The air of late spring draped them like satin. It refreshed and soothed. Tina leaned back on the picnic blanket and watched her companion. Emotion found expression in movement. She studied his smile, the hitch of his eyebrows, and the grace of his shoulder to elbow to wrist to hand.
Mike didn't speak as he opened the pottle of strawberries. The breeze ruffled the grass around them. Nor did he speak as he poured her a glass of sparkling cider. The wax paper from their sandwiches threatened to tumble off the blanket.
Mike's kiss tasted of smiles, sweetness, and summer.
