Page 154 of Dating Goals
“Themanwho loves you,” he says, pulling me impossibly close. Then, with a rumble in his chest, he adds, “But this man is for your eyes only.”
“I guess your mission is accomplished…as my dating coach,” I tease, tapping my finger against Griffin’s chest. “You taught me how to get a guy.”
Griffin pulls back just enough to look at me, those dimples deepening as he grins. “Oh, I don’t know about that. There might be a few more…advanced lessons we haven’t covered yet.”
I loop my arms around his neck, pressing closer. “Well, I’ve always been an excellent student. Very dedicated to my studies.”
“Is that so?” His eyes darken as his hands slide lower on my waist.
“Absolutely. Top marks in everything I attempt.”
Griffin’s smile turns wolfish. “In that case, Miss Gisler, class is officially in session.”
30
EPILOGUE
Iswear time moves differently around Anika. One minute we're planning our summer escape to Switzerland, and the next I'm watching her twirl in a sunbeam on Queens Quay. My heart does this weird flippy thing it never did before I met her.
The past five months have been the best of my life. Anika has adapted to Toronto living like a native and has already made a lot of friends. Hard to believe we'll be in Switzerland next week, hiking those same trails where we first met. She’s said she would love to stay here full time, but I promised her summers in Switzerland, and I can hardly wait.
We took a break from all the extra errands we must do before we leave and came out to the waterfront. The breeze feels like heaven on this hot, humid day, and nothing but a cold sweet treat could make this sticky afternoon more bearable.
"There it is!" I point down the quay to Scoops & Dreams, my favorite ice cream shop in Toronto. "Home of the best ice cream in Canada."
Anika squints at the colorful storefront, skepticism written all over her face. "You say this about every food place you take me to."
"And have I been wrong yet?"
"Swiss Chalet," she replies without missing a beat.
"Hey, their quarter chicken dinner is a Canadian institution."
"Griffin," Anika says, her accent thickening with indignation. "It is not Swiss! The name is false advertising."
"You mentioned that." I grin, kissing her forehead. " About seventeen times to our server."
"The chicken was good," she concedes graciously. "But why call it Swiss?"
"You ate it, though."
"Out of politeness. And hunger." She bumps her hip against mine. "The things I do for love."
The word 'love' from her lips still sends electric currents straight to my heart. Five months in Toronto, and I catch myself wondering if she'll wake up one morning missing her mountains and regretting following me here.
"What's happening in your head right now?" Anika squeezes my hand. "You went somewhere else."
"Sorry." I kiss her knuckles. “I’m just excited for you to try this place. It'll change your life."
"Like you did?" She stands on tiptoes to peck my cheek.
Inside Scoops & Dreams it smells like fresh waffle cones and sugar, with a hint of caramel wafting from the kitchen. The shop buzzes with summer energy. Kids with sticky faces, teenagers being loud teenagers, parents bribing toddlers with sprinkles. Outside, Toronto bakes under the June sun, making ice cream not a luxury but a necessity. Anika scans the chalkboard menu, biting her lip as she reads the forty-plus flavors.
"Hmm, very impressive variety."
"Better than your Italian gelato?" I ask, knowing full well I'm poking the bear.
She straightens up, eyes narrowing. "Let's not say things we cannot take back."
