Lydia was surprised how hard it was to watch Wrench walk away, even when she knew it would only be for a brief time. There was something about his presence that put her at ease, even while it made her restless and full of longing—this odd dichotomy that somehow completed her.

She showered swiftly, hopeful to meet him at the kitchen to save him the walk up to the spa. But as she was toweling off, she felt him start his return trip unexpectedly and she paused. Had something gone wrong? He couldn’t have picked food from the buffet so quickly, could he?

She finished drying with alacrity, and applied a touch of quick lipstick that probably wouldn’t survive the meal anyway.

Wrench came around the narrow path to the courtyard rather than through the spa, and Lydia was delighted to see that he was carrying a heavy basket. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

“Breck packed it,” Wrench said abruptly, as if he was worried she’d think he was trying to take credit for it.

“Right now, I’d eat a rake,” Lydia admitted. “I’m ready.” She slipped shoes onto her feet and put her hand at the crook of Wrench’s elbow. “Let’s go down the back way.”

She led him out the back entrance of her little courtyard, down to the far side of the kitchen complex, past the hotel and down to the dark side of the pool deck where their first disastrous date had been.

From there, they could take the steps down to the beach. Lydia wriggled out of her shoes and put them on the grass where the sand began. Wrench untied his shoes awkwardly and peeled off his socks to put next to them.

“I know a place,” she said, and she slipped her hand into his, thrilled by his touch.

He was clearly not used to walking in sand; stomping did not work, and though his balance was excellent, he floundered through it with brute force rather than grace. Lydia led him down to where the water had hardened the sand, and the walking was easier.

They passed one other couple braving the moonlight, then had the sand to themselves.

Across the crescent of pale sand, away from the lights of the resort, Lydia took Wrench up the bank to a place under the trees, right next to a downed trunk. A pile of discarded beach treasure had been accumulated in a heap nearby: broken shells and bits of coral and colored rock.

Wrench looked up sensibly. “Should we worry about coconuts or something?” he asked.

“Not here,” Lydia assured him. She went to take the basket from him, nearly dropping it due to its unexpected weight.

Then she spread out the feast.

A blanket went down over the scrubby sand, corners weighted by bottles of beer (for Wrench) and a bottle of ginger ale (for Lydia). “They don’t usually let people bring glass to the beach,” Lydia said to Wrench appraisingly. “But there are perks to working here.”

“You break it, you rake it,” Wrench repeated Bastian’s familiar warning.

He pulled out a little electric lantern and set it up while Lydia unpacked the food. There were sandwiches for each of them—Wrench’s was almost entirely red roast beef and hers was a leafy vegetable and hummus concoction drizzled with truffle oil and red wine vinegar. The bread was thick and fresh and fluffy.

Chef’s twice mashed potato coins were as good cold as they were hot, and were paired with a lightly fermented cabbage salad with carrots and beets. There were two generous slices of a spicy pecan pie for dessert.

“Oof,” Lydia said, once she had inhaled everything and licked all the last crumbs from her fingers. “That was amazing.”

“Better than I expected,” Wrench agreed, his own food gone just as fast.

She scooted a little closer to him on the blanket, so they were both leaning against the downed tree trunk. “Well done, Warren,” she told him. “This date’s already got an A, and there’s still a chance for extra credit.”

Wrench gave a guffaw of laughter that surprised them both. “Long as you ain’t going to ask me to move again for a bit,” he said. “I ain’t put down a sandwich that size since I was a teenager.”

This would have been the point where anyone else would have put an arm around her, but Wrench didn’t offer to. Lydia wondered if he would move away if she scooted closer. The heat that radiated from his side was magnetic.

“I plan to go nowhere for a while,” Lydia agreed. Before them, the moonlight reflected in shimmering ripples off the ocean surface. Frogs and insects made a familiar drone in the air. If it weren’t for the new need growing in her core, Lydia would have been utterly content to spend hours here.

Then there was an odd rumble, and the ground beneath them gave a buck and a growl and shook like a dog coming out of water.

Lydia and Wrench tried to stand, and failed, each ending up on their knees as the motion finally subsided. Wrench wrapped his arms around Lydia, holding her tight and tucking her under him as big leaves and small fruit pattered down all around them.