Page 65 of Hang the Moon
Annie glared. “It’s nothing.”
“We’ll see.” Darcy turned. “Hey, Brendon. Annie brought you something.”
“I hate you,” she hissed, trying to keep from blushing through sheer force of will. “I hate you so much.”
Brendon appeared around the corner, wearing a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone, revealing the all-too-lickable-looking hollow of his throat.
“Hey.” His grin bordered on boyish, the crinkle of his eyes achingly earnest as he stared at her. “Glad you could make it.”
Annie cleared her throat and wiped her palm against the side of her leg. Her hands had gone stupidly clammy. “Wasn’t about to miss game night when I’d heard so much about it.”
Brendon crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Darcy told you things tend to get... intense?”
“I think the word she used wasvicious. Not that I need a warning.”
She’d witnessed enough flipped Monopoly boards to know how Brendon and Darcy could get when there were bragging rights at stake.
He gave another one of those easygoing smiles that brought out the dimples in his cheeks and made her knees weak. “Darcy said you brought me something?”
“Yeah, Annie. Why don’t you show Brendon what you got him.” Darcy smiled at her, all faux innocence. “I’m going to refresh my drink. Want me to grab you something?”
“Wine. Please. Or, on second thought, water. I haven’t eaten anything.”
Brendon reached inside his back pocket, withdrawing his phone. “I ordered a bunch of takeout. It should be here in about half an hour.”
Darcy raised an eyebrow.
Annie caved. “Fine. Wine.”
Darcy disappeared around the corner. Brendon looked at Annie expectantly.
Right. His present.
She cleared her throat and brought the plastic bag around to her front, fiddling with the straps. “It’s just something I saw. And I—I thought of you.”
His lips twitched as he stepped closer, close enough that he could reach inside the bag himself, if he wanted. Mostly closeenough that she could smell his aftershave, even over the sharp smell of incense. “Don’t leave me in suspense, Annie.”
Her laugh came out breathless. “Says the guy who always refuses to tell me where he’s taking me.”
“Don’t try to tell me you don’t like surprises,” he teased, stepping closer, resting his hand on top of hers. “Am I supposed to guess what’s in the bag?”
“You can try.” Her pulse pounded in her neck, her heart hammering away, some combination of nerves and proximity to Brendon making her dizzy.
“Hmm.” Brendon’s lips pulled to the side, eyes narrowing playfully. “Does it have something to do with somewhere we’ve been in the last few days?”
She mulled it over. “Yes and no.”
He laughed. “Okay. I’m throwing in the towel.” His thumb raked across the inside of her wrist as he loosened her grip on the bag. “Can I see?”
With a deep breath to brace herself, she let him take the bag. He delved inside, eyes staring up at the ceiling, stretching out the anticipation. Her eyes remained locked on his face as he finally lowered his gaze to the thick, bound script in his hands. His jaw dropped, his brown eyes doubling in size.
“Annie.” The way he breathed her name put all the other times anyone had ever said her name to shame. It sounded different the way he uttered it, turning it into a form of praise that somehow rooted her to the spot and made her want to run, all at the same time. He lifted his eyes, and the intensity of them about bowled her over. “This is...”
She dropped her eyes to the scant space between them. “I just thought, you love romantic comedies and Nora Ephron and it was on the shelf, so—”
“I love it.”
Her head snapped up. For a moment, she completely forgot how to suck air into her lungs when he looked at her, the weight of his stare a heavy, tangible thing ensnaring her. “This is the greatest present anyone’s ever gotten me.”
