At the airport, Darcy had bought a bag of fanciful building blocks cut from slender tree limbs for Twink, but now she was sorry she hadn’t brought George a present too. “I had a really good time in Paris,” she confided truthfully. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for the jet set.”
“Why not? I’ll bet Griffin travels first class.”
“Yes, he sure does, but plane travel is still awfully wearing. Now I’ve got to get busy on the landscaping for the Peavey wedding. Can you handle everything out here?”
“Sure, we’ve been doing just fine. Christy Joy will tell you we had a good weekend.”
Darcy waved to him and went on inside. Both Christy Joy and Mary Beth were standing at the counter and gaped in surprise. “We didn’t expect you to come home so soon!” Christy Joy cried.
“Griffin had only a quick trip planned,” Darcy hedged. “But a person could spend years in Paris and not see it all.”
Christy Joy was still admiring her beautiful engagement ring, and she turned her hand into a ray of sunshine to catch the sparkle. “Are things heating up between you two?”
Darcy refused to admit they’d heated up to scalding only to cool down to an Arctic chill. “Let’s not even go there,” she replied. “I’ve a present for Twink. Did she get home all right?”
“Yes, but she’s already at school.” Christy took the bag of unusual blocks and peeked inside. “Aren’t these clever. Twink will love them. Thank you for thinking of her.”
“I thought about you all, but unfortunately, we left before I had time to shop for more presents.”
Mary Beth laughed. “I didn’t expect a Dior gown, but it’s nice to have you home. Let me show you the figures for the weekend.”
Darcy feigned an interest she didn’t feel, but she was pleased their profits were up since the storm. She kept busy all day, but as George got ready to leave, she walked him to the gate.
“If someone asked for a few days,” she began, “how many would you assume that would be?”
George tucked in his shirt and adjusted his hat. “Are we talking about one of your clients, or Griffin Moore?”
“What difference does it make?”
George chuckled and rested his hand on the gate. “Griffin, then. He’d probably consider a few more than a couple, but less than a week. Is that any help?”
“Yes, thank you. That’s what I figured too.”
“I wouldn’t worry, he always turns up,” George advised.
“Thanks.” She understood how men needed their space, but as she locked up for the night, she still felt uneasy. Griffin definitely had a dark side, but she doubted he’d slide into it so deep that he couldn’t climb out. Still, regardless of his inner turmoil, she couldn’t spend half the week terrified she’d lost him.
Then she remembered their conversation about leaving post-it notes on his bench. The days were lengthening, and if she hurried, she’d be able to plaster the bench with love notes without invading his privacy. Or at least that was how she saw it. She grabbed a pack of yellow notes and, with a flower pen tucked in her bib pocket, she set out for Ridgecrest.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t counted on the wrought-iron gate being closed. Unwilling to allow such a minor detail to ruin her plans, she parked on the street. She checked for traffic, found none, and then used the gate’s coiling floral design for footholds. She quickly pulled herself up and over and then sprinted past the bubbling mermaid fountain.
When she rounded the side of the house, she heard Griffin playing the same series of notes over and over again as though the sequence weren’t quite right. Whatever his problem, it was a pretty tune rather than some wretched dirge. Encouraged, she skirted the terrace and crossed the Zen garden.
Her first note simply said she loved him. After slapping it on the bench, she added one to praise the passion he poured into his music. She also loved the sparkle in his dark eyes when he teased her, as well as the gentleness of his touch. She loved his smile, and the confident way he moved. She loved how he listened to her so attentively and remembered everything she said. She loved that he took her seriously. She loved his intelligence and how handsome he looked in a tux.
She wrote I love you a couple more times and added them to the flurry now adorning the bench. With the light rapidly fading, she dashed back around to the front of the house rather than let him catch her writing sappy love notes in the dark. If the audacious stunt worked as she hoped, he ought to be inspired to drive right down the hill to her house.
If it didn’t, she sure didn’t want to be home alone waiting for a call that would never come. So, she sat on the fountain wall, trailed her fingers in the water and waited. Now that it was too late to remove the notes, she was afraid they would all sound impossibly silly, but damn it all, every single one had been sincere. She really did love him, and it was high time she got out of her own way and stopped sabotaging their future.
Griffin had kept his eye on the angle of the sun and, eager for the serenity of the sunset, he left the new melody unfinished and went out to the Zen garden. At first, he thought the wind must have littered the bench with scraps, but then he recognized the small yellow squares for what they were. He laughed as he peeled them off and read them in the gathering dusk.
He hadn’t shaved that morning, nor combed his hair, but on the off-chance Darcy might be waiting in her truck, he didn’t want to waste any time cleaning up. He jogged down the driveway, and when he found her at the fountain, he looked down at the handful of notes.
It was the first time she’d ever seen him at a loss for words, but she still had a few. She got up and walked to him. “I didn’t plan on hanging around, but when you finish sorting out everything, I don’t want to end up being something you’ve sorted out.”
“Oh, Darcy, you’re an absolute treasure.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “Come on, let’s catch the sunset.”
Certain being regarded as a treasure was a promising sign, she fell in step beside him. He was dressed in his gray sweats and looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed, but being with him always tugged at her heart.