The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(10)

So. Here she was again, staring down the weekend with only Spike, her recently acquired little mutt, for company, and while Spike was indeed excellent company, Honor had sort of hoped for the human variety. Ryan Gosling would’ve been preferred, but he had plans, apparently. Dana was busy, and had been busy a lot lately, which was getting a little frustrating, as winter in the Finger Lakes meant there already wasn’t much to do. Take the best girlfriend out of the equation, and there was even less.

Faith was busy being a newlywed. Pru was busy pretending to be a newlywed. Jack had come over to watch the gruesome medical documentaries they both loved on Honor’s fabulous new TV, and she had the feeling she’d tapped him out on the social front. Abby was a popular kid, and Honor couldn’t bring herself to beg the teenager to hang out and watch movies. Ditto Ned, who already spent enough time with Honor at work.

This left Goggy and Pops, who were always happy to see her but fought constantly, and Dad, who was acting a little weird lately. Jumpy. Secretive.

Would Mrs. Johnson be up for something? Sometimes she’d go to a movie with Honor, though she clucked about the unsanitary nature of theaters, theater staff and humans in general. Hmm. Mrs. Johnson was probably her best bet. They could bring Spike, who loved movies as well as popcorn.

At that moment, her phone rang, startling her so much that she sloshed her coffee. Spike barked from her little doggy bed and began leaping up against Honor’s leg, tearing her panty hose. Though she’d only had Spike for a month, the dog was very protective.

“I’ll get it!” Honor yelled to Ned, the only other employee here at this hour.

“Of course you will,” he yelled back from his office, where the sounds of Angry Birds could be heard.

“Blue Heron Vineyard, Honor Holland speaking,” she said smoothly into the phone, scooping up her doggy.

“Hey, On, it’s Brogan.”

A burst of heat raced up her legs. “Hey! Hi! How are you? How’s it going?” Down, girl, said the eggs. He rejected us, remember?

True. But they’d only emailed a few times since then, and damn if she didn’t miss him.

“I’m really good,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m good! I’m great! I’m great, too, I mean.” The eggs sighed.

“So listen,” he continued, “I’m in town, and I was hoping you could find some time to see me.”

Honor paused. The words old baseball glove leaped to mind. Then again, they’d always been friends. Still were. “What did you have in mind?”

I’m really sorry about saying no, Honor. These past few weeks have given me time to think and I love you and I want to marry you. Now.

“Drinks at O’Rourke’s?” he asked.

“Sure! You bet.”

“Fantastic,” he said, and his voice was warm. There was a pause. “I have something important to tell you, and I want to do it in person. I think—I hope—it’ll make you really happy.”

The eggs sat up straighter. So did Honor.

“Okay,” she said, pressing her fingers against her hot cheeks. “That sounds great.”

“Seven o’clock?”

Seven! That was in ninety-two minutes. “That works. I’ll see you then.”

She sat there another minute, then sucked in an enormous breath, having forgotten how to breathe normally. Spike licked her chin in concern, and Honor patted her out of reflex. Turned to her computer and typed in Brogan’s words. Studied them. Read them aloud, very softly so her nephew wouldn’t hear.

“Hey,” the same nephew said from her doorway, causing Honor to slap her laptop closed. Ned gave her a strange look. “Chill, Honor.”

“What is it, Neddie dear?”

“You okay? You look all blotchy.”

“Shush, child. What do you want?”

“I’m leaving. I have a date. And a life. You should try it some time.”

“Very funny, Ned. Have fun. Drive carefully.”

She waited till his footsteps had faded away, then opened her laptop and looked at those words again. I have something important to tell you, and I think—I hope—it’ll make you really happy.

Could it be?

Could this be exactly what she wished for?

For one second, the scene flashed in front of her eyes. Herself, sitting at a little table at O’Rourke’s. Brogan on bended knee, the ring shining from a black velvet box. His question, her answer, the applause of the pub patrons, and then, finally, the feeling of his arms around her as he kissed her in public for the first time ever.

Her heart was thudding. Could this really be about to happen to her? The most unsurprising of the Holland girls, the one who was steady as a rock, about to be the subject of such a romantic proposal, finally claimed by Brogan Cain?

It was almost hard to believe. Yeah, about that, said the eggs. The years are precious, sure, but don’t jump the gun.

She ignored them. Adjusted her hairband (pink-and-green plaid). Read the words again.

It sure sounded like what she wanted it to sound like. Oh, yes, indeedy.

Legs trembling slightly, Honor settled Spike in her purse (why have a five-pound dog if you couldn’t take her everywhere?), gave her an absentminded kiss on the head and walked across the lawn to the New House, where Mrs. Johnson was banging pots and pans in the kitchen. Dad was there as well, his face red, stuffing his hands into his faded jeans, a tear in the elbow of his flannel shirt.