This chapter surprised me. I'd planned to only devote a paragraph or two to Nathan and Elizabeth's actual dinner. But the campfire brought on unexpected reflection for Elizabeth in particular, and the whole process of dinner ended up being a time for them both to feel truly seen and loved. Although we all appreciate their playful banter, their deep conversations, and their passionate love, I think they both sit together beautifully in stillness as well, and process differently beside each other than on their own. Still, it wasn't at all a surprise that Nathan and Elizabeth managed to create their own spice with a meal that was only seasoned with salt. So I hope you enjoy what is essentially a bonus chapter that apparently needed to be written!

Chapter 24: The Perfect Fire

Nathan and Elizabeth sat side by side in quiet contemplation, their shared silence a gentle companion as their attention was fully absorbed by the flickering flames. The task at hand required no effort—simply allowing the fire to die down to glowing embers. According to Nathan, that was the ideal moment for cooking, as the heat was both perfectly even and just the right temperature.

After passing some time by indulging in their own heat, they eventually slipped quietly into their individual thoughts, a reflective state that fire so often invites.

Elizabeth stared into the fire, mesmerized by the mirage of yellow, red, orange, and fleeting blue hues. The blue flames, appearing and disappearing with a subtle frequency, drew her in, urging her to watch more closely. Though she wasn't an expert on campfires, she knew in teaching science that blue flames indicated the hottest part of the fire. Naturally, her thoughts drifted to the day she first met Nathan, remembering how she'd been drawn to the warm blue of his eyes.

Though she'd initially hated the idea of a new Mountie, Elizabeth walked into that office, filled with memories, merely to extend an olive branch. She couldn't bear the thought of someone feeling unwelcome as she had, especially in a town that had transformed from Coal Valley to Hope Valley. What had begun as a small act of empathy, offering only a small piece of her heart, had grown into something unimaginably profound. That day, the new constable's kind blue eyes had warmed and lightened her heart, filling her with a sense that Nathan Grant was a man who'd eventually find the home she'd come to know in Hope Valley.

Watching the fire, Elizabeth noticed that the blue flames were steadier at the base, where the heat broke apart the logs, exposing fresh new wood ready to burn. Having recently taught a chemistry lesson on combustion, she recalled how fire, though destructive, also had cleansing and refining properties. It decomposes and transforms, turning hardened materials into something softer and purer, returning nutrients to the soil and supporting new and even stronger growth. Fire was a symbol of change, of old things making way for new—something Elizabeth could relate to more than she'd realized until now.

In the years since meeting Nathan, Elizabeth had experienced a slow-burning transformation. The grief that once paralyzed her softened into an ember of gratitude for what had been, and what continued as a friendship rooted in kindness and trust slowly healed her heart. As they talked about Allie and shared their personal stories, their hardened exteriors began to break down, opening up more surface area to love and be loved. Much like the wood in the fire, their connection had been refining, revealing something stronger and more lasting.

Elizabeth humbly appreciated the process, noticing how the hottest flames eventually faded in frequency, leaving behind a more even and predictable burn. The fire, like their journey, had burned cleaner, purer, and more efficiently, marking the transition from the raw, unrefined struggles to a deeper, more complete understanding of each other. She realized that, just as the fire's combustion had brought the wood to its best form, so too had her relationship with Nathan—slowly, steadily refining her heart.

Although a lover of science himself, Nathan was following an entirely different train of thought, trying to calm his nerves, reminding himself that whether or not they parted ways engaged that night, the evening would still be memorable—and that he would likely propose soon regardless.

So, trying to ground himself, he thought through some highlights of their night already, mostly intimate. Their kisses as the fire smoldered. Elizabeth's gaze as he chopped wood. The way her cool hand felt brushing down his warm skin. How she smiled while buttoning his shirt, and in turn, how she'd gifted him the final four inches of zipping up her dress—by necessity perhaps, but the reasoning didn't matter.

Any one of those tantalizing moments made this a night to remember, and he could've listed more. The low-lying dip. Elizabeth's sleeves slipping from her shoulders. Holding her soft curls in his hand as he fastened his barrette.

Even with all there was ahead of them, the life he trusted they'd build together, Nathan never wanted to take for granted what was right in front of him. So, naturally, his attention turned from thoughts of their future to the reality of Elizabeth's presence beside him. However, it took a few moments for her to realize that he was no longer lost in the fire's glow, but instead was entirely fixated on her.

"Yes?" Elizabeth asked softly, her voice low and drawn out. At Nathan's unresponsive silence, she willingly turned to catch his gaze, meeting once again the most stunning pair of blue eyes she'd ever known. She couldn't help but wonder what thoughts swirled behind Nathan's unblinking stare and his faint smile.

"You caught me," he readily confessed, his lips curving into a guilty grin.

"You were fairly obvious, Constable."

After a tell-tale head tilt, Nathan's smile softened and faded, his voice turning serious, laced with admiration and awe.

"'Lizabeth, I just have to tell you again how beautiful you look."

Elizabeth smiled at his genuine compliment, glancing down at her white dress, adorned with gray lace. "Well, I knew it wasn't the obvious choice for what you described as a day of adventuring," she mused, noting their wooded surroundings. "But, when I was looking through my dresses, trying to figure out which one to bring, this one reminded me of you."

Nathan instantly felt as if she'd buttoned him in a warmed serge, knowing her choice had been as intentional as he'd believed. "You couldn't have worn a more perfect dress for me," he said sincerely, lightly tracing the lacy beadwork above her knee.

"I never got the chance to tell you," Elizabeth began, "with how everything shifted toward the Governor's race, but I felt so inspired and proud of what you said and how you represented Hope Valley."

Nathan shook his head lightly, knowing the credit was all hers. "Well, I appreciate that. I do," he said, acknowledging her praise. "But, you really saved me that night. I only managed to get out what I did because of you, if you recall. I remember you telling me, 'Look for a friendly face. Imagine you're just talking to that person.'"

He smiled at the memory, his heart touched all over again as his gaze fixed on the azure eyes that felt just as warm then as they did today. "And so I did," he answered softly. "My eyes found yours…across a crowded room…just as you've said." He gently fingered the curls he'd gathered into the rhinestone barrette, brushing them softly against his thumb. "Those words were for you, 'Lizabeth."

"Somehow I knew that," she replied, a quiet awe in her voice. "Even once you started to look around, I still felt as if you were speaking only to me. Those words went straight to my heart," she said, unconsciously placing a hand over her chest. After a brief pause, a laugh lost in wonder escaped from her lips.

"Clearly," she added, gesturing to where she sat now, cozied up beside Nathan. Her eyes grew wistful as she reflected on the familiar peace she'd felt settle all throughout her during those few minutes he was up on the stand. "Looking back, it's easy to see how many moments were guiding me back to you." She reached over and gently covered Nathan's hand, resting above her knee, feeling the comforting connection of their touch seeping through her skin.

"Who would've imagined this is where we'd be a year later," Nathan shared humbly, intertwining their fingers, longing for them to be as intimately connected as possible.

"I feel the same," Elizabeth smiled, her gaze drifting into the ocean-blue depths of his eyes, where the flow of his love seemed endless and, yet, somehow ever expanding. "I had a hope for where we might be as I started to listen to my heart more. But, I still never could've imagined this," she added, squeezing her love into his hand.

And there was that word again. This. Their "this." Hard to comprehend. Impossible to express, which was why, "Here we are," always felt so complete, spoken with awe, but all the while humbly knowing that's where they were meant to be all along.

To honor the beauty of the indescribable love that even embraced the air around them, Nathan whispered, "This," brushing his lips against the curls above her ear, pulling her even closer with a protective arm.

Then, leaning into the obvious humor of where they literally sat, he couldn't resist teasing, "Or did you mean this—us sitting here in formal white dinner attire in front of a smoldering fire?"

They both laughed softly, settling into a silence that filled their overflowing hearts and the entire surrounding woodland with reverence.

Nathan and Elizabeth's love knew no limits. Beyond flirty and fun, pensive and passionate, they were also wonderfully comfortable in the quiet. In fact, with such an adventurous day behind them, these two deep thinkers happily waded individually into the memories of the day, each replaying different scenes within their own minds.

But, as Nathan's thoughts soon narrowed in on the time still yet to come, eager for how his plans might play out that evening, he kept a watchful eye on the fire, ready to move their dinner along.

"All right," he eventually announced, his voice abruptly pulling Elizabeth from the memory of watching him closely from below as she belayed him up the rock wall, a view she'd never before had the chance to enjoy.

"This fire is looking perfect," Nathan added, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Elizabeth hid a smile, thinking of how relatable those words were to the spectacular view of her sweetheart she'd just been replaying in her mind.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Nathan squeezed her shoulders gently before beginning to walk away. "I'll go grab the food," he told her.

"I'll come along," Elizabeth volunteered, hungry for his presence.

"I won't say no to that," Nathan chimed in, taking her hand.

Only minutes later, they returned from their trusty steeds, who had gladly borne the weight of several bags each for such an important date. So, Nathan made sure to amply reward them with carrots before finding what the humans needed for dinner. Elizabeth came back carrying two carefully wrapped bundles of aluminum foil, while Nathan transported two interesting wooden pieces she couldn't quite make out.

Once at their log, Nathan swiftly transformed those pieces into a small table he aligned in front of their "seats."

"Well, aren't you Houdini," Elizabeth gushed with stars in her eyes. "I'm not sure I even know what just happened."

Nathan beamed, quite proud of his contraption, in all actuality. Tipping the table forward slightly, he gave her the tour. "Here, I'll show you. It's not too complicated. There are only a few parts to it."

Brushing his hand across the small piece of portable furniture, he outlined the process. "First, I just cut these two pieces of wood—pine, since it's light and durable," he explained, pointing to the individual top pieces. "Then I cut the legs, attached these metal hinges and added a pin here to lock them in place when the table is up. To join the sections, I just rotated these three swiveling connectors underneath, and here we are," he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement, "a table for two."

Lowering the unique creation back into position, he touted its practicality. "And when it's not in use the legs can be down and the two pieces are easy and light to transport."

"Nathan, you never cease to amaze me," Elizabeth said, slipping her hand through the crook of her dashing dinner date's arm. "And until now, I've never viewed a table itself as romantic," she giggled, shaking her head. "But, I'd buy one of these on the spot after seeing that demonstration, Constable."

In response to her praise, Nathan's chest swelled, the warmth in her words settling in him deeper than he expected. Still, a few knowing chuckles escaped. "Well, its origins aren't all that romantic, I'm afraid," he confessed. "To be honest, it came about because Allie and I were tired of trying to find a level spot to filet our fish."

At the thought of such an icky process, Elizabeth couldn't help the pout that pulled at her lips, her nose scrunching up in distaste.

Noticing her expression, the meticulous Mountie glanced around, briefly scanning for the linens he'd set aside earlier.

"I've got just the fix, don't you worry," Nathan assured her, gently releasing her hand from his arm. "So forget what I just said about fish," he grinned.

Reaching for the blue tablecloth, Nathan unfolded the fabric covering carefully, draping it over the table evenly on each side. With deliberate attention, he smoothed the material, adding that final touch to his thoughtful setup.

"This will do, don't you think?" he asked, setting the two placemats side by side on the log.

To Elizabeth, it was a tough call, which was more dreamy—Nathan chopping wood or watching him work his magic in their outdoor dining room. "It will more than 'do,' sweetheart. It's perfect," she said, pressing a kiss of soft appreciation to his warm lips.

"I'm so glad you think so," Nathan replied, leaning in for another brief kiss. After pulling away, his gaze warm with affection, he gestured to her placemat, as if to pull out her chair. "Why don't you sit, and I'll get these dinners started?"

Lifting the two meals from beside her, he explained, "The Mounties are starting to use these for quick overnight trips. The meat stays fresh long enough if it's taken straight from the icebox. Far better than canned soup and hard tack," he added. Now it was Nathan's face that scrunched up in distaste at the thought of his usual fare. "No pot or grate needed, either," he smiled, almost giddy with excitement over this simple meal. "We just place them on the fire, and in about twenty minutes, they'll be done."

"Well, I can't wait to try these 'unforgettable' meals you promised," Elizabeth lovingly responded, her smile reflecting his excitement. "They'll be warm, too," she thought appreciatively, shuddering all of the sudden.

"You must be cold," Nathan noticed, his concern evident. "Here," he said quickly, already moving toward the horses. "Let me grab my peacoat."

As he turned, Elizabeth called out, "No, Nathan. I'm fine." But knowing him all too well, she saw the determination in his eyes. He wasn't about to let it slide, and that was because he knew her as well.

In a matter of seconds, he was back, draping his navy coat around her shoulders.

"Thank you, that's better," she said, a knowing half-smile peeking out beneath her prideful pout.

"Familiar conversation, huh?" Nathan teased, lowering to leave a kiss on her cheek, before settling beside her, wearing an affectionate grin.

Other than Nathan turning the meals halfway through, the next twenty minutes passed quickly, free from interruption, as the two enjoyed their time together as a couple in love. With gentle touches, passionate kisses, and comfortable moments of silence, Nathan and Elizabeth shared a deepening connection in the space between words. They even managed to schedule in some playful teasing, too.

Returning to the fire of perfectly smoldering embers, Nathan lifted each meal between two sticks and transported them carefully to the table.

He slid in beside Elizabeth, settling on his own placemat with a casual grace fitting of a man in a tuxedo. With a quick movement, he grabbed his mess kit from the ground near his feet and pulled out the utensils.

Adopting his stoic Mountie mask, Nathan looked at his dinner date with an almost imperceptible glint in his eyes and asked the ever-important question, "Fork or spoon?" holding up one of each.

"The fork," Elizabeth answered decidedly, though she then hesitated, plenty willing to be accommodating to Nathan's preferences. "Unless you want it, of course."

"Oh, I'd prefer the spoon anyway," he reassured her.

The instant Nathan's words struck the still air, the two diners locked gazes, each raising a questioning eyebrow, curious about what their opposing utensil choices might suggest. Still staring, Nathan added his signature head-tilt in full flirty measure, enjoying how their differences kept things interesting.

Though he wasn't surprised by Elizabeth's choice, he couldn't resist asking. With mock formality, he invited her into his playful conversation. "Please, do tell, Mrs. Thornton, why it is you prefer a fork?"

In a deliberate gesture, Nathan extended her chosen utensil, and with equal intention, she swiftly accepted it.

"I find it to be a precise and predictable utensil," she offered matter-of-factly, her tone carrying the measured elegance of high society Hamilton. "And you, Mr. Grant? Why the spoon?"

Nathan's eyes twinkled as he leaned closer. "It's been my observation, my dear Elizabeth, that a spoon is more efficient, making more time for what matters most."

"And that's dessert, I presume?" she teased.

"Of course," Nathan chuckled, his answer layered both in the food and in the kisses they'd spoken of earlier. "But I'll have you know, dessert I eat with a fork!" He gave her a playful wink, appreciating how their moments together always seemed to carry a certain rhythm between them, one that was as precise and satisfying as their shared choice of dessert utensil.

As Elizabeth shook her head, completely endeared by her boyish man, Nathan smiled and revealed a new detail regarding their evening plans.

"Tonight, though, we won't need utensils for dessert. We're going to use the fire again," he said, motioning toward the glowing embers.

Once their eyes glimpsed the fire, its unified red glow and lasting warmth pulled them in. For a flickering moment, they remembered their earlier thoughts as they'd sat in silence, watching the full-fledged flames—burning red, orange, yellow, and blue. What struck them both now, though, was the realization that each phase of their fire had been beautiful and purposeful in its own way.

While their eyes remained lost in the mesmerizing distraction, their noses were quite busy registering the inviting smell of their meal. So, it wasn't long before Nathan's stomach gave a loud, uninvited rumble, interrupting the contemplative quiet.

"I guess we'd better eat," he said with a sheepish grin.

Nathan touched his fingers lightly to the hot foil. "I double wrapped these, so they wouldn't leak," he explained. "Just be careful as you open them. The steam can be especially…well, steamy," he added with a cocky smile, amused at his own painful pun.

Elizabeth groaned dramatically. "I think Allie would've wanted a heads-up for that one," she teased, though her lips couldn't help but curve into a smile. She felt endlessly grateful to see this lighter, more carefree side of Nathan. Turning to her meal, she mirrored his careful approach, gently pulling at the foil as the steam hissed and escaped.

After the misty heat had dissipated, Elizabeth blinked, a bit surprised to find herself looking down at what was, in fact, a very basic meal—just as Nathan had mentioned. Meat. Carrots. Potatoes. Even still, the juices from the beef had pooled slightly, wrapping around the vegetables, giving the meal a hearty, rustic charm.

While the meal itself was humble, the experience of preparing this dinner had already been anything but ordinary. She'd savored every moment—the unforgettable way Nathan had chopped wood, the quiet reflection shared over the flames, and the way they'd kissed each other breathless while the fire simmered down to glowing embers. No matter how the food tasted, this dinner, and everything surrounding it—including Nathan Grant, himself—had been perfect.

Once they each picked up their preferred utensil, Nathan gently rested his left hand above Elizabeth's knee, a small but deliberate gesture of affection. Though not always one for thoroughly planning, he had put thought into every detail of their dinner, even down to their seating arrangement. By positioning Elizabeth to his left, he'd ensured that he could keep her close, within reach—something he wouldn't have been able to do if she'd been seated to his right. It was just another way he hoped to stay connected to her, even in the simplest of moments.

"Please, go ahead," Nathan offered, suggesting she take the first bite. He watched indulgently, his heart soaring as he noticed her breathe in deeply and sigh slowly, clearly savoring the taste.

"Nathan, this is delicious," Elizabeth murmured, her eyes thanking him before closing softly in satisfaction.

A relieved smile stretched wide across Nathan's handsome face. Just as he was about to respond, her words turned into sweet sounds of contentment, all of which made his head spin. So, instead of starting his own meal, Nathan sat silently, relishing in the variety of faces she made along with her accompanying noises of delight.

And considering their previous conversation, he did better understand her utensil preference now, noticing how she precisely selected one of each item—beef, carrot, and potato—on her fork, ensuring the perfect bite.

Since Nathan in no way wanted to interrupt, it was eventually Elizabeth who spoke next. "You're right, sweetheart! This is so much better than canned food!" she gushed. "Simple, yet unforgettable, just as you told me."

"I'm glad you like it," Nathan said, his smile deepening as he made use of his free arm, gently wrapping it around Elizabeth's side.

To most, Nathan's simple words were nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, his response was a rather common expression. But based on all of his careful planning, and his hushed tone, Elizabeth knew that her seeing this meal as special was important to him. A little "nothing," no doubt. All it took was watching the blue of his eyes fill with love just now to tell her that she'd been right. So Elizabeth smiled humbly, grateful that her intuition was improving as to discovering these smaller moments that mattered to him.

And with how tasty this meal truly was, cooked slowly over the fire, it was no imposition at all for her to convince Nathan all the more by taking several bites in a row, each one a perfect blend of the three ingredients, infused with the rich, natural broth from the meat.

Attentive to only Elizabeth in these first few minutes of their dinner, Nathan soon noticed her glancing around, her gaze shifting from side to side, and even, for a moment, down. It was only then that a twinge of self-doubt crept into him, knowing how out of place the situation must seem—her, dressed in a delicate gown, sitting on a placemat covering scratchy bark, eating what was, despite its deliciousness, a rather plain meal. Apologetically, he gestured to the low-key, fire-cooked fare. "I picked ambiance over glamour," he said quietly, offering her a sheepish smile.

"It's perfect, Nathan. It's absolutely perfect," she assured him, her smile warm and sincere as she pulled her lips inward ever so slightly, still unsure how to address the small issue she was trying to keep in check.

And despite his initial uncertainty, Nathan couldn't help but agree—this dinner, this moment, was perfect, for them.

But Elizabeth's glances continued, now a bit more frantic as she subtly dabbed one side of her lip with the back of her hand.

"'Lizbeth? Everything all right?"

At a loss, she decided to abandon any notion of propriety and asked outright. "Napkins?" she giggled. "This is rather juicy."

Nathan's eyes widened in realization, suddenly aware that he'd forgotten one of the most essential elements of a formal dinner: the napkin. It wasn't just any detail, either—it was a whole process. How it was unfolded, carefully placed on one's lap, positioned a certain way. If you needed to step away, it had to be laid across the seat. And when the meal was over, it should rest neatly beside your plate. How could he have overlooked such a thing?

Although his sharp mind came up with a quick and practical solution, he paused on sharing that since another, more enjoyable option filled his mind.

"I forgot the napkins," Nathan sighed. "But in all fairness, how often do you think Mounties really use those out on missions?"

"I can see your point," Elizabeth laughed, though in doing so, Nathan could see a slight glisten to her lips where some of the juice from her dinner was just beginning to slip beneath her bottom lip. As she lifted the back of her hand, he was quick to intervene.

"I have a fix for that," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Cradling Elizabeth's face in one hand to help with precision, Nathan's lower lip caught the little drop. He couldn't have anything harm that beautiful dress, after all, he reasoned.

Elizabeth sat still for a moment of intoxicating bliss, allowing Nathan's lips to softly explore for any more traces of lingering juice from her first few bites. But her heart was far from motionless. Internally, the quiet embers that had remained in check during dinner now crackled, stoked into rising flames. Once the tip of Nathan's tongue made an appearance, she no longer could hold back, independent of the fact that he had yet to take a bite of dinner and hadn't been facing the same problem himself. His soft, slow, tasting kisses had been her undoing.

Once Nathan felt Elizabeth responding in kind, his dedication to the cause increased, and the napkin issue was more than solved. And for whatever purpose it served for Nathan, who hadn't even started his meal, his own napkin needs had fortunately been preemptively addressed.

As he eventually withdrew from the enticing task at hand, his heart fiercely pounding, Nathan had to admit to himself how exceptional and unique his solution had been. He'd never quite experienced kisses like those, ones meant to deliberately explore and taste Elizabeth's lips. He honestly felt a little shaky now, and saw by the look in Elizabeth's eyes and by her parted lips, frozen in place, that she was feeling much the same.

Once Elizabeth had landed firmly again on earth's surface, she gave Nathan a glowing look of approval. "I can't say I've ever thought of that alternative to a napkin," she giggled, while also pausing intermittently to release a few affected breaths. "It's a good thing we have our own private dining room here, Constable. I'm not sure we'd get away with that in a restaurant." At the very thought, she couldn't help herself and giggled even more.

"We might need to arrange more outdoor eating in the future, then," Nathan suggested, quickly solving yet another problem. His voice dropped low and inviting as he added, "And I'll make sure to forget the napkins."

The look on Nathan's face, raised eyebrow and eager grin, had Elizabeth swooning in place. Although a lover of words, and a published author, she still so often ended up speechless in his presence, completely spellbound by how affected she was by his…well, his everything.

Returning now to the more practical problem Elizabeth had initially presented, Nathan raised a finger as if to make a point. "Now, I'll recommend this for your hands only," he began, his tone Mountie-like and matter-of-fact, "but I don't see anything wrong with using the tablecloth as your napkin." He lifted what was hanging over the edge of his makeshift table to demonstrate. "But, as for your lips," the man beneath the serge said, "I hope you'll let me take care of those."

Elizabeth's heart fluttered at just how romantic this simple dinner could be. She tilted her head back slightly, placing her lips all the closer to Nathan's face. "They're entirely in your care, Constable," she murmured. Then, after leaning in even more, her blue eyes sparkling, she asked with a sultry sass, "Does the favor go both ways?"

As Nathan covered even more distance between them, he tempted her with a quiet, "I sure hope so," his lips nearly brushing hers. But instead of closing the small gap with a kiss, he surprised Elizabeth by suddenly turning away, lifting his spoon to take a bite. Fortunately, the design of Nathan's chosen utensil played to his advantage, with its scooped shape allowing for more juice to accompany each bite, in contrast to the slotted form of a fork, which only permitted a trace amount.

"Guh," Elizabeth smiled in exasperation, watching him chew, as he forced her to wait. The moment Nathan swallowed, though, he returned to his previous position, ready for inspection. And now, it was Elizabeth who lovingly explored Nathan's lips, following the lead he'd so perfectly set—soft, slow, and romantically thorough.

This process became quite encouraging in working their way through their dinner, and especially helped distract Nathan from his question, which grew all the more pressing as the night wore on. By the time Nathan emerged from some of the most sensual kisses he'd ever known, it took a few grounding breaths for even this Mountie to calm his racing heart and control his dizzying thoughts. And the blue flames in Elizabeth's eyes weren't helping.

As incredible as he had imagined this night could be, it had already far surpassed his expectations. And each passing minute just continued to build on that blissful reality through several more cycles of dinner bites and napkin kisses.

With his lips still tingling, a sudden thought struck Nathan, forcing him to hide a knowing smile. Maybe it was the potatoes that lifted this simple dinner to the heavens, he considered. Her heart's desire. Little did Nathan know—though he was starting to realize—that for Elizabeth, it wasn't the potatoes, delightful as they were, nor the cozy fire, or even the tantalizing tuxedo. Elizabeth was hopelessly and forever lost in her love for Nathan Grant, the man, in whatever form he came to her—suspenders, swimsuit, or anything less.

She'd even welcomed his dinner dribbles, Nathan thought, instantly looping in once again to his rather dreamy state. This unique kiss, experienced for the first time tonight, was definitely a kiss to add to his growing list. While Elizabeth had been openly and lovingly cataloguing his various looks, which she'd personally described as distracting, he'd been secretly gathering memories of their kisses.

Beyond their usual heated, heartfelt kisses, he'd added a few more specific kisses to his collection:

"Minty" from their road trip earlier in the fall

"Sweet" from kisses interlaced with sugar

"Emotional," a must-have for those moments when it felt like only one heart was beating for them both

"Steamy" from the heat of the hot springs

"Juicy," a word that perfectly described tonight's kisses, but one already claimed by their apple juice kisses indulged in only behind closed doors

As Nathan considered how to hold onto these kisses from dinner, his tingling lips tucked in, attempting to savor the lingering memory. At the hint of salt, he believed he'd found the right word. Salty…with reference to the small white substance he'd used to season the meat.

Or maybe, he countered within his own mind, the word should tie back to the pressing need that invited his seductive solution in the first place. Napkin. Salty kisses? Napkin kisses?

For now, wanting to give Elizabeth his full attention, Nathan mentally added them to his growing list as:

"Napkin" kisses, salty from his sweetheart during one of the best nights of his life

Nathan continued the thought…And one that may become even more memorable if timing managed to be in his favor for a question that was getting harder and harder not to ask.

The word "question" spun Nathan's normally unflappable Mountie mind back to the homework assignment he'd so carefully outlined in the letter inviting Elizabeth to join him on their date. At the hot springs, their seemingly inconsequential questions had served the purpose he'd intended—distracting them when necessary from what he knew would otherwise be an unrelenting and almost irresistible pull in such a romantic setting. But that coffee question had come with an unexpected heat, one that left him knowing he'd never look at coffee quite the same again.

As for the consequential questions, he'd saved them until last, his methodical planning and purposeful approach guiding him to wait for the right timing, knowing the weight they'd carry. Sensing the night drawing them to move deeper into their plans, Nathan refocused on the here and now, ready to direct them along.

Turning toward Elizabeth, their knees touching, he gently took Elizabeth's hands in his, his thumb lightly brushing across her fourth finger.

"I was thinking we could catch the sunset sometime within the hour," Nathan murmured, his heart already quickening in anticipation.

As the sky was already beginning to soften, turning warm and golden, he gave a subtle nod toward the horizon. "I know you enjoyed the earlier view," he chuckled, recalling Elizabeth's words about his wood chopping, his cheeks flushing in tandem with the blush of the sky. "But the view I meant—it's just over that crest. Though," he added, his smile turning teasing, "I'm sure I'd be in trouble if we didn't finish our homework first."

Trying to steady the rush of excitement building inside him, Nathan forced his voice to sound calm and assured, determined to not let the flurry of nerves churning in his stomach slip through. With his hard-earned Mountie skills, he'd so far managed not to show the storm of expectation brewing beneath the surface, and hoped to keep Elizabeth blissfully unaware of the magnitude of what might come.

"So, how about we take on the consequential questions first, then the sunset, and finish with dessert?" Nathan suggested, his words purposeful as he counted down the moments until he'd hopefully take the leap he'd been planning for weeks.

"Sounds great," Elizabeth quickly agreed, "a night to remember," she sighed, her words further stirring Nathan's tender heart, the man beneath the serge, who wondered if he could truly keep his emotions in check much longer.

Author's Notes:

Some of you who enjoy outdoor adventures of your own may be quite familiar with tin foil dinners. Interestingly, these became popular around the 1920s. Aluminum foil became more readily available in the early 1900s. So, with the outdoor recreation boom of the 1920s and 30s, tin foil dinners became a convenient way to cook food over a campfire, and are still very much a staple of camping today.