Sitting on a blanket in a shady spot in the botanical gardens, Jacob chuckled at a story Cassandra was telling involving her co-workers Ezekiel and the slightly mysterious Mr. Jenkins. He thought he might actually like Jenkins whereas Ezekiel seemed like trouble all over. While she was telling the story, he was cleaning up the remains of their picnic. He'd offered to provide the food but she'd told him to just bake pie, she'd do the rest. She'd provided an assortment of sandwiches and potato salad that he was pretty sure was homemade. She'd had the sense to bring a cooler with little wheels so that they could move around much more freely.

She took a sip out of her water bottle and looked at him, "Okay, so now for the legendary pie?"

"It's strawberry, in a couple of weeks it'll be prime peach season so I'll be making a ton of . . . ."He traveled off blushing as he realized he might have been talking too much. Cassandra, on the other hand, just smiled at him.

"I love strawberries."

He fished the pie out of the cooler, he was used to sharing his pies, so he'd already pre-cut two generous slices and packed them into containers. He handed her one, along with a new plastic fork from the baggie he'd found in the cooler's side pocket. He had this feeling Cassandra was prepared for just about anything.

Cassandra, for her part, was prepared to say nice things about the pie no matter how it tasted. She was skeptical about the legendary pie status, but this man had been surprising her since they met. She still found it hard to reconcile the down- home son of an Oklahoma ranch persona he radiated with the art museum curator she knew him to be. And although she knew he was a genius, you'd not know it from his grammar. She had a feeling his way of speaking was a habit he just couldn't quite break and in the end, she did find it charming despite herself.

She carefully took her fork and broke into the pie. No one in her family baked, but she grew up going to some of the finest bakeries in New York City. So she knew pastry. The crust was that perfect mix of flaky and tender, that tough paradox of pie baking. She bit into it and she made a pleased moan. Unlike most strawberry pies, Jake hadn't used too much sugar to mask the sometimes sourness of the berries, but let their natural flavor shine. She looked up over the pie to find Jacob staring at her, his fork hovering over the pie, his eyes suddenly darker. She realized now the sound she'd made and if she'd had any question about his attraction to her, that was answered now. She smiled at him, a little sheepish and he blinked, the spell momentarily over.

Though his pupils were still a little dilated when he cleared his throat and asked if she liked the pie.

"I do. Wow, you weren't kidding about legendary. This is perfect. I can't wait to try the peach. I know the peaches around here are awesome, I bet your pies are even better."

He puffed up visibly, pleased by her praise. "My mama and grandmama taught me. The girls never were that interested in learnin'. But I love cookin'. It's art and despite my love of it, I was never really good at art other than cookin'. I couldn't paint or draw." He shook his head ruefully. "I love art, think of nothing but it some days and I can't create it myself. Except sometimes with food and even then, I'm feedin' six year olds most days and they just . . . well maybe when they're older they'll appreciate presentation."

Cassandra smiled softly before taking another bite. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you cooked for me sometime. I like to cook myself but it gets boring just cooking for one. I start to get lazy. I was so excited about this picnic."

"I thought that potato salad was homemade. The lemonade too?"

She grinned. "That's my art too. Cooking. I can do, you know, basic stuff, the stuff the kids do in crafts, but most of the time I'm just following someone else's tutorial. I can draw shapes and finger paint, but beyond that." She shrugged. "You said your wife was an artist?"

He nodded looking down at the blanket and Cassandra thought maybe she'd said something wrong. "She could paint and draw, it wasn't her first love, she had this talent but what she loved was books. "

Cassandra nodded, "Eve said she worked with Flynn, so she was a reference librarian?"

"Yeah. She loved that so much. But her hobby was art. She minored in it, that's how we met, in art school when I was still telling the boys that art history was a blow off major. She knew better but it wasn't until I got hurt and my football days were over that I really embraced it."

Cassandra was quiet for a long moment. "I think I would have liked your Mabel."

He was quiet for a long time too, playing with a blade of grass near where they sat. "I think she would have liked you too." He bit his lip. "Probably would have approved of you far more than the other two women I dated. I don't close my eyes and picture her staring at me with her hands on her hips right now."

"What is she doing instead?"

His smile was a little dreamy, "she's smilin'. She likes you."

Cassandra blinked away sudden tears, "Oh, Jacob."

"Hey, I didn't, oh God, did I say somethin' wrong?"

"No," she sniffled. "I'm just really touched. " She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I've . . .dated . . .a few people . . .and no one has ever said anything quite that sweet to me."

He set his pie on the blanket next to where she'd put hers and leaned over, wiping the last bit of her tears away with his thumb. He kissed her, soft and sweet, they both tasted like strawberries and a little bit of salt, he couldn't quite deny that one or two had leaked out of his own eyes.

He pulled away from the kiss and kept his right hand on her face, "You are so damn sweet, Cassandra Cillian."

She smiled at him, although her eyes were still a little watery and he leaned back in for one more soft kiss. "Okay, now finish that pie."

A little while later, they were laying side by side on the blanket, not quite touching, staring at the clouds.

"Perhaps I should have made those pieces smaller," Jake muttered. "Too full to move."

"You said you didn't have to go anywhere until dinner time right?" Cassandra giggled.

"Nope, the street set this up a while back, in the summer, we all take turns watching the kids one day a week so that someone can have a free day. Usually it's a tag team thing, like me and Jessica will have a Thursday and we'll each have the kids for a couple of hours, so we're not overwhelmed. Darlene is taking my turn in exchange for pie. So I don't have to worry about them until at least 5."

"I did want to see the natives garden. I don't know why but I love yucca plants. And that agave that looks like a whale's tongue."

"That's what, on the other side of the green? We can probably hobble over there in a bit."

A few moments passed and Cassandra started speaking softly, "my gift is in math and sciences. Up in the clouds I see the most amazing shapes. I bet you see famous works of art."

"I do. Though I have to admit, that cloud over there," he took her hand in his and pointed, "looks exactly like a sheep my uncle used to have."

Cassandra giggled. "It does look like a sheep."

They spent almost a half an hour laying on the blanket, hands entwined, making up the most absurd things they could in the clouds.

"The shade's starting to move and you're so fair. I'm afraid you're gonna get burned, so we probably should get a move on." Jacob sighed finally.

Cassandra nodded and moved to a seated position, or tried too as she gasped as a dizzy spell over came her.

"Cassie? Is it your head?"

"I think this time it's just," she laid down and the spell seemed to go away. "I sat up too fast that time."

She tried again, this time slowly and things were better. "I was laying down too long, that's all. Hey, don't worry okay?"

"I told ya before, Cassandra, you can't tell me not to worry. I will anyway."

"Yeah, I know."

He wouldn't let her move, instead cleaned up the remaining bits of their picnic packing the containers in the cooler and taking the trash to a nearby trash bin. Then he helped her up and folded up the blanket to put in the pocket of the cooler.

"Alright, let's go see those plants you're crazy about," he grinned at her and she gave up being slightly miffed that he wouldn't let her help clean up. She had a feeling that was a fight she was always going to lose and that she should just let him take care of her. But Cassandra had been taking care of herself for years and found it difficult. Even with a man so used to caring for others that it came as second nature.

They strolled down around the native plants and it turned out one of the agaves was blooming, probably for the only time in its life. Cassandra excitedly took photos from all angles. Then she chuckled over the whale's tongue one and proclaimed she'd really like a yucca some day.

"The kids and Eve like the roses and the Crape Myrtle, but my favorite spot is the Fern Dell," Jake said, taking her hand and leading her back around the natives garden and over the bridge. They sat in its shaded stillness, little fine mists of water spraying, suddenly feeling a million miles away from Dallas.

"I've been here before, but I've never just sat here." Cassandra said. "It's like it's another place entirely. So mysterious."

"I always think an alligator or something is gonna come up out of the creek, it's almost prehistoric."

"Some of the plants were around in the time of the dinosaurs," Cassandra said with a little shiver. "So it's not a far stretch. I suppose we should be heading back before the traffic gets too bad."

"Yeah," Jake sighed. Part of him wanted just to sit in this little piece of paradise with Cassandra for longer. But it was time to go. "So, when can I see you again?"

"You're gonna spoil me, wanting to see me so much," she chuckled.

"We've only been on two dates."

"Next one would be three," Cassandra raised an eyebrow at him.

He cleared his throat and shifted a bit. "I'd like to take things a bit slower with you, I kinda . . . well I'll tell you sometime about . . .anyway."

"I figured we were taking that slow," Cassandra said gently, "I wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

"So if I remember, you're workin' Saturday but you're free Sunday?"

"I am."

"My mother has been aching to take the kids for an evening, so maybe we could cook dinner together?"

"That sounds fun, are you sure about all of this? I don't want to take you away from your kids. I know you had plans to make this a great summer."

"You're not, so far everything has worked into something I'd already planned for them to do. And I'd like you to spend time with them too . . .I mean if you'd like. I know you like kids so . . . ."

"I do, I like kids. And I like your kids. I just want them to be first in your life. That's how it should be. I'm willing to take what I can get."

He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling with it. "You are so damn sweet." And I could really fall for you.

"You said that before."

"I say what I mean. It'll be okay, Cassandra, really. They do come first, but I don't want you to think of yourself like you're far down the list. I know this is really early, but I will make time for you too. We'll figure it out."

"I know we will." She reached over and kissed his cheek. He smiled and grabbed her hand, he kissed the back of it, before taking her hand in his.

"Time to get goin'."