His grin returned. That easy rhythm sliding naturally back into place between them.
Blaze leaned slightly closer. “You think protecting yourself means never feeling anything too deeply.”
Her smile faded because his observation hit far too close to the truth. “And you,” she countered carefully, “used to think loving somebody hard enough fixed everything.”
The atmosphere between them shifted. Like an old bruise pressed unexpectedly.
Blaze’s jaw tightened once before relaxing again. “Maybe when we were younger,” he admitted.
Johanna’s chest tightened painfully. The honesty in his voice always undid her.
When they were dating, Blaze had never hidden how deeply he loved her. Losing someone who loved that openly left scars that took a very long time to stop touching.
Their food arrived then, temporarily interrupting the tension.
The scent of garlic butter, herbs, and grilled steak drifted warmly across the table while the waiter refreshed their drinks.
For several minutes they focused on eating. Even that felt strangely intimate.
Blaze still shoveled potatoes into his mouth first before cutting into his steak. He still tapped his thumb lightly against the glass whenever he was thinking too hard. And every time she glanced up, she found him looking at her with unsettling focus.
Johanna finally set down her fork. “You know what’s annoying me?”
Blaze looked up immediately. “What?”
“This feels too familiar.”
Something warm moved visibly across his face. “Good.”
“No,” she corrected quickly. “That’s the problem.”
His mouth curved. “Feels pretty good from where I’m sitting.”
Johanna felt the truth of it settle between them with startling clarity, and before she could stop herself, something inside her softened.
Outside, waves rolled steadily against the shore while candlelight flickered across Blaze’s face. And somewhere between the wine, the ocean, and the familiarity of him… Johanna forgot what it felt like to guard herself completely.
Which was exactly when she should have remembered why she'd built those walls in the first place.
* * *
Dinner stretched longer than either of them expected.
Because neither seemed eager for it to end.
By the time dessert arrived, a slice of chocolate cake Blaze ordered without asking because he remembered everything, the restaurant had thinned into quieter conversations and dimmer lighting.
Johanna stared at the plate. “You’re still making executive decisions for me?”
Blaze picked up his fork. “You’re welcome.”
She should’ve resisted. Instead, she took a bite. And immediately closed her eyes. “Oh my God.”
Blaze looked far too pleased with himself.
“Still dramatic over dessert.”
Johanna pointed her fork at him. “Don’t ruin this experience.”
