The woman sitting across from him was beautiful. He’d immediately felt guilty when Jules told him the person who’d agreed to him sitting at their table would be busy reading a book. He wasn’t a reader per se, but his older sister, Rebecca, was, and Tristan remembered how much she treasured what she called her reading dates when she took herself out for her favorite foods and devoured a novel.

Guilt aside, Tristan knew his disruption was a necessary evil. Perhaps he was still rubbed a little raw, having just returned from dropping Nia back at Lorraine’s after taking her out for ice cream and cookies, knowing the Christmas he’d planned for them both wouldn’t happen the way he envisioned it. Or maybe it was because he understood as a parent how hard it was to disappoint a child looking forward to something. It was plain to see that the little girl had been looking forward to the dinner from the way she bounced in place in her tiny sneakers and kept tugging at her parents as if to ask them when they would finally get their chance to sit and eat. He’d planned to keep his head down, eat his food, and leave as quickly as he could but was immediately drawn to the woman whose table he crashed. And how could he not? Her black hair with its brown highlights fell to her shoulders. The green sweater she was wearing, though thick, didn’t hide her curves. She had the face of an angel, light brown skin, cheeks that formed the cutest apples when she smiled, and honeyed eyes which sparkled as she observed him. Her lips, though? If her face was of the angels, her lips seemed like they would lead angels straight to hell.

He was sure it’d be worth every second.