Chapter 36: Picnic on the Beach

We walk back up to the picnic. He helps me sit down on the blanket, then takes the spot next to me. He flips the top of the basket open and begins pulling out the food inside.

My mouth waters and my stomach growls as I catch sight of all the food - there are tons of pastries and muffins, a big bowl of fresh fruit, and shiny yogurt with golden granola. Underneath is an earthenware container clearly meant to keep things warm, and inside there's sausage and eggs and herb-dusted potatoes. I'm drooling.

Before I dive head-first into the food, Rafe grabs a bottle from the side of the basket.

"There's coffee," he says, "but what do you say we start this off with something a little more fun? Bloody Mary or mimosa? Pick your poison."

This time, I remember. "I, uh, probably shouldn't be drinking," I point out.

"Oh. Right." He has that odd look again for the briefest of seconds, then tosses the bottle of vodka aside. It rolls and settles in the sand. The bottle of champagne ends up next to i