Page 29 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

One Date

Lucy

Lucy: I need to confess that I ignored almost everyone’s advice. I said yes to a date with Finn.

Dani: You’re living your own enemies-to-lovers story!

I bit my lip to keep the goofy smile at bay as I watched all their responses come in, my hands still a little shaky from the encounter outside with the dog.

The dog, I told myself firmly. Not the almost-kiss with the man I’d spent my formative years hating.

Which was part of what made Dani’s response so funny, because from the outside, yes, we’d gone from nemeses to this, and it would be hard to see where that shift happened.

But from my side, we’d probably only had maybe a day where I’d been at odds with him.

Bygones had pretty quickly been bygones, and I wasn’t about to hold the actions of his thirteen-year-old self against his twenty-four-year-old self, but it was still hard to see where we’d turned the corner into possible romance.

And what did it even mean? I’d said yes to a date, sure, but all the other concerns didn’t just disappear. The man lived in another COUNTRY. Were we just going to gloss over that fact?

Was I getting ahead of myself, though? It was one date. Before this trip, I’d gone on first dates a ton. Setups. Dating app matches. People I met through work. I didn’t say no to first dates.

I did, ho wever, say no to the second ones. I wasn’t looking for a repeat of Michael. Or to mimic my mother.

So why, in my head, did I already expect there’d be a second date?

Time to put on the brakes. One date. I could enjoy one date—even if I did feel a little guilty to be going on it when I was on a work trip.

But Gary, my competition, had brought his wife to England. Surely, I could go on a date.

Still, just thinking about it was causing this tight feeling to claw its way from my chest up into my throat. Someone needed to tell my nervous system this was just a date.

I was pretty useless the last hour before Finn was supposed to get me. I’d settled the Jenkins’ family vacation mishaps and checked in with Ellie about finalizing details for a handful of clients. Finn had taken the Hastings on an afternoon outing, but I’d opted to stay back and work.

Partly because I didn’t think I’d take in much information on a tour if I was spending the whole time fielding we’re going on a date later looks from Finn, and keeping my own nervous system in check.

Finally, a half hour before five, I got up from the bed and changed from my shorts to linen pants and a breezy top—the best clothes I’d brought—fixed my mascara and brushed my hair.

My mom had texted with more wedding-related details.

Napkins and cake options. I shot off a quick text with a smiley face and “All sounds great!” then silenced my phone so I wouldn’t know if she responded. My worries were high enough tonight.

I went downstairs instead of waiting in my room for him to come up, which might have led to running into all sorts of B&B guests and having to explain where we were going. I could just see Finn taking the opportunity to tell everyone I’d been begging him for a date, and he’d finally given in.

The thoug ht actually brought a smile to my face. I loved that he didn’t take things too seriously. Loved that he always made me laugh—sometimes in the most unconventional of ways.

“Is that an ‘I’m excited to go out with you’ smile or something more sinister? Should I be concerned that I’m going to end up on an episode of Dateline ?”

Finn was sitting at the check-in counter, leaning forward onto his forearms. He was in a light blue button-up, and my eyes swept across it, thinking of that morning and his all-too-impressive shirtless physique. I yanked my gaze up. “Is that show still going?”

“No idea.” He rounded the counter, holding out a hand. I took it. Was this something we did now? Held hands. It was the second time, if anyone was keeping count.

I liked it. But I couldn’t help overanalyzing it.

There was a quiet buzzing around us as we walked out of the B&B and toward the van.

It seemed to fill the space between us with electricity.

So many times over the last week and a half, we’d done exactly this: walked across the gravel drive in the warm sun to the oversized van. But this time was different.

As usual, he opened the door for me, waited till I was in, then went around the car.

I pressed a hand to my chest before he climbed in. Stop. Stop it right now . A single date was not a reason to go into cardiac arrest.

He got in, smiling over at me as he put his buckle on. “Please stop looking like I’m about to drive you into the woods and bury you beneath my favorite tree.”

I pressed my lips together. “You have a favorite tree?”

“Yes. I’ll show it to you right before I put you six feet under.”

“Perfect, at least I will get out of giving this presentation.”

He put the car into gear, glancing in the mirror before backing out of the drive. “Tell me about that. Where are you at with your proposal? Who are you up against?”

He’d pi cked the perfect topic. For ten minutes, we went back and forth, talking about my job and goals for my time at the company.

I tried to turn it onto him and his future plans a time or two, but he always returned the topic to me.

And since it had been weighing so heavily on my mind this trip, I was pretty happy to share and talk through some of the things I hadn’t had a chance or a person to discuss with.

“Have you thought about what you’ll do if you don’t get the job?”

I thought about making a joke about how he had such little faith in me, but I couldn’t, because I knew it wasn’t true. He was probably actually interested in my answer. He always seemed interested in what I had to say.

“I don’t know,” I said, truthfully. “If I’m not offered upward momentum soon, either through this position or some other avenue, I’m not sure I can stay there. It’s a great job, but it’s been pretty stagnant in the three years I’ve been there.”

He turned into the parking lot, and before he had a chance to respond, I looked through the windshield, leaning forward to see the entirety of the building. “Where are we?”

“Dinner.” He put the car in park, smiling innocently at me as if he knew how frustrating his lame half-answer was. But instead of elaborating, he just got out of the car and circled the vehicle, opening the door for me.

I paused before getting out. I’d swung my feet around and faced him, but didn’t stand up.

He leaned into his hand, holding the top of the door. “Second thoughts?”

I shook my head.

“You hesitated,” he said. He didn’t seem mad, but he also wasn’t his usual teasing self. “Hey, if I pressured you into this…”

I jumped out of the car, the guilt getting to me at the look in his eyes.

Because, honestly, I really wanted to be here.

I was excited for this date in a way I h adn’t been for any date in a long time.

I was just nervous to be that excited, and that was a hard thing to put into words, so instead I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the building.

It was a whitewashed cottage-type home that seemed to have been converted to a business. A metal sign stuck into the yard read “Lasting Moments Photography.”

I stopped, and in another step, Finn was beside me, watching me with amusement. I pointed at the sign. “That’s not dinner.”

His smile appeared. “It is. Trust me.”

“There’s a closed sign in the window.”

“Ignore it.”

This time, I let him pull me forward. If we were going to be arrested for trespassing, I’d like to be able to say “he dragged me in.”

The lights were on inside, and quiet music was playing.

“Hey, Trish!” Finn called, looking around the corner of the little entryway we were in.

I felt an unreasonable flash of jealousy when the petite brunette came in.

Her hair was short and super curly, and she was also super adorable.

Her smile was wide, and even her teeth were white—the kind of white that I never seemed able to achieve with Whitestrips at home, no matter how sensitive they made my gums.

“Finn!” She spread her arms wide as she walked into the entry, but not for a hug, more just like a you’re here!

She didn’t seem surprised to see us, and I thought back to the photography sign in the yard. So help me… If he had just roped me into some awkward photoshoot, I was walking out.

Her smile included me, and curiosity but not animosity was sparkling in her eyes while her gaze swept me from head to toe. She looked back to Finn, her smile growing. “The back studio is open.” She crossed her arms and tilted her head to the rear of the house.

“Thanks so much.” Finn looked down on me, smiling as he squeezed my hand and tugged on it. “Come on.”

Trish went back to whatever she’d been doing as Finn led me the other direction, down a softly lit, wood-clad hall, through a door, and—

“What did you do?” I glanced from the table in the center of the room to Finn. He was holding back a smile pretty unsuccessfully.

“You claimed not to like any of the food options I presented… so I didn’t know where we should go.”

“So, you… what?” I walked into the room that appeared to be an unused studio with white walls, a warm wood floor, and several photography props lining the back wall. A round table with a tablecloth and a dozen to-go boxes was in the middle. “Burglarized half the restaurants in the city?”

“Pretty much. Minus the stealing.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Too much?” he asked. “You look a little horrified.”