Page 3 of The Dangers of Daydreaming (Love Connections #2)

Surprises Suck

Finn

I tossed the keys into the air, grabbing them again as I used my back to push out the bakery door.

Tour pick-up days weren’t my favorite. There was an air of awkwardness, tons of opportunity for delay, and frankly, it was monotonous.

But pickup days always led to tour weeks, and after a long winter and slow spring full of working on my own or with Pops on minor fixes around the farm, I was even looking forward to a day like this.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, maneuvering the fifteen-seater sprinter van onto the main road that took me to the airport, Nirvana started playing on the radio. I reached to turn it up, but my phone kicked into the speaker at that moment, cutting off the song and instead playing my ringtone.

“Hey, Gram,” I said, picking up the phone.

She was probably going to berate me for skipping breakfast. But I liked to grab donuts for the tour group on pick-up days, and figured I’d take some sleeping-in and a donut over walking across the farm to the inn to have one of Gram’s famous pancake breakfasts.

I know, it sounded stupid to me, too.

“Hey, hun.”

I sat a little straighter, glancing down at the phone with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Pops fell this morning. I—”

My hands gripped the steering wheel. “Is he okay?”

“The paramedics think he broke his hip.” Her voice was shaky. I looked at the clock—could I get back in time to help?

“Are you in an ambulance?”

“I’m following behind, I—”

“You should have told me.” I didn’t mean to sound accusatory, but the concern for my grandpa made the words come out harsh and clipped. “I could have driven you.” Gram shouldn’t be driving in this state; she was probably out of her mind with worry.

“I know, Finn, but it all happened so fast. Mr. Steel was there having coffee when James fell, and he called the ambulance for me. You have the group and—oh, here’s the hospital. I need to find parking; I’ll call you when I know more. Or, why don’t you call me? I know you’re getting the group and—”

She sounded harried. Talking too fast and leaving half the syllables off her words. I cut in, trying to be the voice of calm I knew she’d need, even if I didn’t feel halfway to calm myself. “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got the group settled in. Don’t worry about me, just focus on you and Pops.”

“Okay. Okay, Finn, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

And without even waiting for me to reciprocate the love, she hung up.

I stared at the taillights of the car in front of me. Pops wasn’t that old. In his seventies. He was driving a skid steer yesterday. But broke a hip today?

No. They didn’t know if he had broken his hip yet. No use worrying about something that hadn’t even been confirmed.

I rubbed my lips together. Despite how logical my brain was being, the worry stayed there, making itself at home in my gut, and I clenched the steering wheel tighter, not allowing myself to think about what this could mean for Pops and for the coming weeks.

I didn’t like planning ahead like that. It was pointless and usually set me up for disappointment.

What I needed to do was get back to thinking about the group starting today.

Something I had some control over. An extended family, which was a little rare.

Usually, we got school groups or a compilation of adults who’d all booked through some travel agency.

But this was two grandparents from the States who’d decided that what their family reunion needed was two weeks of touring Prince Edward Island.

There was a bet going on at the farm—whether it was the grandma or somebody else who was obsessed with Anne of Green Gables .

Someone always was. Prince Edward Island had a lot to recommend, but the vast majority of tourists were pulled in by all the Anne-related sites they could visit.

I shoved thoughts of Pops to the back of my mind. I’d focus on them when I could actually do something about it.

I held the sign that neatly read “Hastings Reunion” as I waited by baggage claim.

There was another tour leader in the crowd that I recognized, and I nodded at him.

His mouth lifted in return. Prince Edward Island was not a huge place.

I’d moved from Utah when I was fourteen, and PEI was a fraction of the size of that state, comparable to two or three counties, but our tourism was rampant, especially beginning in June.

Still, there weren’t many tour companies in the area.

Tours to go on, yes. But companies that would take you to several during the course of your stay, no.

So, I knew basically everyone who worked in the industry.

There was a healthy amount of competition between us all, too.

I’d eye Steven’s group when they came in, just as I’m sure he’d be eyeing mine.

A little figurative trophy would go to whoever had the larger group .

It was a toss-up who might win today. My group wasn’t massive—just seven adults and two children—but it wasn’t July yet, so smaller groups were pretty common.

Several people came down the escalator in front of me.

My eyes scanned the travelers, though I didn’t know what anyone looked like in my group.

Red hair caught my attention, and while I couldn’t see much of her features as her head was on a swivel, taking in the room, something about her seemed familiar.

That was common around here, too, though I would have thought I’d remember hair like that.

An elderly woman, close in age to my grandparents, blocked the redhead from my sight. Her deep-set eyes locked onto my sign, and within seconds, she was bustling towards me, pulling a tall man behind her.

I smiled, relaxing into a more welcoming stance as she beamed up at me. Her face had so many lines that her eyes nearly disappeared into their folds with that smile.

“I believe you are looking for us, sweetheart.”

She could only be around four and a half feet. “Mrs. Hastings, I presume?”

“Oh, call me Gemma.”

“And I’m Finn.” I tucked the sign under my arm, reaching out my hand to shake hers. “I wish they’d warned me you were this charming—I would have worn my fancier socks.”

She laughed at that and gestured to the man who’d just stepped up beside her.

As tall as she was short, but just as willowy and with as many wrinkles.

“This is Hank. And…” she looked around, “the rest of them are around here somewhere.” She pursed her lips, but even that appeared more amused than annoyed.

I nodded, still smiling. “Take your time rounding everyone up and getting your luggage. I’ll wait just over there.” I pointed to the chairs beside the rental car counter .

“Absolute perfection, thank you, Finn.”

I almost expected her to pat my cheek, but she just toddled off, pulling the man—Hank— with her again. He gave me a salute as he was dragged away. I returned it with a grin. If the rest of the family were anything like the parents, they would be a fun group.

Duty done for the moment, I sauntered to the rental car station, my stomach growling. The donuts were on the van's front seat, and I probably shouldn’t have skipped breakfast at Gram’s—had they even had breakfast? Or had Pops fallen before—

My stomach churned with a different feeling entirely, and I pushed those thoughts aside.

As I sat, I vaguely noticed that the red-haired woman was at the rental counter. Bummer that she wasn’t in my group for the week. I was not against a little flirting on the job. Had she ended up in another tour group? Did she live in the area?

I couldn’t keep my gaze from darting over to her as I slouched into the metal chair, waiting for her to turn so I could get a full look at her face.

An email notification made my phone ping, and I pulled it out, opening the app and skimming the messages.

A handful in my company email confirmed different tours and entrance fees we’d booked for the next week and a half.

But the latest was from my college: an alumni email.

That made me snort with entertainment. I quickly swiped it into the trash, not even reading the subject.

“Um, maybe it’s under a different name… try, sorry, one sec…”

The red-haired woman was riffling through her carry-on for something. I would have remembered her if we’d met before, but somehow she seemed like a piece of deja vu in a person. My brow furrowed. Where could I possibly know her from?

“No, sorry, I don’t see anyone under that name,” the rental worker was saying now. I knew him. Simon. Good guy .

The woman blew out a frustrated breath, tapping away on her phone, then holding it to her ear.

“I swear I saw a confirmation number somewhere, but now I can’t even find the email, and— Dang it.

She didn’t answer.” She lowered the phone.

Then, in a voice full of resignation, she said. “What's the cost to rent a car?”

Simon looked something up on his computer. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any more in the size you’re looking for. We’ll have some returns tomorrow, or we can get you a larger size.”

“Okay. Um…” She looked around, eyes catching on mine for a moment as she scanned the area.

I shifted my attention back to the luggage carousel, so she wouldn’t think I’d been staring.

I had been, but that would come across as pretty creepy.

Bags started to unload onto the metal loop, and I watched as Mrs. Hastings—Gemma—grabbed a toddler who was trying to climb onto the moving machine.

I chuckled at the little guy’s annoyed expression and swinging legs.

Apparently, Gemma was pretty strong for such a little lady.

“Where would I go to find out if my hotel has a shuttle?” I heard the woman ask Simon. “Maybe I’ll just take a shuttle and figure out the rental car situation tomorrow or Monday.”

“Do you know who you’re booked with?”

“The Holiday Inn.”

“Awesome, they’re right over there.”

“Thanks.” She passed in front of me, going to the counter on my right side, about six seats down. I watched her go, looking creepy again, I’m sure. She almost looked like… But no, that would be too big a coincidence.

My phone pinged with a notification. Gram? My heart lurched with the anticipation of news.

But it was another email from the university.

Jeez, two in one day? I swiped it away .

“No, that can’t be possible—this hotel is right here on my travel itinerary.”

“I’m so sorry, Miss, but we don’t have you down as being booked with us. We don’t have any vacancies for tonight, but I could direct you to another hotel?”

“No… no, it’s fine, I’m going to try to get ahold of my work.

Maybe it’s somehow under another name or—” The redhead blew out another frustrated breath.

I grimaced on her behalf. Sounds like whomever set up her travel plans had screwed up big time.

That wasn’t a huge surprise—plans never seemed to work out perfectly.

Maybe I could help… I knew the inn wasn’t fully booked tonight.

I saw from the corner of my eye as she left the counter, walking slowly toward the luggage pickup.

The toddler from before was sneaking around the luggage carousel.

My gaze flicked back to Gemma. No one in the Hastings group seemed to have seen him playing jailbreak, so I stood, preparing to be a human roadblock if he tried to run out the doors into the busy pickup lane outside.

Eyes on the kid, I sidestepped my way closer to the exit.

And then the little guy bolted. But instead of heading toward the exit like I’d thought he would, he ran for the escalators they’d come down ten minutes before.

And at that exact moment, the redhead stepped into his fleeing path.

The boy collided with her carry-on, sending it skidding backwards, him on top like it was a surfboard and he was its rider.

The collision grabbed the attention of the Hastings family and several of them rushed forward, surrounding the boy and woman. I made my way toward them to see that everyone was alright.

A lady, presumably the boy’s mom, had scooped him up and was holding him while he attempted to squirm from her arms. “Luke! That’s very dangerous, you need to stay by Mom or Grandma—say sorry to the nice lady. No, hey, stop kicking, just— ”

I wanted to help but wasn’t sure how, so I just shoved my hands in my pockets, standing on the outskirts of the group in case anyone needed me.

Gemma was picking up the redhead’s bag. “I am so sorry, Miss—”

“Sinclair,” the woman said.

My head jerked up. My eyes narrowed at the redhead. No way. Sinclair had to be a common last name. It probably wasn’t—

“Lucy Sinclair,” she finished. My eyes raked across her face while she chatted with the Hastings. There was no way that Lucy Sinclair from my small, Utah junior high was standing in front of me right now on Prince Edward Island. Absolutely no way.

But now that I looked, I saw it. Her hair had darkened but was still red, her face shape had slimmed out as happens when people age, and she… well, she’d grown up. This was not the spindly, nerdy girl that I used to tease at school; this was…

Her eyes landed on mine. Not a single ounce of recognition lit her gaze. I’d like to think that because I had grown so handsome as I aged, I was nearly unrecognizable as the gangly, spotty kid of thirteen.

But it might have just been because I didn’t hold such an important place in her past as she did mine. I hadn’t thought about her in years, but it’s not like you ever completely forget your first real crush. And I had crushed hard on Lucy Sinclair.

My lips quirked up, thinking of her predicament I’d overheard and of my need for distraction in the wake of things going on with Pops. We might just be able to help each other out here…

I suddenly realized that the Hastings had retreated to the luggage carousel, leaving me standing in awkward silence with Lucy Sinclair.

I shook my head. What were the chances?

Her brow was creased and her eyes were narrowed. I saw myself as she must see me: grinning like a maniac, likely having some internal conversation with myself, and staring at her.

No wonder she was slowly backing away. I bet I looked like a wild dog, erratic and dangerous.