Page 61 of Accidental Blind Date

I mentally kick myself. Because I do know what she’s talking about, thanks to random conversations I’ve had with Kai. “Your parents. Of course.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s why the store means so much to me. It’s all I have left of them. Kai has never understood it,”

“He only talks about them when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah. We cope differently I suppose.”

Another beat. And then,

“I think you’re doing great, Dax. This side of you is…you’re a great dad. I mean that. They miss her but they’re not missing out on anything.”

And with that, she leans in and kisses me. It’s only a peck and it’s completely unexpected, like a shooting star. There…bright…and gone.

My smile fades and the heat lingers. Our mouths are close enough for another kiss. And I want it. Sitting here, with her, in the fairy lights and the books, her cheeks flushed from wine and her eyes wild and her lips soft and pink and warm…I want it. I want her.

So, I go for it. Slowly, I lean in and her chin tilts upwards. But just before our lips touch, the moment is broken.

“Dad,” Delilah’s voice comes from the small door, and I don’t know how long she’s been standing there.

“Yes?” I ask, pulling back and turning towards my daughter.

After a moment she answers. “Poppy is crying because she can’t find Isaac.”

“Isaac?” Libby asks.

“He’s a giraffe," Delilah says.

“A stuffed giraffe," I explain with a groan as I crawl out of the nook. Libby follows, gathering her things as I help Poppy hunt for Isaac, trying to breathe normally as I replay everything that just happened and some of the things that didn’t.

Fifteen minutes later, the girls are in bed, and I am walking Libby to her car. “So, did you find Isaac?” she asks. Our pace is slow.

“I did. He was in the laundry room because I had to wash him earlier.”

“Ah, that makes sense. So, I take it Isaac goes everywhere?”

“With a capital E,” I say as we stop next to her car.

“And now Isaac is clean and ready for bed. See? You got this. Mac and cheese and book nook and Isaac and all–”

“Hey,” I cut her off and her smile fades.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” she asks.

“Everything. All of it. You’re great with them. Truly. And I just…”

I don’t know what else to add to that. There aren’t words that can possibly say all of the things that are buzzing around in my chest right now. So, I stop talking.

I stop talking and I kiss her.

It’s not a peck. It’s not quick or impulsive or anything else. It’s deep, intentional, slow, long, hot, and perfect.

When we finally pull away it’s only because we both need air. And for a moment, I consider doing it again. But I don’t. I want to leave that kiss right where it is, perfect and incomparable. I open the creaky little door of her Miata and bite back a smile as she gets in. And then I watch as she drives away. Then I breathe in the night air and let it out slow and hard.

She’s the first woman who I’ve let into my home since Tess died.