“Yes, I have talked to you from those cushions,” Emma interjects, reading my mind as she steps next to me. “If you look close enough, you can still see the faint indent I left after not moving for six hours at a time, deeply engrossed with the mystery man on the other side of my phone.”

“I’m sure you’ve also wanted to throw your phone at me from those cushions, too.”

“Guilty,” she laughs, fixing the strap of her purse. “Should we get going?”

“Not yet.” I bend down, enjoying our height difference and how she stands on her tiptoes while I duck my neck to meet her halfway. I kiss her deeply, savoring the lingering spearmint from her toothpaste. “Hi.”

“Hey.” She beams, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head against my shirt. “What was that for?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

I offer her my hand and she accepts it, leading us outside and into the cool night. I hold the door to my truck open and she smiles as she hoists her small frame inside.

“You’re staring at something,” she observes from the passenger seat as I pull out of her driveway.

“You,” I say simply, eyes drifting back to the road. Her hand finds its way into mine, weaving our fingers together and resting on the center console. “Assume I’m always staring at you.”

“What about me is so stare-worthy?” she presses, amusement prevalent in her question.

“I’m just appreciating how pretty you are. And how much you make me smile.”

“Did you know you make me smile, too? A lot, actually.”

“We’re two smiling fools, aren’t we?”

“I wouldn’t want to be a fool with anybody else,” she says, squeezing my hand.

“Are you excited for dinner?”

“You know I have a strong affinity for food. Of course I’m excited!”

We make the short drive toward downtown. When I park in front of Mia Italia, the upscale restaurant Emma mentioned wanting to try weeks ago, I peer over to gauge her reaction.

“Wait, what?! Are you serious? I told you I wanted to go here like, the fourth time we spoke.”

“Yup. You did. You then proceeded to tell me you’d break a lot of laws to eat their garlic bread. Tsk tsk, Ms. Attorney.”

“How the heck did you make this happen? It’s impossible to get reservations! Trust me, I’ve looked for the hell of it and they book tables three months out.”

“I know a few people who were happy to accommodate a first timer.”