THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(46)

Last night came flooding back. Talking. Laughing. Kissing. Wanting.

I withdrew, smiling lazily. This was the absolute best way to start the day. Any day.

“I’m going to grab a coffee,” I murmured. “Do you need anything?”

She shook her head, blushing slightly. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked back inside and made myself a cup of coffee. I glanced up as I stirred the milk in, and she was still watching. I smiled. Leaving the t-shirt off had been a good move.

I walked back out onto the deck and pulled up the other deck chair closer to her, settling into it and taking a sip of my coffee.

“Do you always get up so early?” I asked, turning to her.

She sat on the chair, her knees pulled up, resting her coffee cup on the arm of the chair. She leant her head back against the head-rest.

“I like the peace and quiet first thing in the morning. Feels like the day is still deciding what it’s going to be. Makes me feel special, being there when it does.”

I don’t know how she did it, but she always seemed to turn the trivial on its head, making it feel spiritual. I could see why she and Bridget had clicked straight away. Like Bridget, she seemed like an old soul, someone who had been here before and who already had it all figured out. I was jealous.

“I want you to come with me tomorrow,” I said, while the idea was still forming in my head. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

She looked at me quizzically.

“Em’s grandfather, Henry. He’s probably one of my most favourite people on the planet. I’d really like you to meet him.”

She smiled. “Bridget’s Dad? The one with the sweet tooth?”

“That’s not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of him,” I chuckled. “But yeah.”

“I’d love to meet him. I’ve heard so much about him.”

I grinned. “I think you’d really like him.”

I reached over for her hand and she gave it up willingly. As we laced our fingers together, I felt like I was ten feet tall. Like I could leap tall buildings in a single bound. Like I had nothing to fear and everything to look forward to. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt that way.

I took her into town after breakfast, and we checked her car. She had parked it on a side street the day before, only a few blocks from the café. She stuffed some clothes into a bag and I took her back to my place so she could get ready for work. Once we’d both showered and changed, I dropped her back at the café.

I sat beside her, the truck’s engine idling, and held up a key.

“Front door key,” I said, reaching out to take her hand, placing the key in it.

“Thanks.”

She smiled then, a smile that seemed to fly directly inside my chest, bypassing my ribs and alighting on my heart. I was struck by the familiarity of the sensation, like an echo of a song I’d heard somewhere before. The realisation temporarily stole my breath.

Trying to drown out my own inner voice, I leaned over and kissed her, a little more deeply than I’d meant to. She kissed me back, as if she wanted to reassure me. When we slowly drew apart moments later, we were both breathless.

“Why do you do that?” she breathed, her eyes holding mine.

“Do what?”

“Sometimes you kiss me as if you’re afraid I’m going to disappear.”

I couldn’t think of a single word to say that would make any sense. How did she know? How could she know?

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, reaching up to gently run her thumb across my eyebrow.

The gesture was simple enough, yet it sent a shiver through me that almost stopped my heart. Em used to do that, and it used to drive me wild. Just like it was doing now.

“Maybe because sometimes I feel like this is all too good to be true,” I murmured.

Forcing the ghosts aside, I leaned forward to kiss her again, closing my eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of her. She didn’t need to speak. I could feel the urgency in her kiss, as if she felt the same way but was too afraid to say it out loud.

It soothed me, knowing we were in agreement. Perhaps the shared wonder at what we had stumbled across was part of the magic.





I SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY thinking about that. Perhaps it was a mixture of magic, timing and fate, stepping in just when I’d given up. Some kind of cosmic cupid’s arrow, even. I wanted to laugh at the notion – at myself, for even thinking like that. I didn’t believe in that kind of thing.