“Some things never change. Come on. Isn’t it about time for second breakfast?”
“I never liked that place.” She gestured dismissively at the Pualena Cafe.
“It’s under new management. The food is phenomenal, cross my heart.”
Anne opened her mouth and found that she had run out of reasons not to join him. Shewashungry, and there was nothing to rush back to. The kids had stayed up way too late the night before watching old movies with Dawn; they’d probably sleep past ten.
“Fine.”
“You flatterer, you,” Noah said.
A shock of electricity ran up Anne’s arm when he grabbed her hand and pulled her across the street.
He released her once they were across, and it took all of her willpower to stop herself from reaching out and lacing her fingers through his.
Inside, the old cafe was different than she remembered. It was packed, for one thing, despite the early hour. Instead of old grease, the air smelled of fresh pastries and lilikoi juice.
One of the booths cleared, and Noah slid in before it was even clean.
A group of tourists glared at Anne as she slid in across from him.
“You jumped the line,” she said in a stage whisper.
He winked. “I have a standing reservation.”
A busy server cleared the table and cleaned it with a quick swipe of her towel. She dropped a menu in front of Anne and moved on to another table that was waving her down.
“What about you?” Anne asked.
“I’ve got it memorized.”
“Never learned to cook?”
“Not as well as Alfie Nakamura.”
“Little Alfie Nakamura?” She glanced over her shoulder like the scrawny kid she remembered might walk out of the kitchen. “That’s who’s running this place now?”
“Not so little anymore. He bought it from his uncle a few years back.”
“He’s closer to Zoe’s age than ours.”
“Zoe’s not so little either,” he said gently.
“Yes, right, we’re ancient.”
“You don’tlookancient.” Noah’s voice was warm, and Anne’s cheeks heated as she looked down at the menu. It was covered in detailed drawings – hibiscus flowers, tropical fish, papaya trees – and it was a moment before she was able to fix her attention on the food. By the time she decided what to order, the server had brought them two cups of coffee and a huge croissant.
“You’ve gotta try this,” Noah said. He tore the pastry in half, and a white filling oozed out of the center.
“Yuck!”
“What do you mean, yuck?”
“That looks like puss.”
Noah laughed. It was such a big, booming sound that several of the other customers turned to smile at him.
“Your croissant is infected,” she said, doubling down.
