“Once I had my degree, nothing felt right. I wanted to do something that would let me make the difference I wanted to make—connecting with kids and getting them passionate about math or science. And now that I’ve been through the Teach for America program and am certified, it just feels like the right doors open just enough for me to get a good look at what’s inside but not enough for me to really step in.”

“They’ll open all the way; I’m sure of it. From the stories you’ve told, you’re a great teacher, the kind that gets nominated for teacher of the year and all that other stuff.”

Olivia rolled her neck in a slow circle. “Thank you, but what if they don’t?”

“They will. Trust me.” He leaned forward and cupped his hand over hers. “Better yet, trust yourself. From personal experience, I think that’s the biggest step a person can make.”

She pulled in a slow breath and turned her hand over to squeeze his. “Trust myself, huh? I haven’t exactly mastered that, but I’ll give it a whirl.”

Morgan instantly picked up on the hand-holding. Whether it was because he wanted in on their moment of connection or because he’d lost patience with waiting at attention in hope of a bite of food, he stood up and shoved his head underneath Olivia’s arm, giving her mouth a thorough sniff that made her pull away and brought a delighted smile to her face.

“Gabe’s the only one who gets mouth kisses, goober.”

“You got that right.”

Olivia was patting Morgan on the shoulder when, in the space of a mere second, he yanked the trout fillet off her plate and onto the concrete patio floor. Before she could even begin to reprimand him, he gulped it down in two quick bites.

“Oh my God. What do I do?”

Gabe shook his head, laughing. “I think we’re best chalking that one up to experience and ordering you something else.”

Olivia curled forward, overtaken by laughter for the first time all night. “To be honest, the way my stomach feels after all these waves of emotion, that blue cheese burger and some fries seem like they’d go down a whole lot easier than that fish was about to…but only if you eat half.”

Gabe clasped a hand over his stomach. “I could be talked into that.”

Olivia let out a contented nod. “Then we’ll start over tomorrow on the healthy eating.”

Two tables over, Gus, the Boston terrier, had dropped his squeakless toy and pressed to the edge of his leash as Morgan inhaled the trout. He was continuing to let out a series of sharp barks in clear reprimand.

“Yeah, about that, little dog, I don’t think Morgan cares,” Gabe said, chuckling.