Page 50 of When Love Is Unexpected

"You're a genius," she says, smiling. "So, what did you put on the mugs?"

"I freehanded the letter "P" for Parker, framed it with roses on the top, Emma's favorite flower, and the wedding date on the bottom. Their names are on the inside rim of each cup.

"I can't wait to see them," she says. "I'm excited to meet your family."

"They can't wait to meet you either," I say.

When I look up at her, she's focused on the laptop.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Um, there are at least a dozen emails in here from someone named Tricia Duncan," she says.

She's not making the connection between Patricia and Tricia.

"She's one of the reunion coordinators," I say. "Emma told me she's been trying to reach me for weeks to get my RSVP for the reunion, which is in three weeks."

"Am I your date for that, too?" she asks, smiling. "Because you haven't asked me."

"Laila Marie Linder," I say, "would you like to accompany me to my high school reunion?"

"I would love to," she says.

Once the steaks are ready, we head back inside and start prepping a simple salad of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and croutons.

"Do you want to listen to some music?" Layla asks, walking to the stereo system.

We both start laughing when, as if on cue, the acoustic version of Layla comes on.

"Whenever I hear this song, I think of Eric," she says.

"Why?" I ask, feeling a quick pang of jealousy.

"He always told me he and I were meant to be because his name is Eric, and my name is Laila."

"Well, isn't that special?" I ask, my tone drenched in sarcasm.

"You sound a little jealous," she says.

"Let me give you a different memory to connect to this song."

"Ooh," she says, raising an eyebrow, "that sounds promising.

I offer her my hand.

She smiles and takes it. I give her a quick twirl and pull her in, putting my other hand on the small of her back.

I smile down at her as we start moving together in a slow dance. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I feel her take a deep breath, surrendering herself to my embrace.

"The food is going to get cold," she says but makes no attempt to stop dancing.

When she tilts her head back to look at me, I realize how much I want to kiss her.

"Do it," she says.

"You're a mind reader now?" I ask.

"So, you do want to kiss me!" she says.

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