“What’s playing tonight?” I ask, and help him spread the blanket on the ground toward the left edge before the screen, against a tree.

“I’m not sure. Probably a chick flick.” He wrinkles his nose at the thought and makes me laugh.

“Not into chick flicks?”

“I’m a guy.”

“Yes, you are.” I kick my shoes off, sink onto the blanket, and glance around at all of the people. “Sit with me.”

“Happily.” He sits, his back to the tree, and pulls me against his chest, between his legs, knees bent. The previews begin and I sigh, completely content. The sun is almost down, leaving us in the glow of the screen and the moonlight behind us.

A few people I recognize, colleagues and parents of students, wave or call out greetings. Some look curiously between Josh and me, and I’m surprised to realize that it doesn’t bother me.

He’s a great guy and I’m happy to be out with him.

Josh wraps his arms around my chest and hugs me to him, kisses the top of my head, and we settle in to watch the movie. The first show is usually family friendly, and the second for more mature audiences, when parents leave to tuck their little ones into bed.

True to form, we are watching Tangled.

“I love this movie,” I murmur, and snuggle against him.

“You do?” He rubs my arms with his palms.

I nod happily and rest my hands on Josh’s thighs. I immediately feel a reaction to my touch: his thigh muscles clench and his cock comes to life against the small of my back. I can’t help but grin.

“Behave yourself,” I mutter, keeping my eyes trained on the movie screen. “There are kids here.”

“Your sexiness is distracting me,” he growls into my ear, and kisses the sensitive skin behind it, sending shivers through me. “Are you cold?”

“No.”

He chuckles and hugs me tight before releasing me to pull the picnic basket to our side. “I brought dessert.”

“What did you bring? Please say chocolate. Raisinets would be good.”

He raises an eyebrow quizzically.

“We’re at the movies. Candy? Popcorn?”

He smirks. “First date,” he reminds me with a smile, his dimple winking down at me.

“What did you bring?”

“Strawberries,” he replies with a straight face. “Covered in chocolate.”

“God bless you,” I say as he holds one up to my lips. I bite through the hard milk chocolate and sweet, juicy berry, and Josh’s eyes greedily watch my mouth. Suddenly I forget about the movie and the dozens of people sitting around us as I take another bite of the delicious treat.

“More?”

“My turn,” I whisper, and reach into the basket for another strawberry and offer it to his mouth. His eyes shine with mischief as he takes a bite and then bends down to kiss me, the chocolate and the juice from the berry on his lips. I lick them clean and he kisses me firmly.

“I’m about to make a scene,” he whispers, making me chuckle.

I pull away from him and munch on chocolate strawberries as he pours me a glass of sweet white wine.

“Red Solo cups are so romantic,” I giggle softly.

“I can’t pour it into wineglasses.” He shakes his head, a wide grin on his face. “Alcohol is prohibited in this park.” He places his finger over his lips, warning me to keep our secret between us, and then takes a sip of my wine before handing it to me.

“You’re not having any?” I take a drink.

“I’m driving us home.”

“Not for a while.”

“That remains to be seen.” He runs the backs of his knuckles down my cheek. “I’m having a very hard time keeping my hands off you.”

Just like that, it’s as if the wind were knocked out of me. He says the sweetest things.

The first movie ends and the crowd stirs, people standing and stretching, gathering blankets and bags of snacks. Kids whine about having to go home to bed. Some parents let their little ones simply sleep on the blankets on the ground while they stay for the second show.

“I’m gonna go use the restroom.” I stand and raise my hands over my head, stretching up on my toes. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay, babe.”

A line wraps around the small brown-brick restroom building, but it seems to be moving fairly quickly. I move to the back of the line and notice a group of women about five people ahead of me.

If there had been “mean girls” in my high school, it would have been two of those three girls. Sunny Lawson and Lauren Cunningham were classmates of Jillian’s and mine, and they were horrible. Both from wealthy families, they were pretty and popular and incredibly snobby. I frown, remembering. Actually, that’s not true. Lauren was always just quiet. She was never cruel, she just hung out with girls who were.

I wonder why?

The third woman, Misty Maddox, is newer to town. I believe she’s only been here for a couple of years, but, boy, does she ever fit in well with that group. I’ve never met a cattier woman.

“. . . Cara Donovan.”

My ears immediately perk up at the sound of my name.

“He’s not interested in Cara.” Misty smirks.

“Didn’t you see them sitting together?” Sunny asks. “He looked interested to me.”

Oh, trust me, he’s interested.

“Why would he be interested in that fat bitch? Trust me, he just feels sorry for her because the tree fell on her house. You know how he is, always saving someone from something.” Misty shakes her head condescendingly.