“Nope. Sorry, that’s first-date information.” He blinks. And blinks again. He looks so floored by what I’ve just said, I can’t keep myself from smiling. I’m about to turn from him, ready to face the walkway, but his words bring me up short. “What are we calling tonight, then?” Blood rushes in my ears. I expected him to grumble and balk at my teasing, but here he is, arms crossed, stance wide, calling me out. I can hear the threads of hope in his voice, which brings heat to my cheeks. “Oh, tonight? Tonight is just our meet-cute. It’s the night we’ll tell our kids about one day. Remember?”
