When they stepped into the café, the aromatic smell of roasted meat tingled Dax’s nose, and made his stomach growl.

“So, do we seat ourselves or wait for a hostess?” Brooklyn asked

At that moment, he figured out a way to lighten the mood. “We wait for the hostess.”

“Um … are you sure? It looks like we seat ourselves.”

“Oh, here she is now,” he said pleasantly.

“There’s no one there, Dax.” There was genuine concern in her voice.

Dax turned and faced the wall, flashing a bright smile as he nodded a greeting. “Hello, we have two please … oh, and the dog.” He patted Tucker’s head. “But he doesn’t eat much.”

Brooklyn grabbed his arm. “Um … that’s the wall you’re talking to,” she whispered.

“Really?” He turned to her, flashing a broad grin. “I figured if you could do it, so could I.”

“What?”

He chuckled. “You said talking to me was like talking to a wall.” He shrugged. “I just thought I’d see what it felt like.” She giggled and he knew he’d won her over.

She linked her arm through his. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“It takes one to know one.”

“Whatever,” she pouted, and he imagined she was rolling her eyes.

The banter restored them to equal footing, making him feel more at ease. He stepped forward. “We order at the counter, then they bring it to our table.”

“Spitz. That’s an unusual name for a restaurant.”

“They serve Mediterranean and German street food.”

“Hmm … smells delicious. I’ll let you do the ordering, since you know what’s good here. And no talking to the wall, wise guy,” she chimed.

Dax chose his favorites, loaded fries with garlic aioli sauce and the Street Cart Döner, a wrap with tender meat, tangy dressing, and veggies. They shared the items because they were so large.

Dax took a bite of the döner and sat back in his seat, relishing it. “What do you think?”

“Outstanding,” Brooklyn said, then gulped a hesitant laugh.

“What?”

“You have something on your face.”

“Oh.” He went to wipe it.

“Allow me,” she said rubbing his face with her napkin.

“Thanks.” He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the intimacy of small gestures. Before the accident, he’d taken so much for granted. He vowed never to make that same mistake again. A smile stole over his lips. “Did you ever have the dream when you were a kid that you showed up naked for school and everyone was staring at you?”

She chuckled dryly. “If I did, I’m certainly not going to admit it to you.”

“Aw come on,” he teased, “you know you wanna divulge your deepest, darkest secrets.”

“Not hardly,” she smirked.

He laughed. “Anyway, that’s one of my greatest fears. That I’ll get out somewhere and realize I have an obnoxious stain on my clothes or shaving cream in my hair.”

“Shaving cream?”

“True story. Before I purchased a hi-mark tactile pen, I put shaving cream in my hair, thinking it was mousse.”

“That’s terrible.”

He could hear the pity in her voice, but for some reason it didn’t bother him like it had earlier. “Yeah, it was terrible. Thankfully, before I went out in public, my mom saw me and saved me the embarrassment.”

“I’ll bet it didn’t look that bad.”

“Well, according to my mom it did. She said it looked like I had a major case of dandruff.”

Brooklyn hiccupped a laugh.

“Now I’m paranoid. You know, always checking to make sure my fly’s zipped up. That sort of thing.”

“What exactly does a tactile pen do?”

“It’s a three-dimensional liquid pen that makes raised dots.”

“Wow, that sounds really helpful.”

“Oh, it is,” he assured her, “especially when I’m cooking.” He grimaced. “One time I was making chicken and rice, and I thought I was adding cream of chicken soup. But as it turned out, it was tomato.”

She giggled. “Oops.”

“Yeah, I learned the hard way that it’s important to taste what’s in the can or at least smell it … before dumping it in and ruining the dish.”

“So, what’s it like. What do you see? Black? It must be rough,” she added quietly.

Dax could tell she was hesitant to ask probing questions. He would’ve reached out and caught her hand to reassure her it was okay, but didn’t want to fumble around to find it. “No, I don’t see black. It varies. Sometimes I see swirls, other times muted circles or prisms of light. As crazy as it sounds, sometimes I miss the darkness.”

“Really? I didn’t realize. I just assumed you’d see the curtain of black like when you close your eyes.”

“I used to think the same thing … before I lost my sight.” He was surprised, and pleased, when Brooklyn placed a hand over his. In a smooth motion, he flipped his hand around and clasped hers, liking how her hand felt small and soft in his.

“When I read about your accident, I wanted to contact you to tell you how sorry I was.”

The comment took him off guard and for a second he was at a loss for words. It was nice to know Brooklyn had thought about him. “Really?”

“Really. But I wasn’t sure how to reach you.” She paused, letting out a half laugh. “I felt a little foolish for even wanting to get in touch with you.”

He cocked his head. “Why?”

The words gushed out like water from a hose suddenly turned on, and he got the feeling she was nervous. “I mean, you were a famous racecar driver. I was sure you had plenty of other people who were concerned about your welfare. People that were much more important than me. And it wasn’t like we’d remained friends after high school.”

“Fame moves in and out of your life faster than a pit crew can change a tire,” he said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. “And I’ve come to learn that importance is a relative term.” He squeezed her hand. “I appreciate you thinking of me.” Then something she said sank in. His brows scrunched together. “I’ve wanted to ask you—exactly why did we drift apart? In high school.” It was a nice way to phrase the question without sounding accusatory. He still couldn’t figure out why Brooklyn had suddenly given him the cold shoulder. It bothered him then, and it still pricked at him a little now, after all this time.

Her phone buzzed. She removed her hand from his, and he could hear shuffling like she was retrieving it from her purse. He expected her to answer it, but she didn’t. The ringing stopped suddenly, and he guessed she’d silenced her phone.

“You can answer it if you need to.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said quickly.

Something about her response caught his attention. Maybe it was the slight catch in her voice, or how rapidly she answered. It was interesting how connected he felt to Brooklyn. Dax wasn’t usually this tuned in to the nuances of other people, but he could almost sense what Brooklyn was feeling. Or perhaps it was just his imagination? Yes, he craved having a relationship, but was Brooklyn the right girl for him? Was there any girl willing or capable of living with his visual impairment?

“What were we talking about?” she asked.

“I was wondering what happened between us when we were in high school.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Oh, yeah.”

Dax didn’t believe for a second she’d forgotten his question. Brooklyn was dancing around the topic. This piqued his interest even more. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this eager to know everything about a woman. As much as he’d loved Cassidy, he’d not been this consumed with her. Maybe it was because Brooklyn reentered his life so suddenly and unexpectedly. And admittedly, it was partially due to his situation, he didn’t have as much to occupy his mind as before. But there was a spark about Brooklyn that had always drawn him in. In high school, they moved in two separate circles, and yet they’d formed a friendship. One of the things he most admired about Brooklyn back then was how she walked to the beat of her own drum, which was refreshing at a time when everyone seemed to jump through hoops to conform to the in-crowd.

Brooklyn’s phone buzzed again.

“You can get that,” he repeated.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll call him back.”

Dax stiffened. Him. It was startling how swiftly that one word rattled him, stripping away his confidence. Just because Brooklyn wasn’t married didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe he should do a little digging before getting his hopes up. A tentative smile slid over his lips. “So, high school?”

She sighed. “Yeah, that was a long time ago. To tell you the truth, I really don’t remember why we drifted apart.”

Disappointment rolled over him. He tried to decide if he should just let it go or press her. Maybe it was better to let it go for now. After all, they’d been kids when they last knew each other. What happened then had no relevance to the present. He leaned back against the seat and absently fingered the napkin beside his plate. “Tell me about yourself. Who is Brooklyn Reese?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What’s your favorite food?”

Her answer was instant. “Spaghetti … and chocolate.”

“Okay, those are good. Just not together.”

She laughed. “I dunno. Spaghetti with chocolate sauce. It could work.”

“No, it can’t,” he said with a shudder. “It reminds me of the movie Elf. Remember how he doused spaghetti noodles with chocolate sauce?”

“Yeah, that was gross. Maybe I won’t try that.”

“Tell me something else. Your favorite color?”

“Yellow and purple.”

He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “A yellow and purple girl, huh? That fits you. Let’s see … what else do I want to know about you. What did you do right out of high school?”

“I went to Utah State, majored in Business.”

“Did you graduate from there?”

“I did.”

“Wow, that’s great.”

“Thank you. How about you? Where did you graduate?”

“I went to Salt Lake Community College for a couple of terms, then went into racing. I haven’t finished my degree. I’ve thought about going back.”

“What would you study?”

“I used to think I wanted to study industrial design because I like architecture. But I don’t know how realistic that would be without my eyesight. At this point, the jury’s still out. My racing team keeps me busy, especially these days.”

“So, you own a racing team?”

“I have a business partner, one of my former sponsors. I like having my hand in racing, even though I can’t drive anymore.”

“It’s good that you can still be involved in it.”

He shrugged. “It’s what I know best.” He turned the conversation back to Brooklyn, craving more details about her. “It seems like your business is going well.”

“It is. This time of year is crazy. I’m grateful that we’re busy, but I have to admit, I’ll be glad when the rush is over.”

He drew in a quick breath, preparing himself to ask the next question. “So, has there been anyone in your life?” He crumpled the napkin, clearing his throat. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of guys—” He stopped. That hadn’t come out right. “I mean, I’m sure there have been plenty of boyfriends over the years.” She remained silent, and he wasn’t sure what that meant, so he plunged ahead. The words caught in his throat, and he had to force them out. “Are you involved with anyone right now?” Geez. That sounded desperate. It was ridiculous how inept he’d become around the opposite sex. Before the accident, talking to a woman was as easy as breathing. He’d kidded Brooklyn about blushing, and now his face was hotter than the Talladega asphalt in July. In that moment, he desperately wished he could see her face, read her expression.

“Ramsey,” Brooklyn said.

Dax jerked, his heart dropping clear to his stomach. She did have a boyfriend.

He heard movement and realized Brooklyn was standing up. “What’re you doing here?”

For a second, Dax was confused. Then a male voice spoke.

“Hey, I was headed back to my office from lunch when I saw you walk into the restaurant. I had a few extra minutes, so I thought I’d pop in and say hello. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

So that’s who’d been calling Brooklyn. Dax noticed that the man’s last phrase held a hint of reproof. The guy had a midrange voice as far as octaves went, and seemed to be around the same age as him and Brooklyn.

“Yeah, sorry,” Brooklyn said, offhandedly, “it’s a little loud in here.”

“Oh, no worries,” Ramsey said.

There was a pause in the conversation, and Dax wondered what body language was being exchanged between Brooklyn and Ramsey. He still didn’t know if Ramsey was Brooklyn’s boyfriend. But contemplating the possibility flared hot jealousy.

Brooklyn made introductions. “Dax this is Ramsey. Ramsey … Dax.”

Dax stood and thrust out his hand. Ramsey clasped it, and Dax couldn’t help but think that it was soft—a white collar guy who’d never done a hard day’s labor in his life. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Ramsey said curtly.

It was obvious that Ramsey viewed him as competition. The notion gave Dax a spark of hope. Maybe he had a chance with Brooklyn.

“Oh, and this is Tucker. The most well-behaved dog I’ve ever seen. He’s been sitting here quietly the whole time, not a peep. Haven’t you, boy?” Brooklyn finished, her voice going cutesy.

Ramsey didn’t respond, as an uncomfortable silence froze over them.

“Would you like to join us?” Brooklyn finally said, her voice cracking.

No, Dax wanted to blurt, but he just stood there, a friendly smile fixed on his face. He figured that Ramsey was looking him up and down, probably wondering why Brooklyn was out with a blind guy.

“I wish I could, but I need to get back to the office,” Ramsey said. “I just wanted to say hello. Did you get my message about going to dinner this weekend?”

Dax fought to keep his expression neutral. So, they were dating. He wondered how serious they were. The conversation between them sounded stilted, forced. But there again, he couldn’t see their expressions, so he wasn’t sure.

Brooklyn let out a nervous laugh. “No, sorry, my phone got ruined when I fell into the lake yesterday. I had to get a new one today and haven’t checked my messages yet.”

“Fell into the lake? Were you hurt?” Ramsey asked, concern filling his voice.

Another hesitant laugh. “I got a little scratched up, but it was mostly my pride.”

“What happened?”

“Feel free to jump in anytime, Dax,” Brooklyn said, touching his arm.

Dax appreciated Brooklyn’s attempt to include him in the conversation. “Brooklyn and I bumped into each other yesterday at the lake.”

She laughed. “What Dax is too polite to say is that I ran into him … literally … while on my rollerblades. I knocked Dax down, then fell into the lake, taking poor Tucker with me. It was quite the adventure.”

Dax chuckled, loving the intimate tone in Brooklyn’s voice. The space between them seemed to shrink. “Yes, it was. I just wish she would’ve landed in my arms.” He flashed a smile in Brooklyn’s direction and was pleased to hear her laugh.

“So, did you two know each other before the accident?”

Ramsey didn’t seem happy with the turn of events. A burst of pleasure rippled through Dax. Even Ramsey picked up on the connection between him and Brooklyn. “Brooklyn and I go way back.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Way back.”

“Oh,” Ramsey said. Another awkward silence passed until Ramsey cleared his throat. “About dinner?”

“What day did you say it was?” Brooklyn asked.

“Saturday.”

“Um, I’m not sure,” she said hesitantly.

Dax immediately picked up on her discomfort. She was trying to find an excuse not to go. He jumped to her rescue. “Yeah, that might not work. You were going to help me with the spaghetti dinner this Saturday.” The minute he spoke the words, he wondered if it had been a big mistake. He had no right to interfere with Brooklyn and whatever thing was between her and Ramsey. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. He didn’t want Brooklyn going out with Ramsey. Even though they’d reconnected only a day ago, he felt a sense of protectiveness where Brooklyn was concerned. He wanted a chance to get to know her, see if anything could develop between them. Time seemed to stand still as he waited for Brooklyn to respond.

“Oh, yeah. That’s right. I did promise to help with that,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

“No worries. How about Friday night instead?” Ramsey persisted.

Dax tensed. Couldn’t the guy take a hint?

“I would love to,” Brooklyn said.

Dax’s throat went dry.

“But, I have a big wedding to get ready for the following day,” Brooklyn continued. “The wedding’s at two p.m. in Draper. I’m sure I’ll be working around the clock to get everything wrapped up.”

“Okay, we’ll try another time then,” Ramsey said stiffly.

“Thanks, sounds good,” Brooklyn said noncommittally. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Nice seeing you too,” he said.

Dax couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Ramsey gave Brooklyn a peck on the cheek.

“It was nice meeting you, Dax,” Ramsey said.

“Nice meeting you too.”

After he left, Dax and Brooklyn sat back down.

“A spaghetti dinner, huh?” Brooklyn chuckled. “Thanks for bailing me out of that one.”

He waved a hand. “Anytime. So, tell me about Ramsey,” he said, careful to keep his tone casual. “Are the two of you involved?” The words bumbled off his tongue with the labored movement of a linebacker walking a balance beam. The air suddenly felt stuffy as he shifted in his seat.

“Ramsey’s mom and my mom are best friends. They’re always trying to get us together. We’ve gone out a few times, but we’re mostly just friends.”

He inclined his head. “Mostly?”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, yeah. I mean, like I said, it’s more of a … our mom’s trying to get us together sort of a thing.”

Dax could tell Ramsey was definitely interested in Brooklyn, but she was ambivalent and cagey where he was concerned. Maybe he didn’t need to brood over it. After all, she was here with him. The relief made Dax lightheaded. He couldn’t keep from smiling. “That’s good news.” This time, he reached out and felt for Brooklyn’s hand, placing his over hers. “It seems I owe you a spaghetti dinner.”

“You certainly do. But for goodness’ sake, please taste the sauce before you dump it in.”

He laughed. “Deal. It’s a date.”

“Oh? Is that what it is?”

“Absolutely,” he said lightly.

“Good to know,” she said softly, and he caught a smile in her voice. Things were good. Really good.