He unbuckled and stretched across the bucket seats to fish for his phone and glasses and realized something else had been shot forward with that hard stop. He blinked in surprise. It was an older-model iPhone in a purple two-toned case, and Gabe had seen it before. Cradled in a pair of delicate hands that he’d wanted to draw against him and fingers he’d wanted to entwine in his own.

A laugh bubbled up from deep in his gut, and a rush of relief swept over him. Olivia wasn’t returning his call because she’d lost her phone in his truck. It must have fallen underneath the seat. And she’d not even had his number to tell him so.

At least he knew how to get the phone to her.

He snatched his own phone off the floorboard as well and sat straight again. While reaching for the door handle, he did a double take. Maybe too much blood had been draining to his head while he was bent over. The woman who’d almost collided with him was standing beside her car door, her long, fiery hair glowing in the sunlight. She was biting her lip, and an awkward grin was spreading across her face. He gave a light shake of his head as if any second the mirage might vanish. There was no explanation for it, but the very person who’d been occupying his thoughts the last three-and-a-half days no longer seemed so impossibly out of reach.

He practically tumbled out of the truck, fisting her phone in one hand and slipping his into his pocket. He headed over, leaving his keys dangling from the ignition and his truck door open. His pulse was racing a thousand miles a minute. The only thing stopping him from greeting her with a kiss as passionate as the ones they’d exchanged on Saturday was the day-care-class-sized group of preschool kids hopping out of a van directly behind her, all squirmy and wriggling in anticipation of their visit.

“A part of me wants to ask what you’re doing here, but anything that brought you here is good enough for me.”

She still had that irresistibly shy grin on her face. “I just finished writing you a note. And I can’t believe I almost smashed into your truck! I’m so sorry. I was steering clear of the kids and not paying attention to what was behind me.”

“It happens. And trust me, this truck has its share of dings and dents.” He shook his head lightly, still trying to step out of his disbelief. Was it possible that he’d nearly memorized the pattern of faded freckles over the bridge of her nose? He held up her phone. “I’m guessing your note may have been about this?”