Page 40 of Worth the Fall

"The face. The one your daughter keeps reporting about."

"Well." I reach out to wipe the cheese from her chin, letting my hand linger. "Maybe she's onto something."

"This is way better than steak," Mia says, licking a bit of cheese off her fork.

"Agreed," I say, watching her with a grin. "Though I think I’d enjoy pretty much anything as long as you’re there."

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the blush creeping up her cheeks. "Cheesy lines to go with cheesy food? Bold move, Ramirez."

"What can I say? I’m a romantic," I tease, leaning closer.

We sit there for a while, talking and laughing as the city comes alive around us. We sit a little longer, enjoying each other’s company before setting out on a walk.

As we wander the city, Mia spots a tiny café with a chalkboard sign boasting The Best Hot Chocolate in Town!

"Want to check it out?" she asks, her eyes sparkling.

"Lead the way," I say, opening the door for her.

The café is warm and cozy, with mismatched furniture and shelves lined with books. We order one hot chocolate to share, topped with whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon.

As we sit by the window, passing the cup back and forth, Mia leans her elbow on the table and studies me.

"What?" I ask, smiling.

"Tell me about Felicity," she says, her voice soft. "What was it like… becoming a father?"

The question catches me off guard, but in a good way. I set the cup down, thinking for a moment. "Terrifying," I admit. "And amazing. I mean, the second I held her, everything changed. She was this tiny, perfect little person, and I just… knew I’d do anything for her."

Mia watches me with an intensity that makes my chest ache. "You’re a good dad, Miguel," she says quietly.

"Thanks," I say, my voice thick. "She makes it easy. Most days, anyway."

We sit there for a while, the world outside fading into the background. It’s not the night I planned—not even close. But as I look at Mia, her hand resting lightly on mine, I realize it’s better.

We walk in comfortable silence, her hand tucked into mine as we meander through the quiet streets.

I glance at her, her hair curling at the edges, her cheeks flushed from the cool air. She looks like something out of a dream, and I feel it again—that pull, that magnetic force that makes everything else fade into the background.

We turn down a narrow side street, quieter than the rest, the buzz of the city muffled. I stop walking, tugging her hand to pull her closer.

"What?" she asks, laughing softly as she turns to face me.

"Nothing," I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I just… needed a moment."

"A moment?" she teases, stepping closer.

"To do this."

I cup her face in my hands and kiss her, slow and deliberate. She melts into me, her arms sliding around my neck as the world narrows to just this—her, me, the warmth of her lips, the press of her body against mine.

Her back hits the wall of the building, and I step closer, my hands sliding to her waist. Her breath hitches, and she pulls me tighter, her fingers threading through my hair. It’s all heat and want and the kind of chemistry that makes you forget your own name.

"Miguel," she murmurs, her voice breathless.

"Hmm?" I press my lips to her neck, tasting the faint salt of rain and skin.

She tilts her head back, but her hands rest on my chest, a gentle barrier. "Come home with me."

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