Page 15 of Pining for You

“I’ve never made it to the east coast. Or west. Mom used to mention it, but with my dad’s business taking up most of the summer, and Granddad’s business busiest in December, we never found the time.”

Interesting she didn’t mention the time she married. Guess her husband never took her anywhere either. Maybe they couldn’t afford it. Travel wasn’t cheap. But her admission gave me hope that she was relaxing.

“I’ve been to BC. When I was in tenth grade, my parents flew us out to BC to use up some of my dad’s travel points.” Technically they’d taken me, my brother Adrian and my younger sister Cynthia with them because Joy and Shelly weren’t living at home anymore, but I didn’t figure she needed that much detail. “I loved it there, especially the island and out by Whistler. I’d go back in a heartbeat. Try hiking around Tofino or Nanaimo. Climb some of their trees. They’re huge.”

She made a snorting laugh that had her clapping her hand over her mouth so I couldn’t quite make out what she said, but I’m pretty sure it was a “that’s what she said” joke. Instead, once she dropped her hand, she said, “You ever thought of going to live out there? Working for one of the logging companies?”

I shook my head. “Nah, my family’s here. Well, everyone but Shelly and her kids. Plus, I like being an arborist. I know you think all I do is cut down trees, but being an arborist is more than that. It’s saving them too.” Worried I might lose her if I launched into a recitation of exactly why I loved my job, I turned the question back on her again in hopes this topic was innocuous enough that she could share with me. “How about you? Have you travelled much?”

She stared out the window for so long, I thought she wasn’t going to answer. I contented myself in admiring how the glow from the parking lot lights accentuated her cheekbones, the curve of her lips. Finally, she faced me again, her lips staying curled up, giving me hope that I’d won her trust. “I’ve never had the chance to travel. I’ve wanted to. I’d love to see France. And England. And Italy. Maybe Iceland. My ex and I talked about taking a trip somewhere—I even got my passport, but then he decided either we couldn’t afford it right then, or there was some big project he couldn’t get away from.” Bitterness crept into her voice and her lips thinned. “There’d always be some reason. But one day I’ll get to travel. I have my passport so if the opportunity comes up, I’m set to go.”

“You’re a real-life Lucy Moderatz.”

She lowered her glass and stared at me, obviously confused. “Lucy who?”

“Lucy Moderatz. Or whatever her last name is. Sandra Bullock’s character in While You Were Sleeping.”

Her jaw dropped slightly before she sipped on her drink as if she were hiding behind the glass “You’ve watched While You Were Sleeping? And you aren’t afraid to admit it?”

“Hey, I have two older sisters who controlled the TV when they babysat me. So yeah, I grew up on rom-coms. For the record, While You were Sleeping is a Christmas classic. I also like Clueless, Sleepless in Seattle, Sweet Home Alabama and Legally Blonde. Full disclosure, I also like Hot Fuzz, the original Star Wars movies, the entire Terminator series, Zombieland. Shaun of the Dead…” I let my sentence die off. Would she prefer movies like Dead Poets Society or something classier?

“And?” Chloe prompted.

Damn it. I dug through my memory for another movie title but came up blank. Eventually I blurted, “Shawshank Redemption.”

That should be acceptable, shouldn’t it? It was from a Stephen King book, and that was literature.

Her eyes narrowed. “Is this first-date fodder you’re feeding me, when you’d really rather watch football or baseball all weekend?” She grimaced. “Or golf.”

I grimaced in return. “I only watch golf when I want to have a midafternoon nap. For sports, I prefer baseball,” I explained. “But I don’t watch all the games. A friend of mine, Nick, is friends with Dante Wood. So he gets Nick tickets whenever his team plays the Blue Jays and sometimes Nick invites me.”

At her blank expression, I explained. “Dante Wood? He’s from Toronto? Plays in the big leagues down in Texas.”

I stopped. Chloe Pogue. My friend was Nick Pogue. It wasn’t an unusual name but to know two people from the same part of the province with the same last? Couldn’t be coincidence, could it? “Wait a minute. By any chance are you related to Nick Pogue?”

“Yeah, he’s my second cousin.” She frowned. “Or cousin once removed. I never could figure that out. My grandfather’s brother was his grandfather.”

Her shoulders hunched, and something in her expression hardened. Was it that she didn’t like Nick, didn’t like me knowing Nick or…what had happened? What had I triggered when mentioning her cousin?

“Huh. Small world.”

First thing once this date was done, I’d be texting Nick to find out Chloe’s backstory, and all about her snake-charming ex.

6

CHLOE

When we were finished, and I’d turned down dessert, Brad offered to drive me home, but I told him it wasn’t necessary. I lived less than a five-minute walk away. I wanted the air and the time it would take me to walk home to clear my head. To think about how tonight had gone. How attracted to him I was and how it wasn’t just physical, like I figured it would be after I met him.

It was different from my first date with Tony. I wasn’t trying to impress Brad, and I don’t think he was trying to impress me. He didn’t show off his truck, or talk about how much money he made. He didn’t spend an hour putting down his ex—nope, I had been the one to mention exes. Nor did he complain about his relationship with his parents. In fact, he was proud of his family, but he didn’t gloat about it. All green flags in my check list.

Not only that but he was a good listener, was careful to make sure the conversation wasn’t one-sided, didn’t fuss about me splitting the check, and had a good sense of humor. A little soft around the edges with his open affection for rom-com movies and things his sisters had taught him, but I wasn’t going to complain about that. It was reassuring to have a man who had no hangups about anything impugning his precious masculinity.

And he was so good-looking. That big, friendly, capable kind of good-looking that appealed to me, especially after life with Tony. I could end this night right and honestly say I wanted to see Brad again. And soon.

But when we exited the restaurant and I told him I wanted to walk home, he frowned.

“It’s dark out. And it’s late. I’d feel better if you let me walk you home.” He held his hands up. “No pressure. I won’t even ask for a kiss good night. I won’t feel right if I leave you to walk home unescorted. That’s not how my parents raised me.”

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