I laugh, taking another bite. “You’re lucky this is delicious. Otherwise, I’d be reportingyoufor lobster roll fraud.”
“Nah, I always back my claims with data.” He takes a bite of his lobster roll, chewing with exaggerated satisfaction. “And I’m right at least ninety-eight percent of the time, give or take a humble brag.”
I narrow my eyes playfully. “Ninety-eight percent sounds suspiciously inflated…”
He grins. “Well, I can also back that up with anecdotal data.” The side of his mouth quirks up. “And a charming smile.”
“Oh?” I raise a brow. “Because I happen to hold a PhD in Economics, and your claim fails the logic test, and the confidence interval’s not doing you any favors either.”
Knox squints, feigning betrayal. “So, hitting me with an audit? On our first date?”
“Yep,” I say, licking a bit of lobster from my thumb. “And so far, the margin of error is…generous.”
Knox laughs, then leans forward, elbows on the table. “Alright,DoctorEcon. What’s your final verdict?”
I sip my iced tea, letting the moment stretch before answering. “Food’s a win. You? Trending dangerously likable.”
There’s a flicker of something tender beneath his grin as though my words have caught him off guard, which is maybe what I like most—how we keep surprising each other.
After our meal, we wander onto Crystal Cove Boardwalk, fingers intertwined, tipsy on iced tea, lobster rolls, and the afterglow of banter that leaves your whole body humming.
I feel like the star of some sun-drenched-summer Hallmark movie—air thick with kettle corn, sunscreen, and sea spray as my handsome co-star and I meander past vendors hawking saltwater taffy and tie-dye hoodies.
A golden retriever trots past, stick clenched in its mouth, tugging barefoot twins who are laughing too hard to care, just asWalking on Sunshineblasts from a nearby speaker, a little too loud yet perfectly on-brand.
Up ahead, a toddler clumsily offers her pink cotton candy to a gray-haired man in aWorld’s Best GrandpaT-shirt. A sticky wisp catches the breeze and clings to her sundress, setting off a burst of infectious giggles.
I pause for half a breath, taking it all in: the sunlight, the sugar-sweet air, the sound of distant waves tangled with laughter.Knox holding my hand.Moments you don’t realize you’ve been craving until you’re standing in the middle of it all, wondering how something so simple can feel so rare.
Knox nudges my elbow, a teasing glint back in his eyes. “Ferris wheel?”
Of course I say yes.
We make our way through the crowd, weaving between strollers and spilled popcorn, until the Ferris wheel comes into view, its white spokes spinning slowly against the cloudless sky.
The line isn’t long, but it’s enough for butterflies to start flapping. The Knox-induced kind, not the Ferris-wheel kind.
Knox rests his hand lightly on the small of my back, his touch sending chills up my spine.
“Scared of heights?” he asks, a delicious rumble near my ear.
I tilt my head up, my playful gaze meeting his equally playful one. “Only if I’m up there with someone who talks too much.”
He smirks. “Lucky for you, I’m a great listener.”
The operator—short, round, and sunburned, with wraparound shades and a faded staff tee that readsRide the Magic—waves us forward, unlatching the gate with a clank that echoes louder than expected.
Knox gestures for me to go first, then follows, sliding in beside me on the narrow bench, his thigh brushing mine.
The bar locks with a noticeable click, followed by a gentle jolt as the wheel eases into motion, each creaking rotation lifting us closer to heaven.
As the boardwalk shrinks beneath us, my heart stirs like it knows what’s coming.Another kiss.
Knox’s gaze lingers on the horizon, arm stretched behind me, fingers lazily tracing the curve of my shoulder as I lean in.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He gently squeezes my shoulder. “For…?”
