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“Yeah.”

“Is this—” she studied him like it was a very important investigation, “—a surprise for me, Cal?”

The muscle in his jaw flexed.

In the corner booth, Michael had given up pretending to work. Isabelle had a hand over her mouth, eyes sparkling with laughter. From the kitchen, the clatter of dishes had gone suspiciously quiet. Mary Sue was definitely listening.

Cal nodded.

“See, honey, I was thinking,” he said carefully, sounding like a man navigating a minefield, “that I could show you this surprise tomorrow night. I could… come here. Pick you up. Take you to the… surprise?”

Sage’s heart did a full, giddy, flip. Mama was right—Cal wanted her! She kept her face impressively blank.

“Was that an invitation?”

Cal scratched the back of his neck, nodding. Behind him, Michael was grinning like an idiot and Isabelle had her phone out, recording.

“Hmm.” Sage picked up the silverware again. She looked at him, eyes dancing. “So… like a date?”

Cal looked startled. “Well… I mean, it’s not a date exactly. See, it’s two friends who like⁠—”

“No thanks.”

Cal blinked. “What?”

“No thanks,” Sage said calmly. “I’m not interested.”

Cal looked awkward, slightly confused.

“But…” she added softly.

The whole diner seemed to lean in.

“…I would be interested in a date,” she said, putting deliberate weight on the word. She kept her face perfectly neutral as she folded another napkin. “A date where two adults who’ve been friends now want something more.”

Cal went very still. Those steel-gray eyes held hers, and she could see the quiet war inside him.

Come on, baby… just take a chance.

Then his big shoulders relaxed. A soft smile broke across his face.

“Okay, princess. You win.”

Sage held her breath.

“Would you like to come out on a date with me?”

It took every ounce of willpower not to whoop with joy. She pretended to consider it.

“Hmmm… I guess that depends.”

Her words swept through the diner like a gust of wind. The Halverson sisters had abandoned all pretense. Bobby Callahan Senior watched with the focused attention of a man preparing a full report for his wife. Michael and Isabelle were definitely holding hands under the table now.

Mary Sue wiped her eyes in the kitchen pass-through.

“Depends on what, princess?” Cal asked, amused. He folded those enormous arms across his chest, the movement doing unfair things to her knees.

“It depends on if you can repeat after me.”