Chapter 7 #3
My legs are shaky, my lips tingling, my thoughts barely coherent. "I'll grab my purse."
I duck into my bedroom, catching my reflection as I reach for my bag. Flushed cheeks. Bright eyes. Kiss-swollen lips. I look like a woman who's been kissed within an inch of her life by a man who wants her.
God, I can't wait for more.
I fix my lipstick—just enough to look presentable—and rejoin Adam in the entryway. He's watching me with an expression that makes my stomach flip.
"Ready?" He offers his hand.
I lace my fingers through his. "Ready."
We step outside into the cool evening air, Adam's hand finding the small of my back as we walk to his truck—possessive and warm and exactly right. He opens the passenger door, every bit the gentleman, and helps me in.
As he walks around to the driver's side, I take a deep breath and let myself just feel this. The excitement. The butterflies. The giddy certainty that tonight is going to be special.
Adam slides in beside me and immediately reaches across the console to take my hand, lacing our fingers together like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Where are we going?" I ask as he pulls out onto the street.
"You'll see." Adam's grin is boyish, excited, and it makes my heart do that ridiculous flutter thing again. "I promise you'll love it."
The drive is relaxed, comfortable—easy quiet between us. His thumb traces idle patterns on my hand, and I watch the familiar streets of Willowbridge pass by, transformed by the golden hour light into something almost magical.
We drive past The Sweet Spot, dark now after today's mayhem. Past the block where the party was held just yesterday. Past Harper and Nate's farmhouse, where Emma is probably being spoiled with extra dessert and kept up well past her bedtime.
"Thank you," I say suddenly. "For this morning. For showing up when I needed help."
Adam glances at me, his expression softening. "You don't have to thank me for that, June. That's what—" He pauses, like he's choosing his words carefully. "That's what people do when they care about someone."
Those words hang between us, warm and significant.
"I care about you too," I whisper, and watch his fingers tighten around mine.
The restaurant comes into view—a lovely little Italian place in the next town over I've heard about but never visited. Too expensive for a solo bakery owner treating herself. Too romantic for anything but a real date.
This is a real date.
My stomach flutters as Adam pulls into the parking lot. Fairy lights are strung through the trees surrounding the restaurant, warm light spilling from the windows. It's exactly the kind of place I've imagined for a perfect first date but never actually believed would happen for me.
Adam cuts the engine and turns to face me, his expression soft in the dashboard light. "You look beautiful tonight. Have I mentioned that?"
"Once or twice," I tease, though my voice comes out breathier than I intend.
"Well, it bears repeating." He reaches over, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle and deliberate. "I'm really glad we're doing this, June. I've been wanting to take you on a proper date since—honestly, since you covered me in buttercream."
I laugh, the sound breaking some of the tension coiling in my chest. "That was quite the reintroduction."
"Best reintroduction of my life." He leans in, kissing me softly—just a brush of lips that somehow promises everything. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm and certain. "Come on. I'm starving, and I want to show you off."
He comes around to open my door and helps me out of the truck. His hand finds the small of my back as we walk toward the entrance—warm, possessive, protective.
The hostess greets us with a smile. "Mr. Lane, your table is ready."
She leads us through the candlelit dining room—exposed brick and reclaimed wood, intimate and romantic—to a corner table tucked beside a window overlooking the garden. Private. Perfect.
Adam pulls out my chair. I sit, feeling like I've stepped into someone else's life. Someone who gets romantic dinners and handsome men who look at her like she's the only person in the world. Someone who deserves this.
Adam settles across from me, and when our eyes meet over the flickering candle, the look on his face takes my breath away.
Like I'm precious. Like he's been waiting for this moment as long as I have.
"So," he says, voice warm and teasing as he reaches for my hand across the table. "Tell me everything I don't know about June Callahan."
The nerves melt away. This is Adam. My neighbor. My best friend's brother. The man who showed up at my bakery without being asked. The man who kisses me like I'm flawless and looks at me like I hung the moon.
I smile, threading my fingers through his. "Everything? That could take a while."
His grin is devastating. "I've got all night."
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—I deserve this happiness.
That maybe this is the beginning of something wonderful.