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“I’ve never even heard of that combination before,” I said.
“All the chocolate, but not too much chocolate,” he said in an airy way, as if he were quoting someone.
I bit through the crisp shell into the creamy, sweet ice cream. It was so delicious that I sighed. “Alright, you win. What kind of magic is this, anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like you have this supernatural sense of what I’ll like.”
“Like a god?” he asked innocently.
I burst out laughing. A slightly offended look crossed his handsome features, and I found myself laughing harder. “Oh my god, I swear you looked hurt when I laughed at the idea of you being a god!”
He chuckled too.
“I don’t remember when I last laughed so much,” I told him.
“Me too,” he said. “Being with you feels like sunshine and a spring day after a long, long winter.”
We went window-shopping. “Ooh, I love that,” I said, peering into the window at a gorgeous dress.
“It would be beautiful on you.”
“Someday when I’m a millionaire,” I joked.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Come on. Let’s pick out the jewelry you want to wear with it. Tiffany’s is right next door.”
The two of us ambled down the sidewalk to look at the Tiffany’s window. “It’s all so overpriced for what it is,” I said.
“Some people want to spend money on the ones they love,” he noted.
“But you could buy something cheaperandgo on vacation,” I said.
He leaned against the brick wall as he turned to face me. “Is that an invitation, Kennedy?”
“I don’t think we know each other quite well enough yet.”
“We could get to know each other in Paris.”
“I’ve always wanted to go,” I said, giving in to the fantasy. I looped my arm through his again and we started to walk again. “We could eat at that restaurant at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”
“We should order champagne.”
“Definitely. I’m only going to climb all those stairs to the Eiffel Tower once. We have to make it worth it.”
“There’s an elevator.”
“I know, but I’ve always imagined myself taking the stairs. And I’m making you climb the stairs with me.”
“As if you could get rid of me,” he teased. “Then what? Will it be late?”
“Oh, we’re going back to our hotel, of course,” I said. “By the time you take me to Paris, we’ll be…” I couldn’t follow through with the thought, but I smiled.
“That blush is so beautiful,” he murmured, stopping to face me. He touched his fingers to my cheek. It was a slow touch that I could only describe as careful. “You’re so innocent.”
“Not once we get to Paris,” I said back.
“No,” he agreed. “Not once we get to Paris.”
