Page 32 of Begin Again

“Sure, the code is 1212.”

Chloe chuckled and opened up the app. “Maybe you should think of getting a smarter password,” she teased.

“You’re probably right. But there’s so damn many of them, I want it easy. The one I always replay is at the top—oh, crap, wait! Umm, can I have my phone back really quick?”

“Sure, but it’s right here, under…” She trailed off, staring at the screen. “Songs for Chloe?”

She glanced up. His normally ruddy cheeks were red stained, and pure embarrassment flickered from his pale blue eyes. It took her a few moments for the realization to hit, and then she confirmed by quickly ticking off all the songs listed.

Songs she loved. Songs they’d listened to over and over. Songs they’d fallen in love with together. A playlist for her.

The last song was Etta James, At Last.

He cleared his throat and snatched the phone back. “Umm, yeah. I kind of made up a list of my favorites, and they happen to be yours, too.”

A wave of heat washed over her, having nothing to do with the sun. “Owen, you made me a mix tape.”

He stared at her in a bit of confusion. “I just made a place to go when I missed you.”

Her legs got weak just like the trope, and for one crazy moment, she almost jumped into his arms and kissed him.

“Ready, guys?” Mia asked, turning to see where they were.

Owen shoved the phone in his pocket and fumbled out money for the tickets. Delight and joy unfurled inside her at the evidence. He hadn’t forgotten her, after all. In a way, he’d taken her with him.

Chloe laughed as Ethan wrapped his wife tight and smacked a noisy kiss on her lips. “This was our first date, princess.”

“I remember,” Chloe interrupted. “You dragged me with you to play chaperone, pretending to hate each other, but I knew it was backed-up sexual tension.”

“What do you think, horse man?” Mia teased, tilting her head up toward her husband. “Should we go eat cupcakes?”

“Absolutely. We’ll revisit the first time you fell in love with me years ago.”

Mia sputtered. “Excuse me? If you recall, I thought you were an overbearing jerk when you forced me to accompany you to the festival.”

Ethan puffed up with male pride. “Until I found your perfect cupcake and fed it to you. You were all sweetness and sugar after that. You fell hard. Oww.”

He rubbed his arm where she’d punched him. Chloe let out a laugh and they agreed to meet back in an hour so they could explore. Mia was already darting toward the specialty cupcakes, looking like a kid spotting a new bike on Christmas morning.

“Ready to eat, babe?”

His voice was a low whisper near her ear, the endearment making her tummy dip. She turned slightly and found his pale blue gaze pinned to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lips, and a mischievous grin tugged the edge of his lip. Now she was the one with hot cheeks while shivers bumped down her spine. He was so damn sexy with that goatee and boy next door face, but especially because the world seemed to fall away when they were together. His razor-sharp focus was all for her.

On pure impulse, she raised up on tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his firm, warm lips.

“Let’s do it.”

They held hands and enjoyed the festival. He remembered her love for Cookie Monster and bought her a bright blue cupcake, feeding it to her in tiny bites as they strolled. They sipped local sample of ciders and beer, bought a pot of honey for Ophelia’s kitchen, and snatched up a homemade rum cake for them to eat later in the weekend. Children screamed from the bouncy tent, balloons were held tight, bobbing in the air, and it was as if time had stopped, freezing them in a memory from the past.

But it wasn’t, because they weren’t kids any longer. As she darted in and out of the stalls, and Owen stood on the sideline watching, smiling at her, Chloe realized things weren’t the same. The man beside her still held the childlike wonder she always admired but it was now tempered with a maturity and confidence. He used to chase after her, as if trying to keep up to make her happy, but now it was as if he held his own presence, able to stay silent and watch. He’d grown into himself.

They’d begun to circle back when her gaze caught on a young woman with a boy sitting beside a sign that said Puppies for Sale. There was a crowd of kids leaning over and poking at a box. Owen’s hand tightened on hers as he led her over.

The worn box held a tiny black puppy. Soft whines emitted from its throat, and Chloe watched the furball try to escape the mass of frantic hands trying to grab a touch. She quickly diagnosed a problem with the puppy’s right front leg. It held an awkward gait as the pup tried to run back and forth in the box. “Only fifty bucks for a new puppy!” the young woman announced. “Would make a wonderful new friend.”

Parents called their kids back, leaving Owen and Chloe. “Is something wrong with him?” Chloe asked. “He’s walking funny.”

The woman waved a hand in the air and laughed. “Just hurt his paw a few minutes ago, but he’s fine. No issues. Runt of the litter so you get a discount. I normally charge a hundred.”