"Emily's right." He leans back. "What made you choose a coffee shop specifically?"
"I love coffee. It’s my favorite drink. I also love the ritual of having it in the morning, most adults like coffee, right? And then, there’s the way people's faces light up when they get their favorite drink and take the first sip, it’s almost like a sigh of relief. They can now take on the day. I like to read and write, and I used to do both at a coffee shop in college. There’s something special about the community that builds around a good local shop. It’s different than the hustle and bustle of the large corporate ones, at least I think so." I take a sip of wine. "Plus, I'm really good at making coffee."
"You are. Best Americano I've ever had."
"You're biased." It’s not like an Americano is hard. A shot of espresso and some filtered hot water. It’s the espresso he likes. The one I hand-picked after sampling literally hundreds of beans.
"Maybe. But I'm also right."
The waiter returns for our order. I get mushroom ravioli. Tyler gets chicken parmesan.
"What about you?" I ask once we're alone again. "Why did you join the military?"
"My dad was Army, his dad was a Marine. I grew up on bases, moving every few years. It was the only life I knew." He pauses. "He passed away in combat when I was fourteen, leaving me an orphan living with my grandfather. After that, I knew I wanted to serve. Honor his legacy."
"That's a lot of pressure for a fourteen-year-old."
"It was. But it gave me purpose. Direction. I needed that after losing him."
"Do you regret it? The military career?"
"Sometimes. The deployments are hard. My ex couldn’t handle the separation. Being away from my kids is brutal. But it's also given me structure, discipline, a sense of belonging. My brothers on my team are closer to me than if we shared DNA." He looks at me. "Though, like I said, lately I've been thinking about what comes next."
"But you love what you do."
"I did. I do. But I'm reevaluating. Thinking about what matters most now. I’ve been fighting it for a while."
Our food arrives, and the conversation flows naturally. He asks about my friends, my hobbies, my dreams.
I tell him about the Naughty Little Girls Book Club, carefully editing out the "naughty" and "little" parts.
"So, you just read romance novels and drink wine?" he asks, amused.
"Mostly. We also support each other. Celebrate wins and vent about frustrations. It's like therapy but with better snacks. We all started out single but several of our members have recently found their d, um, significant others." I start to say Daddies but catch myself just in time.
"That sounds nice. Having that kind of support system."
"It is. I don't know what I'd do without them."
By the time we finish eating, it's almost nine p.m.
Tyler insists on paying, and I don't fight him this time.
On the drive back to my apartment, he says, "Can I see you again? Not just to check on Mochi. Actually, see you."
My heart pounds. "Like a date?"
"Exactly like a date."
"I'd like that."
"Good. How about Tuesday? I'll pick you up at seven."
"Tuesday works."
He walks me to my door, and we stand there in the hallway, neither of us wanting the evening to end.
"Thank you," I say. "For rescuing Mochi and getting her supplies and for dinner.”
