The Reunion(96)

“Of course I know it’s you. How’s the cast?”

“Dry.”

“Perfect answer,” he says, chuckling into the phone. “So, I take it if your cast is dry, you haven’t sat in any puddles lately?”

“Nope. Aren’t you proud?”

“So proud. But why aren’t you over here, hanging out with me? I thought that was the plan.”

“I know, that’s why I’m calling. I had some last-minute planning to do for the anniversary party.” Procrastinated on that as well. “It’s in two days, and after hearing from my brothers, I’m really worried nothing is getting done. I decided to spend the day making some calls to see if I can get any catering and whatnot.” I feel a twinge of guilt—when I say “spend the day,” I really mean an hour.

“Did you?”

“No,” I sigh into the phone. “Seems like everything needs to be booked weeks in advance. Painful. I’ve come to the realization that the sandwiches Cooper ordered are what we’re going to have to deal with.”

“Everyone likes sandwiches.”

“But they’re so not fancy.”

“Maybe not fancy is okay.”

“But my parents deserve fancy. Don’t worry, though—the cake will be good. I called Nora this morning and changed it back to lavender and made her swear not to say anything. She has to start baking it today. Caught her at the last minute.”

“A battle well fought and won.”

“Thank you, dear sir. So, anyway, I want to make it up to you, for not hanging out tonight. I know you were interested in some fondling.”

He lets out a belly laugh. “Jesus, where’s your filter, girl?”

“Lost it a long time ago. But I was hoping you’d go out to dinner with me tomorrow. I know the perfect little place.”

“Would this be a date?”

“Yes, which means I’ll wear uncomfortable underwear in the hope of you taking it off.”

“Is that how all your dates work?” he asks.

“No, never, actually, but a date with you is different.”

“Another good answer. You’re two for two, Palmer. Want to see if you can go three for three?”

“Try me.”

“Tonight, when you go to bed, are you going to think about me?” If only he knew . . .

“What kind of question is that? Of course. You’re what I’ve thought about for a long time.”





CHAPTER FORTY





LARKIN


“Wow, I have never been here before,” I say, taking in the small yet endlessly romantic hole-in-the-wall restaurant. If I were by myself, I never would have noticed this place. Sandwiched between two large brick buildings, it’s covered in ivy and offers a dim dining mood with intimate lighting.

Earlier today, we rode the ferry into Seattle and did some paddling on the bay, which was hilariously horrible to watch.

Poor Ford. I think he was in the water more than he was on the paddleboard. Even when he went down to his knees, he struggled. At one point, he was on his back, looking up at the sky, and he still fell off. That time I almost wet myself laughing.

We accepted the fact that he was not a paddleboarder, which would be crossed off the list of activities he’d continue to participate in. But he has expressed interest in fishing again, camping, and hiking. He also wants to take a survival course at one of the stores, which would be a lot of fun, and also add some classes to the schedule, like camp cooking and the basics of fly-fishing so that beginners—like him—don’t fall in the water. He also is very much interested in bringing back Snake Week, the idea I was telling him about. He’s so engaged and excited—it’s like his mind is exploding with ideas, and that’s exactly what we were looking for. When I asked him if he thought of any branding yet, he was still blank, but I know if I can open him up to his siblings, he’d be more than willing to see what Cooper has to propose. A dark cloud is hanging over his family right now, and we need to brighten that up before we move forward. Easier said than done, though, and I’m treading carefully. The last thing I want is for Ford to think I’ve gone behind his back.

“See that booth back there?” Ford leans in, his breath tickling my ear as he points to a booth set back against the wall, beside a small fireplace.

“Yes, the one that lines up with the brick wall?”

“Yup, my dad proposed to my mom in that booth.”

“Really?” I ask, a smile stretching over my face. “That’s so special.”

“Yeah, we’ve had many special family dinners at this restaurant. We always commemorated major moments here, like our adoption days and graduations. Things that mattered.” Ford lifts my hand and lightly kisses my knuckles. “And since today marks our first official date, I figured we could—”

“Larkin?” I turn around and spot my brother, wearing a sport coat, khakis, and a confused expression on his face. “What’s going on?”

Oh crap.

Oh God, it’s my brother.

My brother is here, watching my boss kiss my knuckles.

“Hey, Beau,” I say with a wave, trying to act as casual as possible. This is all normal. Ford kissing my hand, totally normal. “Uh, just having dinner. You?”