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“Hey,” she says, holding the door open for me.
“Hey, sorry about that. I fell asleep on the couch.”
“Long day?”
“Excruciating. Tons of calls and we’re still short-staffed. I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”
“We can do this another night if you want.”
“No way,” I say, pulling her into my arms and kissing her lips. “I’ve been dreaming about taking you to dinner all week, and I’m craving Chinese like you wouldn’t believe,” I add with a laugh. She just gives me a funny look that makes me wonder if I have something in my teeth or on my face.
“Ready?” I ask, pulling the door open and waiting for her to exit. God, I love the way her hips sway and the soft material of that dress hugs her ass.
We make our way down the stairs and to my truck, her hand tucked firmly in my own. It’s a short drive to the restaurant, but it doesn’t stop me from touching her like it’s an Olympic event and I’m battling for the gold. She’s my happiness.
“Grandma stopped by this afternoon.”
“Yeah? How are they?”
“Fine. She was just leaving the flower shop and decided to bring me poppies.”
“Poppies?” I ask, glancing at her quickly before pulling into the parking lot for the restaurant.
“You don’t want to know. Grandma insists they look like hairy vaginas but are good luck. So she delivered some to each of us girls apparently.”
“Good luck for what?” I ask, jumping out of my truck and meeting her at the passenger door.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s all BS. She says Grandpa loves poppies. I believe that’s code for something and I’m too terrified to ask more questions for fear I’ll need therapy when we’re done. I just take them and smile.”
Inside, the restaurant is dark and cozy. Even though it’s a Thursday night, there are still several tables full. The hostess leads us to an empty booth, takes our drink order, and returns only moments later with two waters.
“This place always has great service,” she says absently, taking a sip of her water.
Another server returns, this one a young female with short black hair and a wide smile. “Levi! So good to see you again,” she coos.
“Uh, hi.” I rack my brain, trying to figure out how I know her, but come up empty.
“Drinks?” she asks, glancing at Abby, the bright smile still plastered on her face.
“Coke for me,” Abby responds, glancing my way with a curious look.
“Me too. And two orders of teriyaki chicken, an order of fried rice, vegetable lo mein noodles, and crab rangoons.” Looking at Abby, I add, “Anything else?”
“Nope, that sounds good,” she replies sweetly.
We make small talk while we enjoy the soup and the rangoons. She tells me about the new book she’s editing, while I tell her an abbreviated version of some of the calls I’ve been on this week. When our meal is delivered, we dive in like we haven’t seen food in days. I love that Abby’s not afraid to eat real food. She’d take a big ol’ cheeseburger over a healthy salad any day, and that’s perfect for me.
When the plates are cleared, I reach over and take her hand. Her skin is soft and I can’t help but touch it, even if I have to keep it PG in a family-friendly restaurant. “You’re the best part of my day,” I tell her as I kiss the tender skin right below her wrist. She tenses and pulls her hand away.
“What?” I ask, her green eyes searching mine.
She’s silent for several long moments, and I can practically see the wheels in her head turning. “Confession time,” she finally whispers.
“Okay, I confess that you really are the best part of my day. Even when I don’t see you, I carry you here,” I say, tapping my chest over my heart.
Her eyes cloud with tears, but she doesn’t say anything. Not for two very long minutes where she scans my face, reading my thoughts, and seeing straight into my soul. “Are you on the dating site PerfectDate.com?” she finally asks, causing my heart to stop fucking beating in my chest.
“Why would I be on there?” I ask casually, tracing a line in her palm with my finger and diverting my eyes to watch the movement.
