Page 171 of Worth the Trip

Nolani looked at me.

“Couples’ reading night?”

“We’re a couple.”

“You sounded very proud of that.”

“I’m proud thinking it.”

My arm settled around her waist as we headed toward the door. I caught our reflection in the glass. Nolani tucked against my side in my hoodie, both bookstore bags in my free hand and her fingers threaded through mine.

She caught me looking.

“You’re staring again.”

“I’m aware.”

“At yourself?”

“Nah, love.” I looked at our reflection once more. “I like how my future stands beside me.”

For once, Nolani had nothing smart to offer.

She just squeezed my hand and walked outside with me.

The beach had been washed clean by the storm.

Rain still clung to the sea oats, and the damp sand stayed cool beneath our feet as we followed the path toward the water. A couple walked near the pier. Three kids collected shells farther down shore. Everybody else had apparently decided to give us the beach.

I supported that decision.

Nolani slipped off her sandals and curled her toes into the sand, lifting her face toward the breeze.

I had two bookstore bags in one hand, a picnic tote over my shoulder, and no remaining interest in pretending I wasn’t gone behind that woman.

She looked back.

“You’re staring again.”

“Part of my daily routine now.”

“You should find a hobby.”

“I coach, read, mentor young men, maintain meaningful community relationships, and mind my business when appropriate. Staring at my woman is enrichment.”

“That sounds like something you invented to avoid admitting you’re obsessed.”

“Obsessed lacks nuance.”

“What would you call it?”

I took her hand and pulled her closer.

“Focused.”

She laughed. “That’s all?”

“Trying to cut down on excessive vocabulary.”