Page 32 of Back to You
Chapter 11
Aweek or so later, there was a knock on the door during breakfast. Grandma Gin looked up from her nearly-burnt toast slathered with thick orange marmalade. She made a face, pushing her glasses up a little higher on her nose. “Wonder who that could be.”
Before she could rise, I patted her shoulder. “I’ve got it,” I said, unable to suppress my smile. I knew exactly who it was. My heart danced a happy little beat when I opened the door to see Dane standing there in a pair of well-worn jeans and a hoodie with a giant red@logo on the front. He had a bouquet of rainbow carnations clutched in one hand, and three small boxes tucked under his other arm.
“For you, my darling,” he said, complete with cheesy smile as he handed me the flowers.
“Thank you, but what’s the occasion?”
Dane rolled his eyes. “Duh. It’s Valentine’s Day. Can I come in?”
He got me flowers for Valentine’s Day? Wow. Gone were the days of secret admirers and goofy cartoon valentines signed with an exaggerated kiss-mark.XOXO. I felt like a kid with a crush all over again. This was seriously real life. Dane Fisher had bought me flowers. Ever the romantic…and I liked it.
“Wow. Yeah, awesome, you’re just in time for breakfast.”
He laughed. “I know. I brought that too. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Gran, we’ve got company,” I called. “Coffee?”
“Sure. Extra cream?”
“Some things never change.” I poured him a cup. He’d always liked his coffee pale and sweet. Just like him. I slid the mug over to him and took my seat next to Grandma Gin. Dane sat down across from me. Our legs bumped beneath the table. “Dane’s here for breakfast.”
“AndI brought gifts. For the lovely lady,” Dane announced, handing Grandma Gin a small box with a rose-red ribbon. She eyed him like one might eye a stranger offering candy, then peeked inside. Four rows of decadent Belgium chocolates sat nestled in pink and purple paper. “Hollister said you liked your chocolate dark.”
“It looks wonderful, but I’m not the one you need to impress.”
“Oh, I know.” He winked and my face went up in flames. “I brought donuts, if you’re hungry? It was on my way.”
He opened the biggest box to reveal six heart-shaped jelly donuts with rich buttercream frosting. I snagged one and dunked it in my coffee, then took a big bite, but my attention kept drifting to the third and final box sitting on the edge of the table. It was small, wrapped in charcoal and red paper and tied with a thick satin ribbon the color of blood.
“What’s in the box?” Curiosity killed the cat, after all.
“It’s a surprise,” Dane replied breezily, flashing me a too-innocent smile. I knew that smile. He was up to something. “You can’t open it yet. First, I’m taking you out for lunch.”
“First breakfast, now lunch? Careful, I’m getting spoiled.”
Custard picked that moment to jump onto the table and stick his head in the donut box. Grandma Gin cursed and waved her napkin at him.
“Go on, you mangy thing, get down!” Custard pinned her with an almost bored look—like, “Is that all you’ve got, old woman?”—then licked the icing off Dane’s finger. Gran scowled. “Watch that cat. He’ll take the donut right off your plate. Food thief, that one. Just the other day, he stole an entire roaster chicken off the counter. Bah!”
“Sorry, pal,” Dane apologized. He scooped Custard up and placed him on the floor. “I don’t make the rules around here.” The cat grumbled before sauntering off into the living room with a flick of his kinked tail.
We hung out in the kitchen while Grandma Gin chattered away about her good friend Wanda’s eightieth birthday coming up. Dane listened with both elbows resting on the table, but Gran was too intent on her story to chide him over it. While she rambled on, I excused myself to get ready for our lunch date.
Freshly showered and wearing nothing but a terrycloth towel tied around my waist, I hummed to myself while I browsed my dresser drawers for something to wear. A throat cleared behind me. I spun around to see Dane lounging against the door, looking pleased as punch. “You don’t have to wear anything fancy. You’re gonna be naked before I’m done with you.”
“You’re pretty cocky. Were you always this cocky?”
“You like it.”
I grinned. “I do. It’s kind of hot. What do you have up your sleeve? I know you’re plotting something, I just don’t know what yet.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Bull, I knowyou. I know that self-satisfied little smirk you’re wearing, and it’s telling me you’re up to no good. No good, Mr. Fisher.”
“You’ll see,” he sang. “Good things come to those who wait, but I guarantee that you’ll like it. First I was thinking paninis? That little cafe-bistro on Market hasthebest tomato bisque. Hands down. Even better than Mom’s.”
