I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(81)

Chase leads me over to the blanket. When a warm gust of air blows a strand of my hair across my face, my attentive boy brushes it back. “It’s usually pretty nice up here, but you make it positively stunning.”

“Chase…” From any other man, Chase’s words might sound cheesy, but his voice holds such sincerity there’s no doubt these words, these consonants and vowels, come only from his heart. And that leaves me speechless, my own consonants and vowels trailing off into air around us.

Chase kneels down on the blanket and reaches for my hand. I place my fingers in his palm and lower myself down next to him. I tuck my legs to one side so I don’t give Chase a show. Well, not yet anyway.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, a smirk playing at his lips.

That smug expression tells me that, despite my attempt to be discreet when I sat down, my boy still caught a peek of the cute pink lace panties I chose for tonight.

“A little,” I reply, getting back to his question.

Chase reaches to under the ledge. There’s a shopping bag tucked underneath and I can’t imagine why. But when my full-of-surprises guy pulls a baguette out of the bag—then a round of brie—my eyes widen.

“Wow,” I say as he places both items on the blanket. “This is a surprise!”

He catches my eye and smiles. “There’s more.”

I am already beyond impressed, but Chase isn’t done yet. He pulls two wine glasses out of the bag and places them on the blanket, next to the baguette and brie. With the setting sun as a background, Chase pours white wine into each of the glasses. The candles flicker, making the gold-toned liquid shimmer. My boy begins to add something from a bottle labeled crème de cassis, and I raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a liqueur,” he explains. “You add just a small amount to the wine.”

When he sees I’m a little baffled, he elaborates, “I found the recipe on the Internet earlier today. The liqueur added to the wine creates a drink called Kir. The article next to the recipe said it’s popular in France. You can buy it at almost any restaurant or café. And it’s supposedly very good.” He finishes pouring and proffers me a glass. “Guess we’ll find out.”

As the sun drips and melts into the horizon, and the beautiful man sitting next to me picks up his own glass filled with this supposedly popular French drink, I feel a little overwhelmed, a little choked up, but in the best way possible. Whether it’s his intention or not, Chase is giving me more than a romantic, French-themed rooftop picnic, he’s giving me a memory, one I can hold on to, when things inevitably get tough. I see now what my sweet, sweet boy has done. This surprise is perfection. It’s tangible, yet not. Truly, it’s boundless.

“What do you think?” Chase asks.

I take a sip of the blush-tinged Kir…and wow! “Mmm, this is delicious,” I gush.

Chase tears a small piece from the baguette and spreads a little brie on top. He places the bread at my lips, and I take a bite. “Better than chips and pretzels?” he asks, referring to our impromptu lunch in the gymnasium.

I laugh and nod. And then I admire.

Chase Gartner is so unaware of how gorgeous he really, truly is. He’s always handsome, but he looks especially so right now. He’s all tousled tawny hair, pale blue eyes, and perfect features, the waning daylight muting everything to soft focus. My boy also has a touch of a tan from the days he works outside in the sun, so his skin is slightly darker than usual. He’s sun-kissed and stunning before me.

Chase asks me if I like the brie-on-baguette, and I nod enthusiastically, partially because I do, but mostly because the guy feeding it to me looks so damn amazing. “It’s fantastic, Chase. I love it.”

As the sun sets, we eat and drink. We savor our rooftop Parisian picnic. When we’re just about done, Chase reaches into the shopping bag once more and presents dessert.

“Do you like chocolate mousse?” he asks as he spoons a portion and feeds me a creamy bite.

“Yes, absolutely,” I say before I swallow the fluffy bit of heaven.

My boy takes a bite of his own, and I ask, “So, Chase, all of this is so decadent and romantic.” I gesture around. “I love everything, very much, but I’m curious as to how you came up with this idea.”

My boy smiles and looks down as he swirls the spoon in his chocolate mousse. “You gave me the idea, sweet girl, that day in the gym, our pretending with the chips and pretzels.” He shrugs. “I don’t know. That day was so good, and you seemed so happy. I thought maybe if I gave you the real thing I might make you even happier.”

I touch his arm. “I am happy, Chase. I was then, and I am now. This is wonderful. You always make me happy.”

“You said you wished we could go to Paris, remember?” Gunmetal blues hold my gaze and I nod once. “I wish I could take you there, Kay, I do. I would in a heartbeat, I promise. But since I can’t, I decided I’d try to bring Paris to you.”

My heart skips a beat. “This is better than Paris, Chase. Really, it is.”

And it is. Nothing could top where I am right now, up here on this rooftop, drinking Kir, and being fed bits of brie-covered baguette and chocolate mousse by a beautiful, complex, thoughtful man. A man I’ve fallen head over heels for, a man I fall for a little more each day.

I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “I love you,” I whisper.