5. Nolani #4
“I assumed you’d taste mine, announce it superior to whatever you would’ve ordered, then eat half while claiming you were helping.”
“That is an outrageous accusation.”
“Prediction based on observed behavior.”
I picked up my fork. “Now I’m eating more than half out of principle.”
“Projected that too.”
The cheesecake tasted like brown sugar, pecans, and bad decisions.
My eyes closed.
Landon chuckled.
“Don’t.”
“I ain’t said nothing.”
“Your face did.”
“My face pays attention too.”
I slid the plate toward him. “Eat before I forget generosity.”
He took a bite. “Yeah. That’s dangerous.”
“Finally, we agree.”
“We been agreeing all day.”
“About what?”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“That neither one of us been in a hurry for this date to end.”
My fork stilled.
He wasn’t wrong.
Lunch had become walking.
Walking had become a tour.
The tour had become a beach.
The beach had become dinner.
“No,” I admitted. “I guess we haven’t.”
The check arrived soon after.
I reached for my purse.
Landon placed his hand over the folder.
“You invited me to lunch. I can contribute to dinner.”
“You can.”
I waited.
He slid his card inside.
“When?”
“Next time.”
The certainty in those words slipped beneath my defenses before I could decide whether to challenge it.
“You’re assuming there’ll be a next time.”
He looked at me.
“You fed me off your fork and spent all day voluntarily extending this date. I’m working with favorable data.”
I fought a smile.
Lost.
“Pay the bill, Landon.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
By the time we stepped off the yacht, night had claimed Self Springs.
Landon climbed down first and turned with his palm already open.
“Your hand, Hershey.”
This time, I gave it to him without reminding either of us what I could do alone.
His fingers closed around mine.
Once my feet reached the dock, he didn’t let go.
Neither did I.
We walked back toward the SUV holding hands like somewhere between the Gulf and brown sugar cheesecake we’d both stopped pretending this was merely sightseeing.
The drive toward Willow Run began beneath low music and dashboard light.
I sank deeper into the passenger seat, tired in the pleasant way a good day left behind. My phone remained buried inside my purse.
Landon glanced toward me at a red light. “You tired?”
“A little.”
“We did a lot.”
“So did you.”
“Yeah, but I planned to wear you out.”
I turned so fast my seat belt caught. “Excuse me?”
His face stayed completely serious for approximately half a second.
“Walking, Hershey. All that walking today. Whatever else your imagination added is between you and the Lord.”
I laughed. “You knew exactly how that sounded.”
“I possess a respectable command of English. Absolutely knew.”
“You’re terrible.”
“Extensive command, actually. But humility.”
I shook my head.
He looked toward my purse. “You ain’t checked your phone all day.”
My smile eased. “I forgot about it.”
Landon glanced at me.
Then back to the road.
“Good date.”
“That’s your conclusion?”
“Strong supporting evidence.”
I laughed softly. “I was having a good time.”
“I know.”
“There you go.”
“Doing what?”
“Knowing everything.”
“I don’t know everything.” His hand left the wheel and rested on the console between us, palm up. “But you ain’t as hard to read as you think.”
I looked at his hand, then placed mine inside it.
His fingers folded around mine, thumb brushing once across my knuckles before he returned his full attention to driving.
For several miles, music handled the conversation.
Eventually, Landon lifted our joined hands slightly.
“I showed you some of mine today.”
“Your Self Springs.”
“Mhm.”
I already knew what was coming before he asked.
“Next time, I wanna see yours.”
Excitement arrived before caution.
“I want you to see Crème & Chill.”
He looked over.
“All of it?”
“All of it. The murals. Test kitchen. Scoops & Stories. Even the office Nyla claims violates basic principles of organization.”
“Now I definitely need a tour.”
I smiled, then remembered the reality sitting between our cities.
“Self Ridge is an hour and fifteen minutes from Self Springs.”
“That supposed to scare me?”
“No. I’m making sure you understand it isn’t around the corner.”
“Hershey.”
His thumb moved over my knuckles.
“Hour and fifteen ain’t a hardship. That’s a full tank, a good playlist, and enough road to look forward to seeing you at the end of it.”
My heart did something entirely too soft.
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is.” His fingers tightened around mine. “If I wanna see you, I drive.”
That was it.
No speech about miles becoming metaphors for devotion.
Just a man willing to get in his truck.
I smiled toward the windshield.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“Come see my world.”
His grin showed in profile.
“Bet.”
By the time Landon turned onto Nana’s street, I had stopped thinking about how long the ride had been.
The porch light glowed ahead.
So did the headlights reflecting off Nyla’s car behind mine.
I sat upright.
“Why is my sister here?”
Landon slowed. “Maybe she missed you.”
“She saw me yesterday.”
“Separation anxiety serious.”
I laughed. “She probably thinks you kidnapped me.”
“I survived Nana and five aunties. Background check cleared.”
“You underestimate Nyla’s commitment to investigations nobody requested.”
“I respect due process.”
He parked and released my hand long enough to unbuckle.
Before I touched the door handle, he was already outside.
I stopped.
And waited.
The realization made me smile.