. Tony went above and beyond, throwing in a dessert and a pasta salad. He’s good. Even remembered glasses and utensils.
“What is this?” Gracie squeals, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.
“What does it look like?” I ask, setting up everything on the blanket. I smile at the sound of excitement in her voice. Nothing makes me happier than seeing Gracie smile, to know that I might make her day a little brighter. Her happiness is my happiness.
“A picnic! I haven’t done this since I was a kid,” she exclaims.
“Then you’d be correct.” I grin. “Sit down.” I gesture to the blanket, where she sits and crosses her legs.
Birds chirp in the tree above us and the sounds of laughter in the park has put me at ease. This is how I want our time to be spent. Relaxing and basking in each other’s company—comfortable and happy.
“Pick a salad,” I tell her. “There’s shrimp Caesar and a chicken quinoa. There’s also a chicken salad sandwich or BLT.”
The plastic containers are stacked in front of her and I can see her mind going a million miles an hour as she tries to decide. Thankfully, the wine has a twist-off top and I unscrew the cap and pour us each a glass of Pinot Grigio. I take a sip and do my best to hide my wince. It’s not Napa Pinot Grigio, but it’s also not the worst I’ve tasted. Just a little bitter.
I hand her a glass of wine and she sets it in the grass, balancing it carefully in the long blades next to her just as she reaches for the Caesar salad and the BLT sandwich.
“This is too much food,” she says, popping the plastic lid open that holds her sandwich. “But who can turn down bacon?” She shrugs, taking a bite of her sandwich, and I can’t help but laugh. “I tried to be a vegetarian once,” she mentions around a mouth full of food. “Then I remembered that I couldn’t eat bacon.” She covers her mouth with her hand before swallowing. “I was technically a vegetarian for four hours. Bacon ruined it for me.”
I tip my head back and laugh, trying to picture it.
“You can take anything away from me but bacon,” she says around a grin. “I just couldn’t live without it.”
That’s how I feel about her. She’s my bacon. I laugh, shaking my head at that thought.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“That’s how I feel about you.” It’s rare I’m so honest, but with Gracie, I can’t help myself. “You’re my bacon.”
She sets her sandwich down and reaches for her glass of wine. “Drew,” she says quietly.
“Gracie, listen,” I begin, cutting her off. “I’m not asking you for forever.” Not right now anyway. I can see myself spending every day for the rest of my life with her, but it’s too soon to tell her that. “Just give me more than six days. Give me a chance. Lean on me. Let me help you. We’re better as a team.”
Her eyes are full of doubt. “How do you know?”
“Because I can feel it here.” I pound my chest just over my heart. “I just know we are.”
She traces the rim of the plastic wine glass with her finger and drops her eyes from mine to her hand.
I clear my throat, angry at myself for feeling choked up. I wanted this to be lighthearted—this picnic, us here, together. “I know we’ve known each other for only a couple of days, but this is… different.” That’s the only word I can use in hopes of not scaring her away. It is different. It’s comfortable…and safe, and I haven’t felt like this about anyone in a long time, especially someone I’ve just met.
She drops her head and sighs. “I need to figure out my mess on my own.”
My jaw tightens. “No, you don’t.”
“Drew—”
“Stop!” I cut her off again, my voice louder than I anticipated. I inhale and exhale, giving myself a moment. “I’m not going to take over and fix this for you, but let me help you figure out how you can fix this.”
She bites her bottom lip and balls her fists in her lap. Before she has the opportunity to say no, I continue.
“Just don’t limit our time together, Gracie. No end date. Let’s just take this day by day, okay? No expectations except that we’ll support each other. No pressure for more.”
Her shoulders fall in defeat and I fight back a grin, not because she feels defeated, not because I won, but because I’ve gotten her to give us a chance.