Page 46 of A Match Made In Fall

Her smile widens. “So did I.”

I clear my throat trying to gather what's left of my composure. Isabella smooths a hand over her hair and lightly touches the corner of her mouth to fix her lipstick, although I’m probably wearing most of it now.

“So,” I say brightly. “Dessert?”

She laughs and nods. “Yes. Dessert.”

“I should probably hold your hand, though,” I suggest. “These sidewalks can be dangerous.”

“Good point,” she agrees.

She slides her fingers between mine. We continue toward Marlow’s as if we didn’t just make out in front of the whole town.

When we walk inside the shop, there’s a counter with red stools lining the room, and all the tables look full. There’s also a second floor with tables along the banister. The walls are covered with old photos, signs, and décor. The air smells like cinnamon and ice cream. Fifties music is playing from an old jukebox, transporting this place back in time.

“Table for two?” a girl asks from another table.

“Yes.”

“Grab the one in the corner,” she says. “That’s all I have right now.”

I don’t let go of Isabella’s hand as we weave through the tables and customers. We sit down at the tiny table that’s almost hidden in the corner.

“Okay, I’m obsessed,” Isabella says as soon as we sit down.

“Wow. Thank you,” I tease. “I mean I know I’m kind of a big deal.”

She gives an eyeroll while laughing. “I’m obsessed with this place. It’s definitely worth the drive.”

“But we haven’t ordered yet,” I remind her, picking up two menus and handing her one.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “This shop is perfect. I need to bring my family back here.”

I can’t help but feel proud of myself. It’s been a while since I planned a fun date, so I’m a little rusty.

“I’m glad you like it,” I say. “This was a good choice for this evening. I wouldn’t want to make you feel bad by beating you at mini golf.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Oh, I see we’re feeling extra confident all of a sudden.”

“Hi, welcome to Marlow’s. What can I get you to drink?” A server in a red and white striped dress asks.

“I’ll have a Diet Coke. And what do you recommend?” Isabella asks.

“Everything at Marlow’s is good,” she exclaims, as if we should already know this.

Hmm…okay that’s helpful.

“Water for me,” I say. “And we’ll look through the menu.”

“No problem.”

She walks away, and Isabella and I glance at each other. “So I guess we can’t go wrong with anything on the menu?”

The restaurant is loud and bustling with energy. I see two servers carry out the most massive ice cream sundaes I’ve ever seen.

“Whoa. Look at that,” she says. “Maybe we should share.”

“Let’s both order something different, and then we can share,” I suggest.