“Do you want to stop and get some ice cream?” he asks as we get closer to the ice-cream stand.
A small rectangular building sits in the middle of the parking lot connected to the beach. I’ve tried to say away because my hips don’t need the calories, but they have the best soft serve I’ve ever eaten. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’re putting something else besides milk and sugar in it.
“I think she’s out,” I say, leaning forward to look in the stroller and see a sleeping child. Emma hasn’t made a noise for the last five minutes, which is a dead giveaway that at some point her eyes rolled back and she passed out. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally she falls asleep the same way she wakes up in the morning zero to sixty.
Nate laughs. “It’s for the best. I will have nightmares for months about that diaper you made me change. Who knew that color could come from a baby?”
“I tried to warn you. Chocolate does something to Emma.”
“You know what?” Nate asks, looking off into the distance across the street from where we stand. “You deserve an adult dessert.”
“An adult dessert?”
Nate looks back, his eyes narrowed my direction, and then his lips tip up into a smile. “Not that kind of dessert. Something with cake in it.” He pauses, checking for traffic as we cross the road. “But if you want to get kinky with cake, I’d be up for it.”
“Kinky with cake?” A blush stains my cheeks, thinking about what that could mean. I may never walk into the bakery without getting some kind of bedroom cake image in my head again.
11
Nate walks us right up to the Pelican Bay Bed and Breakfast, using the ramp to get Emma past all the steps. The hostess meets us at the door and he asks to be seated on the patio.
“Wow, I can’t believe they have an opening,” I whisper as the blonde-haired hostess leads us to one of the large open patios facing the water. In the past, I’ve tried to eat here before when my mother was in town, but reservations happen weeks in advance over the summer.
Nate checks his watch. “Not many people coming in for dinner at 9 p.m.”
He has a point.
The waitress steps up to our table as soon as the hostess steps away. A few pieces of hair have slipped from her bun and her eyes are droopy.
“Hi, my name is Sammie and I’ll be your waitress tonight. The kitchen is closing down and shutting off ovens, but we offer cold items from the fridge. Salads and chilled pastas.”
“That’s okay, Sammie. We’re just here for dessert. Can we have those menus?” Nate asks, handing back the dinner menu she passed his way. He readjusts Emma’s stroller between us and covers her with the extra blanket shoved in the side as he smiles down at her sleeping form. Those little gestures show so much.
Sammie sighs with relief. “Of course. I’ll bring out the cart.”
“A cart?” I haven’t eaten at a restaurant with a cart for desserts since I was married.
Nate doesn’t have time to answer before Samantha sweeps back with the cart pushed in front of her. She’s walking ten miles an hour, her legs pumping to quicken her pace. Fake desserts highlight what they offer on the cart for patrons to look at and make a selection.
It takes less than a nano second for me to decide what I want. “Do you have that big chocolate thing in a smaller size?”
Not that I couldn’t eat the entire Molten Lava cake by myself, but I’d rather not when Nate’s around.
He laughs. “Get a full one and I’ll eat half. If you’re okay with that?” he questions, looking up into my eyes. Like I would ever say no.
I nod. I’m okay sharing dessert with Nate forever.
“You’re sure it’s okay?” Nate asks again once the waitress leaves.
I hold back a laugh. “Do I look that hungry? Of course. I couldn’t eat the whole thing myself.” Lies.
“Look at that sunset,” Nate says, turning his chair a bit to get a better view of the ocean from our spot on the patio and completely changing the subject. His hair blows in the breeze coming off the water and his smile glows in the lights from the ocean.
I turn, following his direction, and am taken aback by the pink hues that flood the sky. They turn each cloud into its own painted canvas. Sunsets in Maine don’t happen over the water — the whole East coast thing — but it doesn’t mean you don’t get a gorgeous feel on the opposite side. If you want to see the full beauty, you’ve got to get up in the morning.
“I hope I get to see a million more of these with you, Josie.” Nate glances across the table smiling sweetly.
I look down, not sure to how respond, but take his hand when he reaches for mine. “Me too.” We’re moving so fast, something I never expected to happen, but I’m full of feelings I didn’t believe I’d experience. There’s no way to turn off what I feel or slow down our relationship. I’m no longer driving the bus.
