But then—Hazel reaches out, fingers wrapping around my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
“Gage…”
I twist back around to meet her gaze, heart pounding.
“Thank you. This was…” She holds up the socks as the corner of her mouth lifts, hinting at a smile. “This was really sweet. My first pair of dog mom socks since I got Blueberry.” She shrugs as her mouth forms a full smile now. “They’re perfect.”
Relief punches through my chest. “Well, I know your first love is wine, but Blueberry is…”
Hazel laughs. “Yeah, he’s definitely up there now.” She sets the socks on the counter and then directs her attention back to me. “Is that the only reason you came in? To give me socks?”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah, I guess. I just feel like things have been weird since our date last week and I wasn’t sure how to…”
“Apologize?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
She drops her eyes to the socks again. “Well, socks are one way to say you’re sorry.”
“Better than flowers, right?”
“I mean, they’re definitely more practical. Perhaps sock companies should adopt that as their new marketing slogan—socks last longer than flowers.” She smiles back up at me and then says something I wasn’t expecting, “I’m sorry too.”
I blink. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
“For unloading on you like that.” She wraps her arms around her body, almost caving in on herself. And shit, I hate that look on her. It’s so different than the confident, sharp-tongued woman I’ve come to know.
I take a step closer to her. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize. In fact, I’m glad you told me. It explains why you hated me so much in the beginning.”
“I didn’t hate you, but…”
I hold up a hand. “Hey, I get it. Let’s just move forward, okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
When I realize how much better I feel, I shift my focus back to her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but it’s kinda cool seeing you in action.” Her smile builds again. “Uh, do you photograph many babies? I imagine that’s hard.” I nod in the direction of the backdrop.
She drops her arms and straightens her spine, her confidence returning like flipping a switch. “I do. It has its challenges, but they’re some of my favorite photos to take.”
“How come?”
She grabs her camera from the table, walking over to where I’m standing and turning it so we can both see the small display screen. “It’s all about the little details.” She flicks through a few pictures of the family together, but then there are some of just the baby. “The wrinkles, the tiny fingers and toes…”
Her smile is electric, and before I realize it, I’m staring at her instead of the pictures—her details, the little things about her that I’m trying like hell not to notice but know I won’t ever forget.The dimple in her right cheek. The tiny mole on her earlobe. The slope of her neck and the pout of her lips.
I clear my throat, snapping myself out of it. “They look like little aliens to me.”
She gapes at me. “Haven’t you ever seen a baby before?”
“I mean, sure. Out in public, but not this close-up.”
She looks back down at her camera. “It’s incredible, huh? How an entire person can be that tiny?”
“It’s a trip, for sure.”
“Do you want kids someday?” she asks, peering at me from the side before looking back at her camera. My chest tightens, the question hitting harder than I expected.
“I used to.” The words slip out before I can think about what they imply.