"What we need to know about loving is no great mystery. We all know what constitutes loving behavior; we need but act upon it, not continually question it. Over-analysis often confuses the issue and in the end brings us no closer to insight. We sometimes become too busy classifying, separating, and examining, to remember that love is easy. It's we who make it complicated."
~ Leo Buscaglia ~
I knew interrogating Maria and Phil would have to wait after my date with Parker. I wasn’t completely sure of my accusation, so I wanted to make sure my assumption was well warranted before I did anything stupid.
Plus, I was really, really looking forward to spending some time alone with him.
“This is the place you thought of?” I questioned as we climbed over the familiar barrier of rocks and jumped onto the private area of sandy beach, trees lining the far edge. The waves rolled and crashed onto the shore.
“Yep,” he stated, peering at me cautiously. “Do you like it?”
I grinned widely, taking his hand in my own. “I love it.”
“Good.” He rolled out the blanket and set down the basket, pulling out food. I folded my legs beneath me on the checkered fabric and chuckled.
“You Landings and your picnics,” I teased. Parker winked.
“What can I say? We’re cheap.”
I laughed, popping a grape into my mouth. It was an overcast day, the slightly colder temperatures speaking of a nearing December. It was a relatively cool day. I wore jeans but only a short-sleeved shirt. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering slightly.
“Here,” Parker offered, draping his jacket over my shoulders. It was huge on me. “I run hot.”
“That’s right,” I muttered, pushing my arms through the sleeves, sincerely missing the days I did, too. “Thanks.”
We ate in a companionable silence for the first ten or so minutes, steadily making our way through the food he brought. The none-too-gentle breeze continued to blow but I wasn’t about to complain. Not when I had Parker there with me.
“Thanks for the picnic,” I muttered when I was full, picking at the soft blanket.
“My treat,” he smiled, tucking the remaining food away. I felt his eyes on me, and then his hand appeared and covered mine. “What’s the matter?”
I looked up at him, not even bothering to hide the mess of emotions that must have been visible in my eyes. “I’ve just been thinking.”
“Uh-oh.” He tugged me over so I was lying down, my head on his lap. He sifted his fingers comfortingly through my hair. “That’s never good.”
“Hush,” I laughed softly, smacking his leg. And then in a quieter voice I admitted, “I’m scared, Parker.”
His fingers grazed my neck, leaving goose bumps behind. “Why?”
YOU ARE READING
Ocean Eyes
WerewolfAfter a tragedy leaves her broken and unable to shift, June West has steadily been trying to put her life back together. But when her pack thinks it will be good for her to spend time away from werewolves, they send her to live with her Aunt Theresa...
