Page 11 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

I opted to join the group for the tour of the basilica with its soaring, delicate architecture.

Then we all enjoyed walking through the historic Beaconsfield House that very well could have been Aunt Josephine’s grand home, where Anne and Diana stayed in the spare room upon their visit to Charlottetown.

Should I pinch myself? It was like I’d been dropped into one of my daydreams. I felt such kinship with the fictional character that it was hard to remind myself that she was just that: fiction.

We even drove by Holland College, where Prince of Wales College—Lucy Maud Montgomery’s alma mater—had once been.

I’m fairly certain that detour was for me, because despite the love that Gemma and her three daughters might have for Anne of Green Gables, they didn’t seem overly enthused by the less touristy locations.

Meanwhile, I had stared like a drooling dog at the beautiful campus as we passed, and imagined Queens College, where Anne had earned her teacher’s degree.

This was the part of traveling I’d missed. Immersing myself in a new world. Coming to a bookish location though? I hadn’t realized vacations could attain this level of fun.

Work trip s, I mean.

But whatever they were called, it made me want this job even more.

To be able to create this experience for other people would make going to work like a mini vacation every day.

Already I was dreaming up what a Jane Austen tour would look like.

Or Louisa May Alcott. I could help other people have this same feeling I was experiencing.

Everyone in the group, particularly the toddler, was dragging by the time we got back to Queens Square to enjoy some shopping and food before the Anne of Green Gables musical that evening.

Gemma took her family to a late lunch once little Luke had fallen asleep on his mom, and she tried her best to convince Finn and me to join them, but I’d just seen an Anne of Green Gables store across the street and suddenly wasn’t very hungry.

Not even the cute bistro tables covered in dappled sunlight from the trees above could convince me to sit and not explore that store.

“I’ll stick with Lucy,” Finn said, pushing his hands in his pockets and coming to stand beside me.

Gemma’s gaze moved back and forth between both of us, light glinting behind her mischievous eyes as she waved us away.

I looked both ways before crossing the street to the brick building, Finn at my side. “You know Gemma thinks there’s something going on between us,” I said.

“Someone should tell her that your idea of a pet name is menace .”

I laughed as I stepped into the store. Warm light and shelves of merchandise surrounded me. The Anne of Green Gables —BBC version—soundtrack played quietly in the background. Nostalgia ran over me for the seven hundredth time that day.

“Do you feel like you’ve fallen into a junior high daydream?” Finn asked, his voice teasing.

“Try adult daydream.”

“Still obsessed?”

For some reason, I wasn’t as annoyed as I’d historically been when Finn Harrison had brought up my love of Anne of Green Gables .

Unlike in school, he hadn’t spent every waking minute we’d been together so far teasing me.

Just half of them. So, there was a fifty-fifty chance this wasn’t a tease but an actual question.

“Maybe even more so,” I responded as I walked into the store. “Now I’m not just obsessed with Anne, I’m obsessed with Lucy Maud. She was a genius.”

“Fun coincidence that you have the same name.”

“No coincidence. My mom loved the books too.” I picked up trinkets here and there for my cousins, laughed at a few T-shirts, and just enjoyed the fact that I was here, surrounded by a world that had helped raise me.

Anne of Green Gables was a fantastic story in its own right, but add the fact that Anne had been my best friend when I’d felt so misunderstood and misplaced, and it would’ve held a special place in my heart regardless.

Finn didn’t stick by me the entire time.

At one point, I saw him chatting with the girl at the checkout counter, and at another time, he was looking at merchandise across the room.

But after a while, he came up beside me again, eyes raking over the armful of goodies I held.

“Once you’ve bought out the store, I’ve got something I want to show you.

” He gestured to the door with his head.

“Okay, just let me buy this stuff first.”

Again, he looked over my souvenirs and bit his lips together in clear amusement.

I ignored him, also ignoring my better judgment and my bank account as I made for the counter.

Still, at the last second, I did put a couple of things away—only a couple, though.

I had to be forgiven for a lack of complete restraint.

As Finn had said, I had been dropped into my adulthood daydream. I couldn’t help myself.

Once I’d paid, Finn grabbed my merchandise bag from my hands and held the door open, leading me down the street. A few shops down, he stopped. I g lanced up and read the painted words across the windows. Anne of Green Gables Chocolates.

My daydream had just been upgraded.

Finn bought a box of chocolates for me, despite my protestations.

And when he held the door again and purposely walked between me and the street, I almost told him to cut it out.

But I couldn’t exactly say I didn’t like how nice he was being, so I just bit the inside of my cheek instead.

My mind was in its usual state of overdrive—what did all of this mean? Why was he being so solicitous?

The knowledge that he’d had a crush on me was clearly wreaking havoc with my thoughts.

My brain seemed to think that a decade ago was synonymous with this week.

But it wasn’t. Most likely, he’d simply grown into a decent guy.

Just because I hadn’t had much experience with men like that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

So again, not my fault that my mind was struggling here.

Also, as an addendum to that, it was not my fault that my eyes kept straying to the side, noticing how he’d shortened his long stride to match mine and how the light breeze was ruffling his dark hair.

Thank goodness for the distraction of meeting back up with the Hastings.

Together, we perused shops for another hour before arriving early for the musical.

I was seated between Finn and the eldest Hastings daughter, Martha, or Mar as she insisted I call her.

She had her newborn baby strapped to her chest, snoozing away.

The seats were plush, and the hushed conversation around me reignited that bubbly feeling of anticipation.

I had watched every Anne adaptation there was, but I had not seen a musical, and my leg was bouncing up and down with suppressed excitement.

I stopped myself from taking a picture of the empty stage just for the memory.

Finn’s hand landed on my knee, stilling it. I looked with surprise up into his face. He was silently laughing.

“You ar e shaking our entire row,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The warmth from his hand on my bare knee somehow made me shiver.

As if sensing my reaction, his eyes lost a bit of their humor as he stared at me. There was something in that look. Something in the way his eyes flicked to my lips and back up.

Something I wouldn’t name. Nope. Not doing it.

I tore my gaze away, intently watching the stage. After a way too long couple of seconds, Finn’s hand lifted from my leg. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

But then he sank lower in his chair, opened the program, and stuck his elbow across our shared armrest. Inches from my arm.

In an attempt to distract myself, I opened my own program. Mar leaned across me to talk to Finn, a hand to the back of her baby’s head.

“Have you seen this before?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, so I glanced up just in time to catch the tail end of him shaking his head.

My brows pulled together. “What do you mean you haven’t seen this before? You’ve taken tours here a ton of times, haven’t you?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

Gemma said something from Mar’s side, catching her attention. It was just me and Finn again.

“How have you not seen this musical?”

“It’s not always running.”

I quirked a brow. “But it is sometimes?”

Another moment of hesitation passed before he nodded again.

Then, as if physically shaking off his evident embarrassment, his smile grew, and he sat a little straighter.

The tables were turned faster than when Elizabeth had refused Darcy’s first proposal.

I leaned away, but there was only so far I could go in the small seat before I’d run into Mar and her baby.

“Lucy, do you want me to admit I only came to the showing because you’re here?”

“Well, no, that’s not what I was saying.”

“It’s the truth. Usually, I just drop tour members off at the scheduled tours. I don’t join them in everything. Or anything, really.” His voice was low, and goosebumps erupted on my arm. I willed his eyes to stay on mine so he wouldn’t notice that.

“But you do buy them chocolates, right?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He shook his head a little. The lights were starting to dim, and the low lighting made the lines of his face even more attractive. “Only the cute ones.”

That checked out. With all his flirting and teasing, he probably had a different fling each week.

Unfortunately, even that thought didn’t stop my rising attraction to the guy.

The musical started, but now instead of the sensation of excitement tingling through me, it was an entirely different sensation that had everything to do with the fact that Finn still held control of my armrest and at least half of my attention.

I couldn’t help but think back to sixth grade with this guy.

At one point, I had compared him to Gilbert Blythe…

Not the kind, intelligent Gilbert, but the one who had pulled Anne’s hair and called her Carrots.

The version whom I would’ve liked to break a slate over his head.

Back then, I had considered myself Anne and him, Gilbert.

Until I had gone on to read the rest of the series and realized that they were destined to be romantic interests for one another.

This felt like a repeat of that moment. A realization about Finn. But this time, it was that he was dangerous in his control over my emotions. I couldn’t afford a distraction on this trip, but more than that, I wasn’t looking for romance. Not now, not… ever.

So even though Finn shot me smiling looks, whispered comments in my ear, and kept his leg near mine for most of the musical, I didn’t give in to any of it. I’d decided something back in sixth grade, and reaffirmed it now: Finn couldn’t be my Gilbert.