Page 16 of Aperture

“Awe, thank you. My grandfather helped build it.”

“That’s awesome,” he offers.

“So, I wasn’t sure what to wear since you said it’s a surprise.” I motion to my jeans and sweater. “Is this going to be OK?”

“It’s great,” he says. “But you may want to grab a jacket.”

“I’m intrigued,” I say as I grab my jacket from the front hall closet.

I punch in the alarm code and turn around to face Theo. “All set.”

Theo smiles and follows me out, where we climb into his Bronco. It's an older model, 1970’s, and it smells like him—warm cinnamon and the forest after rain. I have to smile because this car is hot, just like he is. Gwen was right, again.

We pull up to the parking lot at the local state beach, and I turn to face Theo. “I hope we aren’t surfing,” I joke. “I might die.”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “No death on the menu for tonight.”

We get out of the car as he heads around to the back. “Unless the picnic I planned kills you,” he jokes. After grabbing a picnic basket and a blanket from the back, he gestures for me to walk in front of him. “After you.” He smiles.

“I haven’t been on a picnic in years!” I exclaim as we walk down to the beach. I come to the beach often for photo shoots, but I don’t get a chance to sit and enjoy it often anymore. I can’t focus on the hypnotic sounds of the waves and the way the salt air feels against my face. I make a mental note to spend more leisure time at the beach in the future.

We pick a spot by the pier I was at earlier to block some of the wind. It’s a beautiful evening, but we only have about an hour until sunset. Theo lays the blanket out and starts to unpack the basket while I take a seat. I pull my legs up to my chest and rest my chin on my knees, watching him.

Theo stops what he is doing and smiles at me.

“What?” I ask.

“I am just so happy to be here with you,” he says, those dimples appearing on his cheeks.

I bite my lower lip as my heart starts beating faster in my chest.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks. “I brought wine, soda, and water.”

“Wine would be great,” I respond. He grabs a bottle of wine and proceeds to open it while I lay out the charcuterie board he has brought.

“This looks amazing, Theo,” I say sincerely.

We sit next to one another, the heat from his body keeping me warm, and dig into our dinner.

“So, do you mostly do family photography?” he asks.

“No, I do many of those, but also birth announcements, engagement photos, and stuff like that.”

“Where did you go to college,” he asks.

“State, just right up the road,” I tell him. “I wanted to be close to home.”

“I can understand that,” he says with a nod. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” I admit. “I met my best friend there, and some of my favorite memories are from that time.”

“I bet your family is glad you’re back,” he says.

“I have no family left. Well, except for my friends. My parents died when I was little.” I’m used to telling people about it when the subject of family comes up, but I pause for a moment, wondering if I’ve overshared.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, the pain evident in his expression.

“It’s OK.” I shrug. “There’s a lot of people who have worse situations. I’m good.”