Page 33 of Hang the Moon
“Brendon makes a very cute tour guide.” A fine—veryfine—distraction until Darcy returned from vacation. Good company so she wasn’t stuck exploring on her own. “But that’s it.”
Chapter Six
Sunday, May 30
BRENDON (12:19 P.M.):Hey! Are we still on for today?
Annie sipped the Starbucks cinnamon dolce latte she’d purchased around the corner from Darcy’s apartment and hovered her thumb over her keyboard, remembering what she’d told Darcy on the phone.
Brendon makes a very cute tour guide. But that’s it.
Whatever Darcy thought was going on? She was wrong. Brendon was showing her around Seattle. He was being friendly. So what if he’d gone from adorable, gangly teenager to broad shouldered and gorgeous? So what if he was wicked funny and made her laugh? It didn’t mean anything that his smiles—and dimples—made her tingle. Utterly irrelevant.
ANNIE (12:27 P.M.):Sure. What time?
BRENDON (12:31 P.M.):If I swing by at 5, does that work?
She tipped her cup back, draining the dregs of her latte. That was nearly five hours from now. Breakfast had consisted of leftover pastries. She’d have to track down some real food for lunch, because Darcy’s refrigerator was empty save for a bottle of pinot grigio and a box of Go-Gurt she’d bet belonged to Elle.
ANNIE (12:34 P.M.):Works for me
ANNIE (12:36 P.M.):Where are we going?
BRENDON (12:37 P.M.):
A secret.Interesting.
BRENDON (12:38 P.M.):Bring a jacket. Temps are dropping into the low sixties tonight.
They’d be outside. Not much of a hint. It was summer, or as good as, and most landmarks were outdoors. He could be taking her anywhere. The Space Needle. The... okay, that was the only guess she had. There was the market and Microsoft and Mount Rainier, and according to Darcy, the city’s culture was eclectic. Actually, the word she’d used wasweird, but in the past couple of monthsweirdhad earned the addition ofwonderfully, so Annie had read between the lines.
ANNIE (12:39 P.M.):Will do!
His determination to prove to her that romance wasn’t dead lingered in the back of her mind. Yesterday he might’ve dropped a few comments about love and romance into theirconversations, but nothing so overt that she felt as if he’d actually tried. She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of ace he had up his sleeve.
ANNIE (12:40 P.M.):Are you sure I can’t get a teeny hint?
BRENDON (12:46 P.M.):
***
At 4:55, there was a knock at the door.
“Coming!”
She stole one last sip of wine from the glass she’d been nursing over the past half hour and opened the door.
She immediately zeroed in on the bouquet of pink roses clutched in Brendon’s left hand. There were at least two dozen, their stems long and tied off with a grosgrain ribbon the same color as the blooms.
Her eyes darted between the bouquet and Brendon’s crinkle-eyed grin.
“Hi.” He dimpled, offering her the flowers. “These are for you.”
His fingers brushed hers as she took the roses from him, pleased to note there weren’t any thorns to contend with, though the bouquet was heavier than she’d expected. She choked up on the stems when the bouquet wobbled, teetering to the side.
She walked backward, waving him inside. Hopefully Darcy had a vase tucked away somewhere. “They’re beautiful, Brendon. Thank you.”
Truth be told, she found roses overrated—not to mention their aroma funky—but she wasn’t about to tell him that because the gesture was sweet. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought her flowers.
