Fifteen long minutes later, Hope pushed the pantry door open and peeked her head in. “You still here?”

He was sitting naked and cross-legged on the blanket, his hand stuffed in a box of Froot Loops strategically placed on his lap. “You got any milk?”

She couldn’t help the laugh that erupted. “Are you having a picnic? And I wasn’t invited?”

“You left me for Walter. It’s your own damn fault.” He winked playfully at her as he stood up. “I’m starving. You think the milk is still good?”

“How about you get dressed and then we can take a ride into town to deal with your car and grab some food. I know a cute cafe we can hit up.” She snaked her hand into the box and pulled out a small fist of cereal before he could close it up. Smiling, she tossed the loops into her mouth and began chewing. “You’re right; we need milk.”

Less than thirty minutes later, after they both took a quick shower, separately, they were back in her Range Rover and on the way into town. Though it was late September, the air was pleasantly warm. The sun sparkled through the red, golden, and green leaves, creating the most brilliant color palette nature could provide.

“I should have brought my camera,” Gage murmured as he watched the blazing colors of the tree line whiz by.

“We can go out later if you want, either in the boat or I know some great spots on the back roads. I should take you to this covered bridge over off Route 2. You would love it.”

He turned his gaze from the window, an easy smile gracing his face, his eyes crinkling in delight. “That would be amazing.” His eyes swept down her form, appreciation apparent at her more relaxed state of dress of faded boyfriend jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and black sneakers. Quite a contrast, not only compared to the dress she’d been wearing when they met, but she knew she also felt more relaxed. Though they’d just met, Hope had felt a level of peace take hold of her overnight.

She turned her eyes away from the road and gave him a quick glance. “What are you staring at?”

His cheeks turned upward, again with those damn green eyes crinkling. “You seem more relaxed today. Happier.”

She met his smile with one of her own and admitted, “I am. I love it here. The lake house is where I feel most at home.”

“Why don’t you live here full time then, instead of the city?”

She shrugged as she replied, “Work. I love that, too, and I need to be in the city most of the time for that.”

“How often do you get to come up here then?”

“Not as much as I’d like; that’s for sure.” She pointed out the windshield for him to look ahead. “Look, there’s the little cafe I was telling you about. It looks open!”

“Good, because I’m starving.”

She laughed. “That seems to be an ongoing situation for you.”

“Feed me then, woman. I am a man and need sustenance!”

They were both laughing as they rolled into the parking lot, and she slid into one of the available spots, shutting off the engine. He jumped out and made his way around to her side, pulling the door open, startling her as she gathered her purse.

“Oh!” Her eyes went from him to the door to him again. “Are you opening the door for me?”

He held out his hand to help her step out of the truck and nodded. “Don’t men usually do that for you?”

She scoffed, “Only my paid driver.”

An odd look appeared on his face at her statement, his eyebrows raising in question. “No one? Not an ex-boyfriend?”

Now, it was her turn to raise her eyebrows and reply dryly, “Let’s not go there.” That just wasn’t a conversation she was comfortable having at the moment. Again, he pulled the door open for her and waited for her to enter first. She smiled appreciatively. “Looks like your momma raised you right.”

They were immediately greeted by a hostess upon entering, who may have had one too many cups of coffee that morning. “Well, good morning, you two! Can I get you a table? Are you wanting breakfast with us today, and is it just you two lovebirds?”

Gage took that opening to wrap his arm around Hope’s waist and pull her close to him. “Yep, just us two lovebirds this morning.” He then brushed a kiss across the top of her head, and she heard his soft inhale as if he were smelling the lemony scent of her shampoo. “We’ve worked up quite an appetite this morning.”

Hope’s eyes flew wide at the same time her mouth fell open, and she turned to gawk at him. He gave her a quick wink and pulled her to follow the waitress, who was giggling behind the menus at his insinuation. She sat them at a small table by the window, handing the menus over before scurrying back to the hostess station.

“You are wicked,” she hissed across the table, trying to suppress the grin threatening to break across her features.

“Being bad is so much more fun, don’t you think?” He tilted his head in question, his eyes crinkling again around the corners before he lifted the menu and broke their contact.

She kept her gaze locked on him, even though she could no longer see his face. She was content to take in the way the cords of his finely muscled arms moved when he drummed his fingers across the back of the menu, or looking at the bottom half of the cross tattoo as it peeked out beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. Well, her brother’s t-shirt. She had given him a shirt to wear, but he chose to wear the jeans he had on last night, claiming they were ‘mostly’ dry. She was remembering how good his butt looked in those jeans when he plopped his menu flat on the table.

“You gonna order off the menu, or do you have something else in mind?” He cocked his head, a wicked grin on his face.

“Of course, I’m ordering off the menu. What else is there?” She decided to play dumb and not feed his ego, grabbing the menu out from under his hands and reading it.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” He chuckled and sighed in relief when a waitress appeared with a pot of hot coffee and two mugs in her hand.

“Coffee?” She set the mugs down on the table as she asked.

“Yes!” They both answered in unison and reached for a mug.

“Rough night? Storm got pretty bad for a while.” The waitress, whose name tag read Tilly, moved to fill both their mugs with hot, steamy, liquid caffeine.

Hope and Gage shared a quick look across the table, both smiling a bit shyly, before he responded. “Nope. Wasn’t too bad at all. Pretty good, actually.”

“Well, I guess you both got lucky then, huh?” Tilly pulled some creamers out of her apron and plopped them on the table between them.

Gage looked directly at Hope as he answered, his gaze dark, “Yep, I sure did.”

“You two know what you’d like?” She set the coffee pot down on the table and pulled a pen and pad out of her magical supply apron, ready to jot down their orders.

“You know what you want?” He moved his hand to gesture toward Hope. “Ladies first.”

She smiled at him while shaking her head at his bravado and then turned her attention to Tilly. “I’ll have the Sunrise Special, over easy, wheat toast please.”

“You want any meat with that? We’ve got bacon, sausage, ham, or steak.”

“Bacon would be great. Thanks.”

Tilly turned her attention to Gage. “What about you, handsome?”

“I’ll have the same, but I’ll take sausage, please. And I’d like a glass of orange juice.”

“You got it.” Tilly turned to leave. “Be back in a jiff. Just shout if you need something.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison again. They shook their heads in light laughter at their repeated ‘jinx’ and then each took a mug of coffee. He drank his as it was, hot and black, humming in appreciation after a deep sip. She emptied in her third creamer, after putting two sugars in, before stirring and finally bringing the mug to her lips.

“Can you even taste the coffee?” he asked sarcastically.

A frown brought the curve of her lips downward. “Oh, hush up. I like a little flavor in my coffee, you big brute.”

“I see that.” He chuckled and took another long sip from his mug. She watched his eyes follow the trail of her gaze to the tattoo on his arm before he looked back at her, eyebrows raised. “Don’t like the tattoo?”

She shook her head quickly. “No! That’s not it at all. Don’t laugh, but I’ve actually never dated anyone that’s had one before.”

He chuckled at her flustered statement. “Why doesn’t that surprise me? You do seem a little… uptown?”

She scrunched up her nose. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I live in the city, just like you.”

“I’m sure you live in a neighborhood a lot nicer than mine, though, right?”

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly in response. “I like it.” He looked at her curiously. “The tattoo,” she clarified, pointing to his arm. “Well, tattoos. What do they mean?”

He looked down at his arm and, using his opposite hand, scrunched the material of the sleeve up so she could see the entire Celtic cross on his upper arm. “Well, in case it wasn’t obvious by my name, or dark hair and green eyes, I’m Irish.” He looked up at her then and waggled his eyebrows.

“That much I figured out,” she responded wryly. “What about the swirly one on your other arm and chest?”

“That’s a brotherhood tribal tattoo that my unit and I got after we finished our last deployment.” He reached up and absently ran his hand over his other arm.

“And Faith?” She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling the tattoo had nothing to do with his belief in God and everything to do with a woman, and when she saw the dark shadows sweep across his expression, she knew she was correct.

Just at that moment, Tilly arrived, breaking the tension by setting down a full plate in front of each of them. “There you go, folks. I’ll be right back with your juice, handsome.”

They looked at each other over the steam coming up off their plates, still silent when Tilly came back, placing the juice in front of Gage and asking if they needed anything else.

Gage shook his head. “No thanks, I think we’re good. Thank you again.”

She nodded her head and flitted back into action at another table next to them.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” she said quietly as she picked up a fork and poked at the food on her plate. “I wasn’t trying to pry.”

Both his hands were laid flat on the table as he looked down at his plate and then slowly up at her. “Faith was my little sister. She died six years ago. The tattoo is for her.”

Hope’s fork stopped midway to her mouth as a knife sliced through her heart at the pain she could hear in his voice. She knew that pain. She felt it often when she thought of her mother. Her fork met the table, and she moved her hand to place it over his.

“I’m so sorry, Gage. I had no idea. I figured an old girlfriend.” She squeezed his hand, and he looked up at her, a weak smile crossing his features. “Truly, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

He reached over with his other hand to cover hers. “Like you said last night, you think after six years it would get easier, but it doesn’t.” His eyes softened. “I know you weren’t prying.”

He released her hand and moved to pick up his fork in a signal that the conversation was over. She mimicked his move and began to eat.

The herbs in the fried potatoes exploded on her tongue, causing her to moan loudly. “Oh my God! Those are so good! Taste them.”

He smiled broadly and scooped a forkful into his mouth, humming in appreciation. And just like that, the tension of the moment was forgotten.