Page 17 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

A drop of jealousy ran through me. A wish that I could feel that way about my work. I used to have big goals that got me excited… but now…

I ignored all that and focused on her question, even overlooking the fact that I wasn’t technically supposed to be talking right now.

“There are several. It depends on how small you want to get. Dalvay By the Sea, North Rustico. They did a lot of filming in Toronto, so not on the island. But we’ve got a few. ”

I could see her nodding from the corner of my eye. She had her laptop out on her lap and was tapping away on it. Her fingers paused for just a second. “Thank you,” she said. “This might give me an edge over my competition.”

“Anytime.”

Her typing filled the silence again.

When there was a lull in her clacking, I tried my luck at a little conversation. “How did you end up in this job?” I asked.

“A friend worked for the company and told me about the opening.”

“You mean, you didn’t grow up wanting to be a travel agent?”

I caught the tail end of her lips twitching. “It’s a pretty good gig, to be honest. At first, I thought it would get my mom and me discounts on our trips.”

“But you don’t travel anymore.”

“We already had this conversation.”

“I know. Do you ever get jealous hearing all the fun stories of your clients when they get back?”

“I don’t usually hear them, actually. I do all the work before they leave, and occasionally handle problems while they are on their trip, but I rarely hear all about it unless they send me a postcard or something.

” She typed a couple of things on her laptop, but hadn’t gotten mad at me for distracting her, so when she stopped, I kept going.

“Our jobs go hand in hand, you know. We both help other people live out their dream vacations,” I said.

I could feel her stare when she looked over at me. “Yeah, but you don’t love your job. What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“A doctor,” I said before I could stop the words.

She nodded instead of laughing at me. I mean, who’d heard of a tour guide-turned-doctor? Especially one who’d, from the outside, given up on the dream. “Right. Isn’t that what your dad was? I remember he came for a career fair.”

“No,” I said. Too fast. The word came out short and angry. I tried to backtrack, delivering the next sentence with nonchalance, so she would n’t see how much I hated this topic. “No, he was on the board of a hospital. Businessman. Not doctor.”

“Did he… Did he pass away?” she asked, every part of the sentence making it clear she wasn’t sure if she could be asking that.

I liked talking to Lucy, and didn't mind her asking questions… just not these questions. A big part of me wished I could just say yes and move on.

“No. He still lives in the Salt Lake area.” I gripped the steering wheel just for something to do with my extra energy.

“Gotcha.”

And then I felt like a jerk when the car got quiet again. Her typing didn’t start up again.

“My dad’s a deadbeat.” I regretted the words the second I said them. She didn’t need to know my life story. It was more tragedy than happily ever after, and I happened to know that was not her cup of tea.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not your fault.” Yeah, those kinds of warm and fuzzy responses really made me feel like less of a jerk. I mentally chilled myself out before adding. “He did some stupid white collar crime stuff, got himself thrown in jail, and didn’t want me to come live with him again when he got out.”

More silence. I wasn’t making this any better. Did they create erasers for conversation? I’d like a redo.

“That makes me sound like I’m all bitter about it. I’m not. I got to come here, and Pops and Gram were amazing. Plus things weren’t great with my dad before that all happened anyway, so really it’s been fine.”

“Wait.” Her decade-long silence was finally broken. Praise the heavens. “When did this all happen?”

“Eighth grade. Fall break.”

“That’s… that’s why you never came back?”

My eyes f litted over to her and again to the road. “Yeah. I thought it was common knowledge. Small-town headline news.”

She closed her laptop. “My mom was never interested in the news. All I heard was from a few people at school that you moved. Maybe something about it… but no specific information.”

“Well, I did. Move.”

“Jeez, Finn, that must have sucked. That must have really sucked.”

“Yeah.”

“Crap.”

I looked over again. “What?”

Her hands twisted around the edges of her laptop, nervous. “I was so mean.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve established that that was me.”

“No, you were a teenage boy. Ah—no, I’m not saying you were perfect, so you can wipe that unrepentant grin from your face, but…

I was, I was—” she waved her hands wildly.

“I was so happy you were gone. You were my tormentor. My nemesis. The shark attack to my beautiful beach day—and then you were gone, and I was so… glad.” She spun in her chair, facing me head-on though I couldn’t do more than shoot quick glances her way.

“I’m such a jerk. I had no clue why you’d left, and I’m so sorry.

” She paused. “What about… what about your mom?”

“Dead,” I said, the cherry on top of this uplifting conversation. “When I was three.”

“I am so sorry.” She honestly sounded on the verge of tears.

“Hey, it’s totally fine, it’s not your fault my home life was a mess.”

Her hands were still in the air, and she let them fall with a sigh.

I tossed her a grin. “Your ‘shark attack on a beautiful beach day’?”

Silence, then, “I may have gotten a bit carried away.”

“You should write a book.”

“And use all those big words you used to make fun of me for?”

“I noti ce you don’t use quite so many. Has your vocabulary diminished or has mine grown?”

“Are you implying that you have, at long last, succeeded in transcending the limitations of your rudimentary lexicon?”

I burst out laughing. “Lexicon?”

“It just means vocabulary.”

“Thank you, dictionary.”

She gave a little bow. But after another moment, she said again, “I am really sorry, Finn. That’s a rough… that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, sorry to dump it all on you.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant it’s a lot for a teenage kid to go through. I’m glad you had your grandparents, but I wish you didn’t need to move.”

“But if I hadn’t, I would have dug a deeper hole with you. There would have been no saving us. And look how good we’re doing now.”

She smiled over at me, those pink lips all sorts of tantalizing, but I forced my eyes back on the road as I flipped on my blinker, turning onto the red dirt drive flanked by green pastures that led to the Seacow Head Lighthouse.

Lucy leaned toward the windshield. “Oh my gosh, it’s perfect.”

I pulled into the dirt parking lot. The lighthouse was across the street, and only a handful of cars inhabited the lot with us, so it wouldn’t be very busy. That was perfect. It wasn’t a large lighthouse, so when it was overrun with tourists, it was a lot less enjoyable.

We got out of the van and started walking. I tried to see the lighthouse as Lucy might see it. It had a stark white, wooden exterior with a bright red cap. It was cute. Well-maintained. Charming.

And Lucy had a huge smile on her face.

I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing her hand or putting an arm around her to bring that happiness even closer. She was like a sun w ith that smile, and I was cold after that conversation about my family.

“I feel like I’m in a movie,” she whispered as we approached the door.

The inside was a mix of white and natural wood with a few people milling around looking at some of the things on display in the lower level.

Mostly, though, the inside was all staircase.

I gestured with my head, my hands still firmly contained, and she proceeded me up the steps.

It was a bad idea. She filled the space in front of me. All Lucy. Nowhere else to look.

So, I stared at my feet.

I knew the moment she glimpsed the windowed room, because her little gasp had me looking back up. What I didn’t expect was for her to look back at me with eyes wide in amazement. Her smile stretched even wider, and she hurried the rest of the way.

There were two teenage girls in the little circular room, but just as we exited the stairs, they switched us spots and headed down, leaving Lucy and me alone with the view.

Three hundred sixty degrees of view.

The tour guide in me tried to take over.

Facts upon facts of this place threatened to spill out of my mouth, but I kept them back.

Lucy was standing, framed perfectly within the sill of one of the windows, staring out with complete ecstasy.

I couldn’t blame her. One hundred and eighty degrees was sparkling blue water and cloudless blue sky, and the other was half sky, half lush green farmland.

It felt like being inside whatever the summery version of a snow globe would be.

I leaned against the back windows, a bit to the side so the rotating light in the center wouldn’t block my view of her.

And it hit me. I really liked this girl.

It felt stupid saying that in my head—like, duh, of course I liked Lucy.

But this “like” was eerily similar to my massive junior high crush version of “like.” She made my chest all hot and excited to see her. She filled my thoughts more than I’d like to admit. She brought a smile to my face even when she was cranky with me.

As any romance-obsessed nine-year-old might say, I “ like liked” her.

“Lucy,” I said. Her gaze snapped to mine, hers still filled with awe reflective of the beautiful world around us.

Her brows lifted with a question.

“Let’s go on a date.”

Her lifted brows turned surprised as her head tilted to the side. “I’m sorry, what?”

“A date. You and me. Let me take you to dinner tonight.”

She blinked. “No.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. More out of surprise than anything. “No?”

“Yes. I mean, no. No, you’re crazy.”

“What’s crazy? I like you. I want to take you out.”

She was shaking her head. “So, you take me out and then what?”

I shrugged. It didn’t matter. It was one date, and we would have fun. Why did it need to have a “then what?”

“And that’s why my answer is no.”

“Because I don’t have a life plan for us?” I was grinning. Was it a defense mechanism? Because, honestly, it felt like I’d been kicked in the gut.

“No, because I’m just a fling for you. You probably had one in your tour group last week, and I’m here for work, so I can’t really go out with you, then have you turn tour guide again tomorrow.”

“Why not? I doubt things would be so bad at dinner that I wouldn’t let you on the tours anymore. Unless… wait. Do you secretly hate chocolate? Am I going to find out when dessert comes that you're some health nut? I can’t date someone who will judge my health decisions.”

“Be ser ious, Finn. I—”

Heads popped out of the staircase. People who’d probably heard at least half that conversation as they came up the stairs. Could I use that in my favor? A little peer pressure to get Lucy to go out with me?

Because, not to be a typical guy, but her “hard to get” act was not helping her cause here. I suddenly had my competitive nature joining in with my interest in her, and it was a lethal combination.

But Lucy was turning red and avoiding the looks of the couple entering the observation room, so I decided not to play red rover and send them on over to my team. Instead, I crossed the little room, joining her on her side and letting the new couple have mine.

“Just one date, Luce. I just want to take you out. I promise to be a gentleman and not to make it awkward. Just one date.” I stared down at her, willing her to say yes.

She swallowed, and her gaze drifted to my left ear, not able to maintain contact with my eyes. “I’m sorry, Finn. I do think you’re great—I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I stepped away. Now I was the one turning red.

I stuffed my hands back in my pockets. “No big deal. I get it—it’s hard to get over the whole shark attack part of our history.

I’ve got more ground to make up.” I winked because I wasn’t sure what else to do right then.

I felt like the floor beneath me had suddenly—not quite disappeared, exactly, but gotten really unsteady.