Whoa. Cold. Bending down, she quickly pushed her hands under the water. A smooth stone caught her attention and she picked it up. Then moving out of the chilly water, she threw it up into the air. She giggled as it made a plopping sound.
“That looks like fun,” he said.
She turned with surprise. She hadn’t even heard him approach. “Oh, you gave me a fright.”
“Sorry, Mari-girl.” He was glancing around then bent down and picked up a round, smooth stone. “Ooh, here’s a good one. Can you skip stones?”
“Skip stones? What’s that?”
“Your childhood is sadly lacking.” He shook his head. “City dwellers.”
“Hey,” she protested, making herself grin. It wasn’t being raised in the city that was at fault, but rather that she hadn’t had much of a childhood.
He turned side-on then flung his arm back then forward, letting the stone go. It skipped along the water.
“Eight skips, not bad,” he commented.
“That was awesome. I want to try.”
She picked up a stone and tried to imitate what he’d done. The stone flung into the water and sank. Her lower lip dropped out. “Something was wrong with my stone.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “I think it might have had something to do with technique as well.”
She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Here, find a stone that’s nice and flat. Like this one. Now hold it like this.” He taught her how to hold it. “Turn side-on and pull your arm back and use your wrist to fling it.”
She let the stone go. It sank.
With a sigh, she turned away dejectedly. “Hey, where are you going?” He caught hold of her arm, stopping her.
“Back to the picnic blanket. I’m obviously no good at this.” Like most things.
“You just need to practice, teeny,” he soothed. “Let me help you. Here’s another stone.” Instead of directing her verbally this time, he stepped in close behind her. Taking hold of her arm, he pulled it back. She had to repress a shiver of arousal as he stood so close that she could feel his hard body, his warmth. She longed to lean back, to give him her weight as he grasped hold of her.
“You listening, Mari-girl? Or are you away with the fairies?”
“I’m listening. I’m listening.” She wasn’t daydreaming about him touching her. Nope. Not her.
He went through the movement of her arm a few times then stepped away. She immediately missed his touch. She let the stone go and it skipped across the water four times. She jumped up and down with a squeal. “Yes!”
“Good job! High five!”
She slammed her palm against his.
“Well done, little one. I knew you could do it.”
“Again,” she demanded. Five stones later and she could now get up to ten skips across the water. Mastered it. She started searching around for another one.
“Come on, now. Come eat.”
“One more,” she said absentmindedly.
“You can throw some more after lunch. You must be hungry.”
Her stomach chose that moment to growl. She blushed. Whoops. Maybe she was a bit hungry.
“Think we better get some food into you.” He took her hand and she snatched up her sandals before he led her back to the blanket. She stared in amazement at the abundance of food he had laid out. Sitting, she laid her sandals next to her.
There was pasta salad, egg salad sandwiches, cut up carrot and cucumber with ranch dip. And some cupcakes with chocolate icing that looked absolutely delicious.
“Yum, this looks great!”
“Good. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
“Did you make this?” she asked.
“Ahh, I did.”
She gaped at him.
He grinned. “What? You didn’t think cowboys could bake and cook?”
“What? No, that’s not it,” she said hastily.
His grin widened.
“Okay, maybe I did think that. Sorry.”
He shrugged and grabbed a plate, putting a sandwich, some salad and some of the sliced veggies on it. Then he handed it over to her. She took hold of it.
“My nana taught me how to cook and bake. I don’t always have much time for it, but I enjoy it.”
“But you must have gotten up early to make all this?”
He shrugged. “I’m an early riser.”
Even after being at a wedding the night before? The thought of him making all this for her flooded her with happiness. If he was willing to do this for a friend, what would he do for a girlfriend? He filled his own plate then nodded to her. “Eat.”
“Oh, I can’t.”
“What? Why not?” He frowned.
“I have to umm, do something, first.”
Shoot.
Just tell him. You have no reason to be ashamed.
But when she’d told people in the past, she’d had mixed reactions. From people telling her that she needed to cut all sugar from her diet, to explaining that she should exercise more. On the other side of the coin, there were people that were completely uninterested.
“Do something first?” His face cleared. “You’ve got to pee? You’ll have to go behind a bush.”
“What?” Pee? Oh crap. She hadn’t thought about that. There were no toilets out here. And now that he’d mentioned it . . .
Nope. No way. Not happening. She wasn’t peeing behind a bush. That sounded horrible.
You are a total city person, aren’t you?
One worry at a time.
“No, I don’t have to pee. Thank God.”
“Then what’s wrong?” His eyebrows rose. “Do you have to—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there because I’m not sure what other bodily function you’re going to come up with next. No, uh, here’s the thing. I have to check my blood sugar level. I can just turn my back so you don’t see me do it.”
“Your blood sugar level? You’re diabetic?”
“Yep, Type One.”
“Why didn’t you say anything? Check it. Wait, why would you turn your back?”
“Some people don’t like to watch when I prick my finger.”
“A bit of blood doesn’t worry me,” he told her dryly. Although he was frowning slightly. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was he upset that she was a diabetic?
She took out the monitor and lancet device. She pricked her finger then placed the drop of blood on the new test strip in the blood glucose monitor.
“What did it say?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s good.”
“I don’t know much about diabetes,” he admitted. “I hope you don’t mind me asking you questions.”
“No, I don’t mind,” she said quietly. Questions were good. At least he wasn’t immediately telling her what she should do or making assumptions about her life. “I need to take my insulin.”
“Right, by injection, yes? Where do you do it?”
“Usually in my stomach or thigh, sometimes my arm.”
“Can’t you get like a pump or something?”
“Yeah, you can. But my insurance doesn’t cover it,” she told him as she cleaned her hands with a wipe then prepared the syringe. “You can get pens too which are easier, but my insurance doesn’t fully cover them either.” She cleaned her skin with an alcoholic wipe then injected the insulin into her tummy. “It’s okay, I’m normally pretty good at keeping it under control. It’s just sometimes I’ll forget to eat.”