Breezy salt air drifts through, rich with the smoky scent of grilled fish. Overhead, seagulls cry, their calls weaving into the low hum of old rock music and the laughter bouncing off occupied tables.
Between us, a sleek tabletop kiosk hums to life, lighting up like it overheard our stomachs growl.
We scroll from opposite ends, calling out mouthwatering contenders like we’re filling bingo cards: seasoned curly fries, coleslaw, iced tea, and of course, those supposedly life-changing lobster rolls.
Knox taps in our order and leans back, gaze playfully warm. “Consider this your official lobster-roll indoctrination.”
“Oh, is that so?” I blink. “And what happens if I fail to be properly indoctrinated?”
He cocks his head, deadpan expression on full display. “Then I’ll report you to the Crystal Cove Cuisine Council. They’ll revoke your beach privileges.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll just embrace Ms. Palmer’s no-sand rule and stay dry.”
He tips his head, his smirk deepening like he already knows the outcome. “Please. You’ll be begging for a second one before we even hit the boardwalk.”
Our server, Sasha, swings by and drops off two tall glasses of iced tea, condensation already beading down the sides. Knox thanks her, then nudges mine closer.
“Alright,” he says, a subtle shift in his gaze, still warm, but seemingly more focused now. “Next important question. I know this wasn’t exactly planned. No candlelit rooftop or gondola ride. But since Dr. Ochoa kind of forced the timing…what would your perfect first date actually look like?”
I lean back in my seat, pretending to think it over even though the answer’s been tucked away for years.
“Well, I haven’t been on a proper first date.”
His brows lift, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I was a total high-school nerd, plus my dad was insanely strict. When I moved to England and became friends with Todd, my ex, we just kind of slid into coupledom. No first date. No inciting moment. Just,poof, we were a thing.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Like we ordered the boyfriend-girlfriend label online and never bothered with a return.”
Knox’s smile is gentle, but something flickers in his eyes, like he’s catching more than just the words.
“So…if I were to plan one?” I shrug. “It wouldn’t be anything fancy. Maybe a walk somewhere pretty. Music in the background. Lots of laughing. Good conversation. And I wouldn’t have to wonder if the guy truly liked me or if I was just…” I pause, the word caught in my throat. “…Convenient.”
“Convenient?” The word curdles on his tongue. “Is that how your ex made you feel? Like being with you was…easy access?”
I nod, the truth settling over me like an old coat I thought I’d outgrown.
“You’re notconvenient, Cami,” he says, gruff and edged with quiet conviction. “You’re beautiful. Thoughtful. Funny. Kind. Hot as hell. And most of all…worth it.”
My heart stumbles, warmth blooming where doubt had long taken up space. An unwelcome guest, gone. It’s not what he said buthowhe said it. Deliberate. Effortless.Protective. As though he sees me in a way I’ve never quite let myself hope someone would.
“Knox, I?—”
Before I can finish, Sasha returns, balancing a tray with two baskets overflowing with lobster rolls and a tangled pile of crisp, seasoned fries.
“Let me know if you two need anything else,” she says with a wink, then disappears.
As if aware that this moment is getting too tender to hold, Knox grabs a fry and points it at me like a gavel, amusement tugging at his mouth. “Time to begin your official lobster-roll indoctrination.”
I smirk. “You take your role with the Crystal Cove Cuisine Council very seriously.”
“As I should.” He pops a fry into his mouth. “Your taste buds are about to be transformed.”
I lift the lobster roll and take a bite, chewing slowly while his gaze holds steady on mine.
“Well?” He leans in slightly, seemingly bracing for a verdict.
I swallow. “It’s buttery. Fresh. A little smug about itself. But, yeah, I totally get the hype.”
“Phew.” He presses a hand to his chest. “Wasn’t sure how I’d recover if you committed lobster blasphemy.”
