Sam pulled the car to the curb and turned off the ignition with a bemused expression on his face. As the motor died down, he turned to me, the setting sun reflecting in his eyes and turning them almost golden.

"This isn't a restaurant," He stated, a question in his voice.

"Did I ever say it would be?" I returned.

"Fair enough," He said. "Here, let me help you out." He came around the car and helped me out of the plush leather seats.

I pulled him by the hand, excitement overtaking me. "Come on!" I laughed. "It's right up this hill."

"How are you walking so quickly in heels?" He asked. In response, I started running up the paved slope. he laughed and raced me to the top of the hill. When we reached the top, Sam panting as he came up behind me, I couldn't believe my eyes. Quinn had done an amazing job setting up.

A checkered blanket was laid out on the ground, covered with pillows and softer blankets for when the sun went down. An old silver lantern, polished like new, stood ready to be lit next to a basket of food that Quinn and I had prepared earlier. Flowers filled a small vase on a plate next to the food, which consisted of sandwiches, fruit, fresh bread and butter, and a small strawberry cake.

"It's perfect," Sam said gratefully, wrapping his arm around my waist and giving me a hug. I let my wind-chilled cheek rest against his rough coat for just a moment, taking in the scene. Then I broke away and settled down among the pillows.

"Let's eat!" I said, patting a cushion next to me. As he sat down, I said, "It's not very fancy, but—"

"First of all," He cut me off, picking up the loaf of bread. "You brought a baguette. That automatically makes any meal French, and the French are nothing if not fancy. Secondly," he continued as I laughed, "do you really think that I care about fancy? You've seen what kind of car my brother and I drive, the kinds of places I visit, the kinds of clothes I wear. 'Fancy' is the last word I'd use to describe myself." He opened the container of raspberries and popped one into his mouth.

"Come on," I responded, reprovingly. "I've talked to you and seen how smart you are; I've seen how well you clean up when you want to— you do!" I exclaimed as he laughed. "And I've seen how you are the most gentlemanly man I've met in a long time. Now where does that come from if you aren't a little bit 'fancy'?" I finished laying out the food and began unwrapping a sandwich. Sam did the same.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe from Stanford."

"Wait, you went to Stanford?" I asked.

"Yeah. I thought I mentioned it last night."

"You most certainly did not." I say reprovingly, as I passed him a slice of bread and butter.

"Well, I went. Now I don't," he shrugged. "It's as simple as that."

"It's not as simple as that!" I exclaim, my mouth full of my sandwich. "Did you know a girl named Jules Greene?"

"I-" Sam began, but a wind sprung up and blew away most of the napkins. Sam and I chased after them, corralling as many we could. When we sat down again, my hair pins had come loose, and my hair had gone wild in the wind.

"So much for my curls," I shrugged, a tiny bit disappointed. Sam's strong, gentle fingers tucked the errant strands behind my ear. "Your hair looks beautiful. Everything about you looks absolutely stunning." He leaned over and brushed his lips against my cheek, leaving a warm mark where they touched.

"Same to you, darling," I said, then laughed at myself, embarrassed.

"Darling." He tasted the name, then grinned slowly. "I like it."

"I'm glad, dearest."

He just smiled and kissed my cheek again.

We sat comfortably, eating and enjoying each other's company. At one point, Sam reached for my hand, and I sat savoring his touch. He told me about his childhood, how his mom had died when he was a baby and how ever since he had traveled around the country, first with his dad and now with his brother.

"I resented my dad for not letting us have a normal life. Sometimes I still do. But I try to live day to day, not dwelling on the past. Even when the past sometimes comes back to bite you."

I didn't understand this last part, but I didn't press him. I was just happy he trusted me enough to tell me about his life. I got the feeling he didn't open up often, not even with his brother.

In return, I told him my story – how when I was little, my mom had miscarried twice. When she did have a pregnancy carry to term, we were overjoyed that my brother was healthy.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Sam said.

"Well, I did have a brother," I said, my voice growing smaller. "When he was 16, he got in with a bad crowd from outside of town. He made some bad decisions and got into trouble. There was a shootout."

"Oh, Grace, I'm so sorry," Sam said.

"He lived," I was quick to add. "But after he recovered from getting shot, he was tried and sentenced to 30 years in prison for shooting someone else. My parents disowned him, and he rejected us all."

Sam didn't say anything, just pulled me toward him and held me. I stayed there, hidden from the world in the safe folds of his jacket. After a few minutes, I laughed a little and asked,

"Why do we keep ending up in situations like this?" I said, thinking of our quiet moment earlier in the bathroom.

Sam chuckled. "I don't know. It didn't work out too terribly last time, though, so I'm not going to complain."

I pushed away from him at that, pretending to be offended. "Oh, I see how it is!" I huffed. "It's true, isn't it! Men only want one thing."

"No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I only said that because I thought you thought the same thing. I didn't mean to offend you, I promise. How can I make it up to you?" His eyes pleaded with me, so I gave in.

"Hey, it's okay! I was just messing with you. I'm not mad, I promise. And yes, I was thinking the same thing."

Sam's face flooded with relief. "Oh, thank god."

When we both had finished and packed away the food, Sam leaned back on the pillows, gazing up at the first stars. I laid down next to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I love being here with you," I said, my breath making a thin cloud in the air above me.

"This is perfect," Sam responded, wrapping his arm around me. "I wish we could stay here forever."

I pulled up the blanket around us as a realization dawned on me. I tried to push the thought away, but the idea caused me to lapse into silence. Sam sensed my mood shift and raised his head to look down at me.

"Hey, what happened? Did I say something?"

I looked up into his face. His brow was knit in concern and his soft brown eyes trained a loving glance on me. "Just... I remembered that we can't stay here forever. You've leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"

Sam's face relaxed ever so slightly. "I think so," he said gently. "But what does that have to do with tonight? With right now? Anything could happen tomorrow. What matters to me is that right now I'm here with you."

I threw my arm around him, pressing myself tighter against him and breathing in his clean, outdoorsy smell. "I'm glad to be here with you too. Just I'm... I'm going to miss you."

"We don't what will happen tomorrow. I might stay," he said, trying to convince me. We both knew that what he said was unlikely. But then again, wasn't our meeting, our relationship, our everything? I decided to let it go and just enjoy the moment. I took a deep breath and laid back on Sam's soft flannel shirt. We stayed quiet, looking at the sky and enjoying each other's warmth.

********

After a soft, sleepy eternity, I sat up. Immediately the chill of the air caused goosebumps to appear on my arms. Sam propped himself up on one elbow. The lantern light gleams on his hair, making it seem almost blond in the soft light.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" His voice, deep and smooth yet soft and gentle, set off a spark. I felt desire blazing in me in a way I had never felt before. I wanted Sam, all of him, for myself, and I wanted him now. An ache went through me, causing me to shiver even more.

"You're cold? Here, take my jacket," Sam said, stripping off his coat and wrapping it around my shoulders. "It doesn't really go with your outfit, I'm afraid." He smiled. "By any chance, did you go to Catholic school?"

I leaned forward and kissed him, grabbing his face with my hands. He seemed surprised at first, then gave in, his body melting against mine. He leaned back and I laid on top of him, straying from his lips as I kissed his foreheads, his cheeks, his neck. I could feel his strong arms encircling me, pulling me closer to him. I willingly obliged.

After a minute, I pulled back and smiled down at him. "I did, in fact. An all-girls one," I said, answering his previous question. "However did you guess?"

"Lucky me," Sam said. He smiled and rolled his eyes as he pulled me down to him again.

After what could have been hours, I pushed back. I sat back on my heels, letting the cool night air waft against my flushed face. Sam looked up at me from where he still lay on his back. His suit was disheveled, and his hair mussed, yet he looked even more dashing than before. My lipstick had stained his cheek, leaving a faint red mark that looked like a permanent, one sided blush.

He said, after a minute, "That was new."

I chuckled softly and pushed my hair out of my face. "Yeah – sorry about that."

"Don't be." He sat up to face me, leaning forward and wrapping his arm once again around my waist. "I liked it."

Another shiver of pleasure ran down my spine. "Let's go back to my house." I whispered, running my fingers through his hair. "I have something to tell you."

"Aw, can't you tell me here?" he pouted. I laughed, the sound echoing on that clear night, and stood up.

"No, only at my house. Now come on lover boy, let's get this place cleaned up."

********

After packing away the food and place settings, I carried the pillows and blankets down the hill. I had taken off my heels earlier, and now I let the cool grass tickle my feet as I trekked back and forth. Sam insisted on carrying the other things, like the basket and the lantern. When everything was stored in the trunk of the Impala, I gratefully slid into the passenger seat. Sam reached over as he got into the car, showing me a small, cream-colored wildflower he had picked from the top of the hill. He brushed my hair back and tucked it behind my ear. "A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl," he murmured in a voice so low it made me ache. I slid across the seat and tucked my arm into his as he drove us home. One of my hands fingered the delicate petals, almost subconsciously.

I grew more nervous as we neared the house, the rumbling of the engine underneath us matching the butterflies in my stomach. I was sure that he could feel my heartbeat as I leaned against his muscled arm. Whenever I had passed Sam on the hill as we loaded the car, we had locked eyes, brushing ever so slightly against each other when we had the chance. Our touches were electric, sending tingles radiating throughout my body.

As Sam stopped the car and opened the door, I turned him back toward me, giving him a long, sweet, lingering kiss. I tried to capture the dim light of the stars, the musty smell of the car, the way Sam's suit felt as it pressed against my arms. When we pulled apart, he seemed pleased, if a bit bewildered.

"What was that for?" He asked.

"Just to remember," I answered simply.

He helped me out of the car. Careful to lock it, we made our way slowly inside, then climbed the stairs without pausing. Every motion was slow, deliberate, and in sync. We shut my bedroom door behind us, and I hung my arms around Sam's neck, pressing his back against the wood.

"What is it you were hiding from me at the park?" He asked, a bemused expression on his face.

"My answer is yes." I responded simply.