Page 83 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

I laughed. “No, but I like to come here for special occasions.”

“Is this a special occasion?”

“Yes.”

He smiled and took another bite.

33

KANNON

“Merritt, please,” I muttered.

“No. I brought you here. This is on me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not poor.”

“I never said you were.”

“But you don’t think I can pay for our dinner?”

I sighed. This wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go. “It’s not about that, Merritt. It’s just I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Kannon, when was the last time someone did something nice for you without expecting anything in return?”

That question stopped me in my tracks. Honestly, I couldn’t remember. I did a great job keeping everyone at arm’s length. It was safer that way. Easier.

The waiter returned with her card and receipt to sign. We left the restaurant and she drove us back to her apartment, but instead of going up she paused and looked at me with a very familiar expression.

“What?” I asked. “I know that look. You have something up your sleeve.”

She laughed. “Nothing illegal. Would you like to take a walk on the beach? It’s a beautiful night.”

“Of course,” I said. “That sounds like a great plan.”

She led me down a path and there it was. I paused for a moment to take it all in.

The beach stretched out in front of us. The sound of waves gently crashing against the shore was rhythmic, soothing. Sand shifted under my boots as we walked. The cool sea air filled my lungs.

“I love it here,” Merritt said softly, almost as though she was afraid to break the magic of the moment. “It’s always been a place of reflection for me.”

“This all feels very cliche,” I said.

“What?”

“Dinner and then a moonlit walk on the beach.”

“Shut up and enjoy it. Views like this don’t exist back home.”

“True,” I admitted, though I wasn’t looking at the water. My eyes stayed on her. The way her lips curved as she took a deep breath, the way the moonlight bounced off her hair. She was the view.

Up ahead, a family played in the surf—four kids, all under the age of seven by the looks of it. The dad was holding one of the older kids, spinning him in circles while the little boy squealed with delight. He darted toward the water and splashed in, just up to his knees, before racing back up the sand to chase the others. The mom laughed as she scooped up the littlest one, pretending to shield her from her husband’s playful antics. The scene was pure chaos and joy.

“Did you and Leah talk about having kids?” Merritt asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

I blinked, her question catching me completely off guard. “We did.”

“And?”