Emily didn't remember falling asleep. One moment, she was chatting with Callan, her fingers loosely tangled with his. The next, she was drifting, her body sinking into the plush seat, her thoughts slowing until there was nothing at all.
Callan noticed when her breathing changed. It became slow, even, and peaceful.
He shifted carefully so he wouldn't wake her, easing his hand free and resting it on his thigh. Then he turned his body slightly towards her and just watched.
Her lashes rested against her cheeks, long and dark. Her lips were parted just a little, soft, relaxed. A strand of hair had slipped free and brushed her face. She looked softer and younger when she slept.
He studied her face the way one studies something precious.
For a moment, his chest tightened. 'This,' he thought. 'This is what I want.'
