“Do you think we're the only ones here?"
"When I called, they told me no one comes up on Mondays. It's just us." His gaze flitted from her mouth, back to her eyes.
Her hands traveled down the front of his shirt. A dare. "So we're all alone?"
Her mouth smelled like apples and cinnamon, and when he kissed her, she tasted like the cider they'd been drinking. He backed her up and against the tree, cradling her head as he continued to press his lips into hers.”