“I’ve never been, actually. Your guess is as good as mine. But Starla recommended the place, so it can’t be too bad… hopefully.”
My eyes flick to Gabriel’s, and I know he’s thinking about the time I had a meltdown when he tried to take me for a nice meal. The heat of embarrassment pools in my cheeks, and I tip my chin up in defiance.
“Well, if Starla recommended it, then I’m sure it will be delicious. I think I’ll try the lasagna,” I add, glancing back down at my menu. I can have lasagna if I’m pregnant, right? I know some meats are supposed to be off-limits, but I’m pretty sure that’s like deli meat or pepperoni or something.But what do I care?I’m not keeping it anyway.
“So, you girls had a snow day?” Gabriel asks after the server’s taken our order and left a basket of bread and a plate of olive oil with fresh-ground pepper.
“Yeah, it was fun. Those kids are a riot. Stephanie’s going to be a powerhouse.” I chuckle, thinking about how she seemed to direct the other children around, even Starla at some points, as if the snowman would only be able to properly come together if she kept a close eye on quality control.
Gabriel flashes a rare smile. “They seemed perfectly smitten with you when I came into the room,” he observes.
“That’s only because I’d just given them hot cocoa with little marshmallows in it. No kid can resist a cup of warm, sugary goodness.” I tear a small corner off a slice of bread and dip it into the olive oil before popping it into my mouth.
A deep rumble of laughter rolls from Gabe’s chest, and I smile slyly around my bite.
“I never knew you were such a natural Pied Piper,” he admits.
I shrug. “What can I say? I know how to sing all sorts of siren songs.” Twirling a red curl that’s fallen into my face, I bat my eyelashes at him flirtatiously.
He raises an eyebrow, his grin shifting into something more predatory. “Don’t get too carried away, or we won’t make it to dessert.”
Giggling, I clasp my hands together and set them on the edge of the table, tipping my head down in mock obedience. But I can only hold the pose for a moment before I have to go for another bite of bread.
By the time our food arrives, I feel as though my cheeks might cramp from smiling so much. Something about tonight is so fun. Gabriel’s at his best, his humor seeming to have replaced his ever-present intensity as he teases me lightly and laughs more than I think I’ve ever heard him. I wonder what this shift is. If it’s me or him or this new atmosphere. But I like it.
The food itself is delicious, and while Gabriel offers me a bite of his chicken parmesan, I pretend to fend him off with my fork when he tries to take a bite of my lasagna. Dessert is just as incredible, creme brulee that rivals my favorite high-end Italian restaurant in the center of Blackmoor.
Then, after paying the bill and bundling up once more, we head out the door. Gabriel slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as he presses a kiss to the crown of my head. Warmth coils deep inside me, and I lean my head against his shoulder as I step toward the bike. But Gabriel’s arm steers me differently.
“Not the bike?” I ask, turning to look into his eyes.
“Dinner wasn’t the surprise,” he says as a way of explanation.
Guiding me toward the end of the block, past tiny shops and a bowling alley, Gabriel finally turns the corner, and an outdoor ice skating rink opens up before me.
“What do you think?” he asks as a gasp escapes my lips.
“I haven’t skated in years!” I say, a giddiness infiltrating my tone.
“So you’re up for it?” He pauses to look down at me, gauging my expression.
“Definitely.” Leaning up onto my toes, I press a kiss to his warm lips.
It only takes a few minutes to rent the skates and sit down to strap them on. Then we wobble across the rubber matting until we get to the rink’s entrance. It’s already quite busy on the ice with couples skating hand in hand and families taking their children around the edge. Gabriel takes my gloved hand in his and pulls me gently onto the ice, letting me take the rail as he attempts to stay balanced without support.
Giggling like a schoolgirl, I press off from the ice, sliding my first few feet over the slick surface. Gabriel chuckles beside me, his hand gripping mine firmly as we start to find a flow. It’s exhilarating to be out on the ice, and I’m brought back to a much younger age when my mom used to take my brother and me out for adventures like these.
While Gabriel seems to think some boy might have taken me on this kind of date before, I actually only have happy childhood memories of ice skating. Somehow, this incredibly normal American pastime feels all the more special.
Watching him struggle to stay upright, his massive, towering form, for once looking less than stable and not as lithe, warms me too. Seeing him attempt something so out of his element means a lot to me. Not to mention, he’s incredibly cute as he focuses intensely on the ice, his free hand splayed in an attempt to offer him better balance.
It only takes a few laps around the ice before we’re both prepared enough to move away from the railing and venture out more bravely, and as we make our laps, I can’t stop smiling. And then, out of the blue, Gabriel’s skates wipe out from underneath him. He doesn’t have time to let go of my hand before he’s down on the ice, bringing me down with him.
I land heavily on his chest, and he releases a grunt, his face looking baffled. I can’t help myself. I burst out laughing. Gabriel joins in a moment later as he takes in my own expression.
“That was not my intention,” he admits as he chuckles.
“But you gave me such a perfect landing pad. How’s your butt?”