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“Okay.” Charli entered the information and secured their reservation before she opened her door and climbed out. They walked into the house, her trailing behind Finn. Butterflies of hope fluttered in her belly. The first flame of joy she’d felt in so long sparked to life. She’d shower and take her time getting ready. Charli would enjoy this peace between them for as long as it lasted. She’d dress up and put her all into this. She’d promised to love him in sickness and health. And if Finn needed her to go slow and give him space and patience, well, she’d do that. She’d do anything to find him again.
* * *
At five thirty, Charli gave herself a spritz of her favorite perfume and spun around in the mirror. Her dark, wavy hair flowed to her waist. She’d added a few curls. Her brown eyes stood out with the black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow she’d applied. Her lips were naked except for the sheen of lip balm. She slipped her hands over the black lace top that cinched under her breasts and flowed out, hiding her baby bump. She was glad she didn’t have to choose between beauty or comfort. These pregnancy jeans were the best invention, and she was probably never going back to regular pants after experiencing the stretchy comfort of her new wardrobe.
She took a deep breath. “You look good. Now go make your husband fall in love with you again.” Charli swallowed the nerves down and straightened her shoulders.
She exited the bathroom and walked to the living room. Finn was sitting on the couch, flipping through a motorcycle magazine. His gaze flicked to her as she descended the stairs and the paper slipped through his hands, fluttering to the ground. Finn stood, slack-jawed, eyes wide and dark. He opened his mouth and closed it, throat bobbing as he swallowed. His heated gaze raked over the black boots laced over her calves—a pair he’d bought for her last fall—trailing her body until he landed on her face. “Wow.”
Heat stirred in her belly. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” He’d gone with a simple pair of jeans and a white-and-grey-striped, long-sleeve Henley that clung to his muscles to perfection.
“We match.” She nodded to his black motorcycle boots.
“Uh-yeah. I guess we do.”
“We should get going if we don’t want to miss our reservation.”
“Right.” He shook his head as if in a stupor.
Charli slipped on her leather jacket and followed him to the car, where he opened the door for her. He drove them to Alfonso’s, following her directions.
“Have I been here before?” Finn asked, opening the front door.
A flutter of hope tipped in her belly. Did he remember?
“Yeah. You took me for my eighteenth birthday. We celebrated our engagement here,” Charli answered, stepping inside and waving to the large dining room. The room hadn’t changed much in the last thirteen years. That was partly why she’d chosen this place. Maybe it would jar his memory. White tablecloths covered each square table with a small vase in the center with a fresh rose and baby’s breath. Giant sepia photos of the Bianchi family who owned the restaurant and their nonna making large batches of sauce or pasta by hand adorned the walls.
“Do you have a reservation?” a young woman asked them.
“Yes, under Reed,” Charli answered her.
“For two?” The girl tapped the tablet in her hand.
“Yes.”
“Right this way.” She grabbed the menus and led them past the tables full of couples and families and out a door in the back.
Crisp sea air whispered around her as she followed the woman to a table overlooking the ocean, right by an outside heater. “This is lovely. I didn’t think we’d get one out here tonight,” Charli said, slipping into the seat.
“Mr. Bianchi has you on his VIP list.” The maître d’ smiled.
“Well, I feel special.” Charli grinned as Finn took a seat across from her.
“Here are your menus. Your server will be along shortly to take your order. Can I get you a drink to start?” She handed them the black parchment; the menu items were printed in silver ink.
“I’ll take a warm apple cider, please,” Charli answered.
“I’ll have a beer. Do you have Sand Dune’s pumpkin ale?”
“Yes, sir, we do.”
“Sounds good.”
“It will be right out,” she promised and disappeared.
Charli turned to look over the water as the waves lapped the rocky shore. The sky was orange and purple as the sun set, casting them in a burnt glow.
“You really look amazing tonight,” Finn said.
