Page 77 of Somewhere Along The Line
“You did not!”
“You’re right. I thought about a lot of other things that were… significantly less appropriate for a coffee shop first.” It makes me chuckle to recall it, the mental tango I danced that morning between what I was thinking in my head and what I was letting come out of my mouth. I don’t bother hiding it now.
“It was part of the same train of thought, actually,” I say, “you sitting at my table with your hands wrapped around a mug and me behind you with my hands wrapped around your…”
“NOT YET!” Piper says with a devilish smile. I pull my hand from her leg and cross my arms, miffed at how easily she throws my words back at me.
“Alright then, your turn. What was going throughyourhead in that café?” I ask.
“Well, first, I was thinking how random it was that you did a gap year in Italy. Renaissance art and a daily afternoon nap didn’t square with my impression of you.”
“To be honest, it didn’t square with me either. Though I did have the time of my life that year—at least, I think I did… a lot of my memories are hazy given the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed.”
Piper tilts her head, a dreamy look warming her brown eyes. “Florence was one of the places I hoped to visit when I worked at Fundament; I had the money to go but not the time.”
“I’ll add it to my list.”
“...What list?”
“The list where I jot down all the things I need to do to convince you to marry me someday. Item one: figure out how to date for real. Item two: book us a flight to Europe. Sounds like an excellent plan to me, Pipes.”
I relish the way Piper looks at me, her pupils expanding with unspoken want as I plan a future with her. For us.
“You know what else I was thinking that day?” She rests her chin on her hand and gazes thoughtfully as she speaks. “That I was grateful for you. That I liked sitting across from you and being a couple, even if it was a ruse. That I didn’t want the morning to end either; I wanted more of it.”
I lean one leg off the stool and straighten to stand, smoothing out my pants before stepping behind her and wrapping my arms across her chest. There’s something about the way she fits here; the way my head can sneak perfectly between her neck and shoulder to whisper in her ear.
It’s my favorite way to hold her.
“You get all of it, P. Every single bit of me. Today and tomorrow, here or in Florence or anywhere else. Heck, even in another train car filled with smoke. I’d be happier there with you than anywhere else without you. I’m all yours.” I nibble gently at her ear, breathing in the scent of her.
She smells like home.
Piper turns her face and plants a kiss in the crook of my arm before laying her head there. It makes the perfect opportunity to drag my lips down the opposite side of her neck.
Pace yourself, Newhouse.
“Is there anything else on the agenda today?” she asks. The words come out sluggish, as though she’s only eager to leave this moment if we’re heading to a bedroom next.
“We’re going to take a walk,” I reply, kicking myself for making so many damn plans.
It’s much colder in the park today than it was in late September, though the sun provides a nice cover of warmth when the wind isn’t blowing. We start at the fountain, and I turn Piper to walk backward, facing me, like she did the night we met here after work.
“Don’t tell me you have Sami waiting for me on the balcony of the bar,” Piper laughs, gesturing to the rooftop across the street.
“I don’t,” I sigh. “Turns out taking the morning off was the maximum commitment she could make. Kyle too.”
“Yeah… about that.” She looks at me from under her lashes, eyebrows raised like she doesn’t trust what I’m about to say. “Did you…set them up?”
“No, I didn’tset them up. I introduced them via text so they could help me pull off the surprise on the train today. Whatever mischief they got up to this morning before you or I arrived is beyond me.” I crack a small grin. “That said, I don’t hate the idea of them together. Sami seems like the kind of woman who could put Kyle in his place. Someone has to.”
“Agreed,” Piper replies, “though it doesn’t sound like they got off to a great start.” She shrugs, unconcerned. “Besides, we should hold off on double-dating until we get used to single-dating. I plan to single-date the hell out of you if you’re up for it.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” I reply.
I need to keep this conversation going if I want to avoid throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to my bed in the next ten minutes.
“Let’s try a first-date question, then. What makes Ms. Piper ‘Pipes’ ‘Sweet P’ Paulson tick?” The question echoes what she asked me the last time we walked in this park.
