“Wow. This is amazing,” I said before piling more into my mouth, trying to walk the line between gross-food-shoveling and being the girl who wasn’t afraid to eat on a date. “What else did your mom teach you to make?”

   “If you’d like to know, you’re going to have to go out on six more dates with me, at the very least.”

   “Oh, really? I see how it is,” I said through laughter.

   “My mother didn’t raise a fool.” He smiled right before he wrapped his lips around the tines of his fork and I nearly choked on my shrimp. I’d never considered eating an arousing activity, but I’d be damned if Nate’s lips wrapping around something wasn’t the sexiest thing I’d seen in a while.

   “What did you tell your mom about coming to California? Did she think you were crazy?”

   “No. I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell anyone, actually.”

   “Oh,” I replied. His answer had deflated me a little.

   “I guess I was afraid that if I told my mom about how I was going after a woman, she’d get her hopes up. I didn’t know how you were going to react to me showing up. I didn’t want to have to go home and tell her I’d gotten my very first restraining order.”

   I couldn’t help but laugh and thought he had a point.

   “Nate,” I started, but was stopped when he held up his hand.

   “Whatever you’re going to say, let’s just wait until after dinner. I want to sit here, with you, in that amazing dress, and pretend like this is the dinner date we never got.” The butterflies in my stomach took flight at his words, and the pounding of my pulse thrummed through my veins. I was in full swoon mode. “I promise whatever you want to talk about after dinner is fair game.” It was a statement, but it was pleading. I nodded, then took another bite, conceding. “So,” he said with a sigh, “how was work today.”

   “Great,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I made thirty thousand dollars.” I said the words like they meant nothing, and then took another bite. I was aware he’d stopped moving, his fork stalled halfway to his mouth, eyes wide.

   “I’m sorry,” he said, coughing a little, putting his fork down, and taking a sip of his wine. “Did you just say you made thirty thousand dollars?”

   I nodded quickly, too excited to hide it any longer. “I’m sorry, it’s probably bad form to talk about money on a date, but I really wanted to tell someone.” I took a breath and continued. “I made thirty thousand dollars at my show last night.” I was nearly bouncing up and down in my chair, thankful to have someone to share the news with.

   “Holy shit.” His face was blank and his eyes were like saucers. “Holy shit, Lyn. That’s amazing.”

   “It’s really exciting,” I agreed. “I’m not sure I’ve really grasped it yet, but I know I’m really lucky. A lot of people can’t make it as a professional photographer and, well, I just secured my job for at least another six months. I feel really blessed.”

   “You’re being humble, which is cute, but you’re really talented.” His words were insistent and genuine. I didn’t get the feeling he was trying to be flattering, it felt like he was telling me the truth.

   “Thank you.” I blushed again.

   “Wow, okay, now we’ve really got something to celebrate. I didn’t get any champagne though. I thought we’d maybe gotten enough champagne last night.”

   “I don’t need champagne,” I said a little more dreamily than I had planned. My eyes were glued to his and I was already warm from the wine, and more than a little tipsy from his praise. I didn’t need champagne. I needed exactly what he was giving me.

   “So,” I said, kicking off my heels and folding my feet under me on the couch where I’d just sat down, “let’s talk about you being in California.”

   “Okay,” he agreed. He was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, but it was a small couch, so he was only a few inches from me. The hand closest to me held his wine glass, and his other arm was stretched out along the back of the couch, draping down the arm. I looked at him over the rim of my own wine glass, taking in the way his shirt was stretched over his bicep. I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive his muscles had grown in the two years since I’d seen him.

   I wanted to reach over and undo a few of his buttons, maybe even all of them. He’d been eyeing me all through dinner and I knew he wanted to touch me too, but we were still going to talk. I got the feeling nothing would progress between us until that happened. And, honestly, I was okay with that. Things between us weren’t exactly simple and the way I’d left him hanging, without even a goodbye, deserved an explanation. Especially since he’d come all the way to California to see me.

   “The last time I saw you, before you left, you were in a rough spot emotionally.”

   I nodded, remembering our last encounter vividly. He’d been heartbreakingly sweet and very understanding.

   “That day, it took everything I had in me not to wrap my arms around you and tell you how amazing I thought you were, and how dumb I thought Devon was for playing whatever role he’d played in your unhappiness.”

   I opened my mouth to argue with him, but then closed it because, well, he had a point. Devon had played a role in my unhappiness. I’d long since forgiven him, and myself, for the years of torture we’d put ourselves through. It was over now.

   “It didn’t feel right though.” He brought his free hand up and threaded it through his hair, showing he was frustrated, or frustrated by a memory, perhaps. “I knew if I tried to swoop in and fix you, you wouldn’t ever be mine.” His eyes darted over to me, and I tried to keep my expression even. I didn’t want him to know his words had opened me up. “Not really, anyway,” he continued. “We might have hooked up, and we might have tried to date, but if we got together when you were still healing from something else, we would have been doomed.” He took in a deep breath and then exhaled it out. “So, I did the only thing I thought was right. I gave you time.” He shifted on the couch, turning in to face me a little more. I was glad to have more of his handsome face to look at.

   “You know that saying, if you love something, let it go and then if it comes back to you, you’ll know it belongs to you?”

   I nodded.

   “Well, I was trusting the wisdom of that stupid saying. I was hoping if I gave you space, you’d come back to me.”

   “Nate…”

   “So, I guess what I’m saying is,” he continued, talking over me, “I came to California to find out why you never came back to me.” His eyes came up to meet mine and he looked so gentle and curious, with just the tiniest twinge of hurting there in the brown depths of his eyes. “I thought for a while that it was because you were with Devon. But then I found you on your website, and your name was still the same, and a small part of me held out hope.” He stopped and shook his head. “I sound like a crazy stalker.”

   “No, Nate, it’s fine. I can explain.” I leaned forward and placed my wine glass on the coffee table, then moved so I was facing him fully, sitting with my legs under me. I met his eyes and smiled because I could see he was anxious about what I was about to tell him. The butterflies in my belly thought it was adorable.

   “I never came back to you because of something you said to me that day.”

   His eyes grew wide and then confused. I could tell his brain was sifting through everything he’d said to me so long ago, trying to pinpoint what he’d said to make me run away.

   “You put that alert on my phone and you told me, when it came up, to make a decision. You said you’d be okay with whatever I chose as long as it was my first choice.”

   I reached out and took his hand because I could see him as he took in my words, watching as he realized what they implied.

   “And I wasn’t your first choice.”