Page 55 of Sweet Somethings

To My Love, she read aloud. "It would have been nice if she'd used a name."

"Keep reading," he said, sitting back down at the table.

She turned her attention back to the letter.

It's been three magical weeks since we met at the drugstore. You gave me a scare those first few days when you didn't call. I was afraid I'd ruined things by being too friendly. My sister says a man likes to chase, and I should learn to be more elusive. It's just not in my nature to pretend, at least not with you. I feel like you're too important to play games with.

Anyway, I was so happy when you asked me to go to the game with you. I don't even like football, but it didn't matter. Sitting there with you was enough for me.

You're funnier than I imagined. I bet most people don't think you can be funny, but your wit is sharp and quick. I liked talking to you. I wanted to keep talking to you. But then we went back to my house, and I didn't want to talk anymore.

"Now we're getting to the good stuff," Roman interrupted.

She made a face at him. "I don't think it's getting that good that fast."

"Let's find out."

She looked back at the note.

It was the perfect first kiss. I thought it would be awkward, but it wasn't. It felt so right to have your mouth on mine. I wanted it to go on forever. But of course we had to stop. My parents were right inside.

I'm going to miss you so much. I can't wait until we see each other again. I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, but I'm not scared, because you're there to catch me.

See you soon, my love.

Juliette set down the letter and looked at Roman. "Definitely not my mother. This woman was living with her parents when she wrote these letters. And it's like she's writing to him but also to herself. She didn't mail these, did she? Are there any envelopes?"

"I just saw the notes," he said. "But we don't know if she was living here and hiding the notes away like pages in a diary or if she sent the notes to her love and he was the one who lived here and hid the notes in the box. Maybe he didn't want his friends or his father or his brothers to see them."

"That's a good point."

"But if they don't belong to your mom and dad, then we should probably just toss them."

"What? No," she said, annoyed at the suggestion. "We should find out who they belong to, and return them."

"Why would we do that?"

"Because…" The handwriting caught her eye again. "Because they are about love and they feel important."

"They would only be important to the people involved."

"Or their kids. I want to keep reading and find out what happens next."

He gave her a knowing smile. "I'm not surprised—not with your curiosity."

"Can I take them back to my place?"

"I think you should read them here," he said.

"Oh, so you're curious, too."

"I might be a little interested," he admitted. "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

"No, I was working late at the bakery."

"So was I. Why don't I order us a pizza? We can read the letters while we're waiting."

"Okay," she said. "Piazza's has the best pizza in town."

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