I point to the bread box with my spatula. “We need garlic bread.”
“On it.”
Angie sets her phone on the counter and presses play. Soft, romantic music fills the air as we work together to prepare ourdinner. When the song shifts to a familiar ballad, I drop everything and pull her into my arms. She places her palm over my heart, and I trap it there, keeping my other hand on her lower back.
I sway us back and forth to the music, resting my chin against her temple. When the chorus kicks in, I whisper the lyrics against her skin.
I’ve dreamed of moments like this for as long as I can remember. My parents always made time to dance in the kitchen—still do to this very day. I promised myself if I ever found the one I wanted to marry, I’d show her the same love and devotion that my dad has always shown my mom. We grew up surrounded by love, never wanting for much of anything. That’s all I want for my family.
Angie glances up at me with a soft smile. “Griffin Hayes, I think you might be a romantic.”
She giggles as I spin her away and rapidly pull her back into my arms.
“Only for you,” I say. “Onlyeverfor you.”
The song fades out, and I reluctantly let her go.
When the oven timer goes off, I pull out the fragrant garlic bread and set it on the counter. Angie has two place settings ready to go in our usual spots at the kitchen island. We never use the dining room since it’s just the two of us.
I grab the bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses, setting them beside our plates. “Full disclosure, your dad picked the wine.”
She laughs. “He’s passionate about his wine pairings. Let me guess… pinot grigio?”
“Huh. So that's how you pronounce it.”
I pour two glasses and dish up the carbonara, setting a slice of garlic bread on the edge of the plates.
“Need anything else before I sit?”
“No. This is perfect.” She swirls the glass of wine andbrings it to her lips. “Oh shit. Maybe I shouldn’t drink. What if Jessie needs to eat?”
“We have plenty of milk in the freezer. She’ll be fine with a bottle.”
Her shoulders relax, and she takes a sip. She sighs. “Ok.”
“I didn’t realize there would be so many little things I’d worry about. I thought it would be smooth sailing until we got to the scraped knees and broken hearts.”
“Great. Now I’m gonna be thinking about that.”
“One step at a time,” I say. “The first person to break my daughter’s heart will have to deal with me.”
A laugh bubbles out of her, and she covers her mouth to swallow around a bite. “You’re not as intimidating as you think you are. Like a giant teddy bear.”
I grumble a curse under my breath and turn my attention to my meal. Any minute now, Jessie could wake up from her nap, so I’ve learned to eat quickly.
We finish our meals, and I set the dishes in the dishwasher, making a mental note to run it later. Angie settles on the couch, one leg folded under the other, with her wine glass resting on her knee.
I stand behind her, massaging her shoulders. “I have one last surprise for you.”
She glances over her shoulder. “Griffin. You’ve done enough.”
“Never. I’d give you the whole goddamn world and every cloud in the sky if I could.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head and walk around the couch to sit beside her. I pull open the drawer to the coffee table and hand Angie the sealed envelope I’d left there for safekeeping.
She sets her wine glass on the table, then slips her finger beneath the flap to tear it open. Inside is aset of first-class tickets to Italy, then to Greece, for an all-expenses-paid two-week vacation to Europe this June.
His gaze snaps to mine, those dark chocolate irises glistening with unshed tears. “Why would you do this?”
