Falling for my Fake Husband

Chapter 10: Picnic at Central Park

It was already Thursday, and Florence hadn't texted Scott after their dinner. She knew she promised him she'd think about a good place for them to go on another date, but she was having second thoughts about it now.

After she saw her father injured in the living room that night, she was filled with obsessive thoughts about having to focus on her work and helping at home.

She could still go on dates and meet Scott; one thing had nothing to do with the other. She knew that. But every time she thought about him, she was easily distracted.

During the following days, Florence burned countless dishes while helping her mom with dinner, dropped coffee on a file at the library and had to retype and print everything again, put several books back on the wrong shelves, and tripped twice while climbing the stairs.

She wasn't being herself, and she knew the reason behind it. It wasn't just the debts. It was mostly Scott. She couldn't take him out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried.

And to be honest with herself, she was dying to see him again. She dreamed about him every single night and a lot of those dreams made her blush just by the mere memory of it.

Florence was never the type of woman to have dirty thoughts like that. She wasn't innocent either, but she never really thought about a man the way she was thinking about Scott.

A lot of the times that she daydreamed about him, she wondered what it'd be like to feel his hands roaming over her body, pressing her curves and pulling her against him; what it'd be like to kiss those soft lips, to inebriate herself with his woody scent, to run her fingers through his hair…

“Florence!" Emma's voice came through her ears, taking her off of her reverie for the fourth time that day. “What the hell is wrong with you today? Are you sure you're ok?" Emma asked, concern printed on her face.

“I'm fine. Just tired. Guess I'll call it a day," Florence concluded, grabbing her things and waving Emma goodbye, ignoring her several questions on the way out.

After dinner, Florence grabbed her phone and stared at Scott's name for at least fifteen minutes before taking the courage to text him.

“Is a picnic at Central Park too shabby for a CEO?"

She pressed 'send' and waited anxiously for his reply. Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she wanted to do, and considering that it was a man like Scott who she was talking about, it was even harder to think of a nice place to take him.

“You think too highly of me. Pick you up at 4 p.m. on Saturday?"

Florence felt her lips curling up in a smile while reading his text. Oh, how much she wanted to see his face again. She replied to him saying she'd be ready and went to bed, praying that Saturday came as soon as possible.

The next day, she bought some cheese, wine, bread, and fruits, and prepared a basket with everything she could think of for a nice picnic.

Saturday arrived and before she knew it, Scott was already texting her to say he was waiting in front of her house. Florence spent the entire morning thinking about her outfit and decided to go with a flowery loose dress, sneakers, and braid her long hair, something she'd be comfortable in. Completely different from the tight dress and high heels she wore last time.

Scott was waiting for her outside of the car, leaning against it with his hands inside his jeans pockets. Florence almost forgot how to breathe at the sight of him. She was so used to seeing him in suits that it took her a while to get used to that view.

He was even more handsome than before. His hair was not combed as usual; he wore it loose and the bangs were long enough to cover his eyebrows and part of his eyes.

The white plain t-shirt and sneakers made him look like a young and carefree man, the complete opposite of the CEO's image she knew him for.

The only thing that screamed he was someone with great possessions was the watch on his wrist and the car behind him.

“Hi," she said, clearing her throat after hearing how pathetic she must have sounded. Almost like a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time.

But in her defense, he shouldn't be allowed to be this handsome in a simple outfit like that.

“Hey you," he smiled, opening the door for her. “You look beautiful."

Florence almost scoffed at his remark. If she was beautiful, she didn't have an adjective good enough for him. It was unfair.

“So do you," she said instead. “I wouldn't recognize you if I bumped into you again. You look different."

“Good different or bad different?" he asked with raised brows.

Florence rolled her eyes.

“Good, in a way that it'll make it hard for me to focus on anything you say today," she confessed, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Where did she find the confidence to say that to him?

But Scott didn't seem to care. In fact, if anything, he seemed to like her boldness.

“Hmm, don't worry. I'll make sure to keep you focused," he stated before closing the door and walking around the car to the driver's seat.

They decided to go to the west side of Central Park where Florence knew a good spot to have a picnic. Scott got out of the car and took the basket from her hands before starting to walk by her side.

Florence almost gasped when he put on his sunglasses, which made him look like a celebrity, but she managed to hold it in.

“Won't people recognize you?" she asked, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to them.

“I'm not that much of a celebrity as you make it sound," he explained nonchalantly. “People don't pay that much attention to CEOs, unless they are wearing suits and being followed by an army of bodyguards."

“Still, you're a public figure. Wouldn't people get curious if they saw you here?" Florence continued, really concerned about them being mobbed. “I should have thought about that. I'm sorry. Guess it makes sense that you took me to a nice restaurant that time. You wouldn't be bothered there."

“Hey, it's ok, really. I don't get disturbed while being out like this. As I said, I'm not a celebrity. It'd be different if I were a rockstar or something," he shrugged, making Florence laugh.

“Yeah, it makes sense. Ok, so that means we can enjoy our picnic then. This spot is not normally crowded anyway, so we'll probably have some privacy."

And she was right. They were able to spend the entire afternoon eating some cheese, drinking wine, sharing stories and enjoying the weather without any interruption.

As time passed, Florence wasn't sure if it was the effect of the wine or not, but she couldn't help but be mesmerized by Scott. She was slightly drunk when he finally parked in front of her house and opened the door for her.

He offered her his hand and helped her out of the car, and Florence closed her eyes for a brief second to take in his scent for the last time. She knew she'd miss him the moment he left.

“Thank you so much for today," he whispered, carefully analyzing her features. “You're sure you're ok? You look a bit flushed," he added, concerned.

“That's because you're very close to me and I don't know what to think," she confessed, not being able to hold her tongue.

Scott's brows raised slightly, barely noticeable if she wasn't so close to see him.

“Is that so? Is it a bad thing?" he whispered, moving a bit closer.

Florence was only able to shake her head. Words didn't seem to be forming inside her mind at that moment.

“What if I help you to decide what to think?"

But Florence didn't have time to ask him what he meant, because the next thing she knew, she was feeling those soft and desirable lips touching hers, and the ground seemed to be swept from under her feet.