He spread the blanket out over the sprawling patch of grass. "You know, if you did have something you needed to do today, you could have told her no. She's not used to hearing it, but I'm fairly certain she would have survived the trauma." His eyes met hers and he breathed a little easier when she flashed him a smile.

"No, it's good." She laughed softly as she settled down beside him. From the slight incline of the hill, they could see Katie and all the other children easily. The sun was bright and the clouds appeared almost perfectly placed as if the sky were a portrait instead of a work of nature. "It's such a beautiful day. It'll do my good to be out here getting some fresh air especially after last night."

He turned towards her. "What happened last night?" The instant the words left his lips, he realized to what she'd likely been referring. "Oh," he said softly, before she had to answer. "You mean the conversation we …" His eyes closed for a moment. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't …"

"You didn't," she said earnestly. "I just didn't sleep very well or at all if I'm being honest."

"Oh." He hesitated before continuing. "Because of what we talked about, bringing all that up again."

She shook her head. "Not really. It's not like I have to talk about it to think about it." She let her breath escape for a moment. "Just being in a new place with new things and new sounds. It always takes me a little bit of time to acclimate."

"I hope the room wasn't uncomfortable."

"Not at all. In fact that tub of yours is really nice. I had a nice long soak in there. I should have asked for that particular amenity in my suite."

Billy grinned. "Well, you're more than welcome to use it anytime you'd like." He felt his cheeks grow warm at the thought of her slinking beneath the sudsy water. "That is if you've decided to stick around for a while." He waited for a response but heard nothing. A quick glance across the park told him why. Her gaze followed a young woman pushing a stroller as a little boy ran head. The tiny pink bundle was barely visible above the side of the carrier, but the knowledge of her existence was enough – more than enough to remind her that this little girl existed and lived and breathed and hers did not.

"Hey," he whispered. She jumped slightly at his touch.

"Oh, sorry." She swallowed past the lump that so often found its way into her throat and forced herself to look away. "I was just looking at all the people here. Looks like everyone is taking advantage of the nice weather, huh? How is the weather normally this time of year? Is it usually …"

"Kelly." He touched her arm gently to try and stop the hurried words. She didn't need to explain to him. He understood in a way he wished he didn't. "It's okay, you know. I know what you were looking at. It's like that at first and it's not that it ever goes away really, but if you can find some things in your life that make you happy, that can fill some of that void then … I like to think that my being happy is what Delia would have wanted."

"Delia?" Her mind flashed back to the little girl in the picture. She wanted to ask, but couldn't bring herself to do so.

"She was 7 when she died. It was a car accident." Anger churned even now as he uttered the words. There was so much more to the story, so much more he felt compelled to say, but she didn't need to hear that story now. This wasn't about his loss or his issues. This was about a shared experience, about letting her know that she wasn't alone and about hopefully showing her that there would come a point where she might feel some semblance of hope again.

"I'm …" She stopped, realizing for the first time why so many people said the words she loathed. "I'm sorry." She allowed herself to complete the phrase. "And I know that's not what you want to hear because I've heard that so many times that it makes me want to scream, but when you're on the other side, you really don't know what else to say except …" Her face fell a bit as the knowledge washed over here. "I know how it feels," she breathed. "I know how it feels to lose something you loved more than your own life and I wouldn't wish that on anybody."

"Thanks." She smiled as she took bag and cup from his hand.

"The selection isn't too great I'm afraid. We can stop for lunch on the way back and get some real food. I'm afraid lemonade and a soft pretzel is about the best we can hope for at the moment unless you want some corn dog nuggets and apple fries."

"This is perfect." She waited until he'd stretched his legs out and leaned back beside her to speak.

"You know, last night in your room, I saw a picture and I was wondering if it was …"

"Dee Dee," he smiled. "That's what we called her. Her mom, Chloe, she named her. That picture in my room, that's Chloe that's with her."

"Oh." She pinched off a bit of the soft dough and chewed thoughtfully. "So you and Chloe, are the two of you …"

"No." The answer came out more forceful than he intended. "I mean, Chloe and I are good. We're friends, but we were never … We were never going to work as a couple. We both lived Dee Dee. We wanted what was best for her and we tried to give her the best life we could. It just wasn't long enough."

"I'm sure you were a wonderful father." She could see the pain in his eyes when he talked about the daughter he'd lost. "I know you made wonderful memories with her and you have those. You'll never lose those."

"Just wish I had more, you know?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Oh God, I'm sorry … I didn't …"

"Billy, you don't have to do that. This isn't a contest. No one wants to play this game."

"I know that, but you never got to make the memories and you're right, they are what keeps me sane sometimes. I don't know how you …."

She shrugged. "She never had to know how much life can hurt you. She only knew that she was wanted and that she was loved. She never knew pain or fear or betrayal. That's what I try to tell myself." She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and brought her hand up to preemptively wipe them away. "But as you can see, it doesn't away work." She shifted on the blanket, turning away as she tried to wipe the tears that now streamed down her face.

She felt the warmth of his hand on skin as he gently turned her back around to face him. "You don't have to do that," he said quietly. "I know we don't really know each other that well, but I want you to know that you don't need to pretend to be okay for my benefit. My life is about as far from perfect as you can get, so any of your baggage you want to bring, it'll blend right in." His thumb brushed her cheek as he looked into her eyes for a moment.

For reasons she didn't quite understand, she felt her shoulders relax and her lips curved into a small smile. "You should probably be careful what you ask for. You barely know me. You may have gravely underestimated my issues."

"I don't know about that." He let his hand fall to the blanket where his fingertips found hers. She didn't pull away when he gingerly touched her and he took that as a good sign to continue. "I know you've gone though things in your life and you're still standing. That tells me you're strong and you're a fighter. I know that you have a good sense of humor and you're willing to take a risk even if it means climbing on the back of a motorcycle with a stranger."

She grinned. "You didn't look like trouble."

"Looks can be deceiving," he teased. "And my kid likes you and that's important. She can be a tough sell and you passed from the jump."

"Did I? I think the ice cream party might have helped."

"I think it was more than that. She's got good people skills. She knows when a person is a keeper. And then of course there's the fact that you've got a laugh that turns heads and a smile that makes me comes up with all kinds of different ways to see it again."

She felt her cheeks flush and she looked away.

"And you blush when someone tells you something that you should already know. That's pretty cute too."

"You're not so bad yourself," she said with a coy grin. "But trust me, it's not all sunshine and rainbows. I've made plenty of mistakes in my life. It would be great to just pretend that bad thing happen to me all the time, but …"

"You're afraid to be happy, self destructive, suspicious when things seem to be going too well?"

Her eyebrows raised as he said the words.

"Sound familiar?" He reached out and brushed the hair away from her face. "Been there, still there sometimes. Trust me, I'm not looking for perfection."

"What are you looking for?" She felt her breath catch in her throat as she heard the pointed question leave her lips. Her brashness surprised even herself.

"I just want to know you're not going to run." His hand cupped her face gently as he searched her eyes for answers. "I don't care what's happened to you before. I don't care about the issues. The baggage, the ex-es, the stuff, it doesn't matter to me, but you don't get to pack up and run."

"What makes you think I will?"

He moved in closer to her, his body now close enough to her to feel his warmth. "Because I see that look, that look I've seen in the mirror so many times. You're here because you're running from something and this time it was because it was something so painful that you had to get away and I get that, but if you stay … if you're willing to take another chance …"

"Billy," she whispered his name as she felt the wave of emotions threatening to overtake her. It would be so easy to simply melt into his arms, to let his charm take her away from the memories and the moment, to allow herself to fall into this dream and forget everything about why she'd come in the first place. "You don't want to get involved in the dumpster fire that is my life. Trust me. I know you think you understand and I appreciate the gesture, but …"

"How about if you let me decide what I want." She felt his thumb trace the outline of her jaw as he spoke. "And I'm pretty sure I already know." He leaned in and kissed her with a passion she hadn't expected and she found herself leaning in towards him despite her better judgment.

When he finally pulled away, he simply smiled and shifted to let his arm drape around her shoulders as he sat down beside her. She let out a slow deep breath and relaxed into the casual, comfortable embrace. So much for her singular focus.