“A nicer one,” she says with a playful pout. “Pretty please?”
Exaggerating a put-upon sigh, one that makes her giggle, I extend my arm out. “All right. For you.”
She leans into me again, stray locks of her hair fluttering against my shoulder as I prepare to take a selfie. “Wait. Turn on live mode. You look so much better in motion.”
“Gee. Thanks,” I utter in response, my tone dry, and she smothers a laugh while I toggle the feature on. “Ready?”
“For donut holes after this?” She bursts into giggles when I turn my head and bring my face closer to hers. “What are you doing?”
“Making this a really nice picture,” I explain, and I steal the rest of her dorky laugh with a kiss she melts into.
As we headout of the coffee shop, Java Hut, with Cuban espressos, bagels, and a bear claw, Barbie wordlessly arches a brow.
I mirror her expression.
She comes to a stop and narrows her eyes.
I do the same.
She folds her arms across her chest and shifts her weight onto one leg.
I’m holding a small tray with said Cuban espressos, bagels, and a bear claw precariously stacked on top, so I tip my head toward it instead. “Don’t tell me you’re upset we got the last bear claw.”
She spares me another cool look, this time lifting her other eyebrow. I can only raise my left one, so I’m unable to mirror her again.
“Okay, you were right,” I say finally, and the corner of my mouth twitches when she squints at me. “They did not have donut holes. Just delicious coffee and freshly fried bear claws.”
“It’s times like this that I wish I had my phone on me,” she deadpans, “to record this momentous occasion where Ethan—middle name to be announced—Carter finally admits once and for all that I’m right.”
“It’s Tadeo. My middle name’s Tadeo.”
“Tedious?” she gasps. “It is quite a fitting name.”
I ignore her cheeky smile. “And I’ll make it up to you.”
“By…” She peers up at me from underneath her long lashes, feigning innocence. “Letting me have the final say on the cover sheets?”
“Cute, but no,” I reply flatly. “You can have the last bear claw.”
“Cute,” she mimics, “but I already called dibs on it.”
“Cute, but I paid for it.”
“Cute, but we both know you were gonna give it to me, anyway.”
“Cute, but I can always change my mind.”
“Cute,” she drags out the syllable as she brings both hands to her chest, “but you won’t.”
Amusement lights up her eyes as she fights to maintain her composure, managing to go three seconds before she doubles over and cackles unceremoniously into the bend of her arm.
I don’t even fight the grin when her dorky goose honk-snort makes an appearance.
“Ugh, I wish we had another day together,” she says, trekking ahead of me across the park en route to the hotel. “Or a couple of hours to do something else.”
“I mean, our flight’s not until noon.” I fall into step beside her. “We have an hour until we leave for the airport.”
“Two hours,” she says. “Our flight’s not until one.”
