Page 80 of That Time We Kissed Under the Mistletoe
After a while, she peeks through the archway that leads to kitchen. “And be sure to save room for our pie versus cake competition.”
“I don’t have to save room.” My smile splits wider. “I’ve got a whole second stomach for dessert.”
“Same.” Another soft laugh from her. “And whatever we don’t finish can be leftovers on our last night.”
My smile falters and my gut constricts. Leftovers and going-away pie. Fantastic.
Sara meets my gaze across the table. “I’m just sorry you didn’t get to enjoy your luau.”
I gulp water from a goblet that probably costs more than my coaching stipend. “Last night didn’t turn out all bad though, right?”
“No. Not all bad.” Something flickers behind her eyes, but from my end of the table, I can’t figure out the emotion behind it.
“You’re so far away.”
She dips her chin. “You can move closer. If you want.”
“I do.” As I take my plate and slide onto the seat beside her, a stew of emotions simmers inside me. Sara drops her focus to her plate.
“Thanks again for all you did today,” she says softly. “WithRyan. And the storage room. We’re only getting approved because of you.”
“Happy to help.” This is what I say, but I don’t want to talk about Platinum Stays or their approval. Not when Sara and I are already on borrowed time.
“I’m sure the doctor will clear you tomorrow too,” she adds.
“You’re probably right.” The words come out gruff. “But I want to appreciate this moment first.”
Sara looks over at me, the candlelight spilling across her skin. The sky in the window behind her has darkened to an inky black. She draws in a breath then exhales, studying my face for a long stretch of seconds.
“Uh-oh.” I pull down my brow. “Do I have food in my teeth or something?”
She shakes her head. “No. I was just thinking.”
My insides tighten. Maybe Sara’s finally ready to talk. “About what?”
She glances at the table. “About the fact that I spent four summers in Abieville, and we never shared a meal like this.”
“Ah. That.” I half grunt, half guffaw. “The thing is, I didn’t exactly have any crystal or silver or china to offer you back then. Come to think of it, I still don’t.”
Her gaze falls on me again, eyes softening. “For the record, I loved surviving on hot dogs, ice cream, and paper plates. All that mattered to me was being with you.”
“And I didn’t care what we ate or how it was served as long as we were together.” I reach over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”
“Youdidmake me happy.”
“I wanted to be the one who made you smile.”
“You did that, too.”
We lock eyes. “I wanted to be worthy of you.”
“You were.”
My esophagus goes desert dry. “No. That’s where I failed.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Sara
