“Yep.” Duncan followed Tory into the store.
“Their hair and eye color are different, but otherwise, Gianna looks a lot like her mom.”
“Everybody says that. Gianna has the same eye color as Uncle Corey, my dad, and our grandmother.”
“Explains why yours are almost identical.”
Surprised she'd noticed, he nodded as Hazel, the owner's daughter, walked toward them. She wore a white-and-black dress that reminded him of a chessboard, except in this case, the squares varied in size, and it hurt his eyes to look at her, so instead, he focused on her neon pink headband.
“Good afternoon. Are you looking for anything specific today?” Hazel asked, putting a temporary halt to their conversation.
“I'd like to see the aquamarine set in the window.”
“Certainly. That’s one of our newest pieces.”
Although he didn't plan to buy anything, he checked out the jewelry in the display case closest to him while Tory and Hazel spoke. The various gemstones twinkled under the ceiling lights, but one particular ring caught his attention. The stone was like none he'd ever seen. A combination of golden brown and mossy green, the gemstone reminded him of Tory's eyes. Eyes he'd spent far too much time thinking about over the last few days.
Today her eyes appeared more forest green than brown. But the day they went to the winery, the color reminded him of the chestnuts his grandparents always had on hand during the holidays.The ones he only ever saw his grandfather eat.
Tory's eyes weren't the only thing Duncan thought about more than he should, including their relationship. He'd agreed to help Tory because helping people was something he liked to do, not because he hoped it would lead to more than friendship. But, unfortunately, the more time he spent with her, the more his thoughts moved away from friendship and to something more.
When they were together, awkward silences never occurred, and no topics were ever off limits. They'd even discussed politics, a subject he avoided like the plague with most people. Although he hadn't expected it, they had a lot in common, including covering their french fries in salt and vinegar rather than ketchup. However, they disagreed on what to do if salt and vinegar weren't available. Tory insisted using ranch dressing was an acceptable alternative. Duncan preferred to go with mustard. But hey, no one was perfect.
More importantly, he enjoyed her company in a way he hadn't enjoyed being with anyone in longer than he wanted to admit. Even the night they watched old black-and-white television shows after dinner, he'd enjoyed himself and had been in no rush to get home. He liked how she teased him and listened when he spoke rather than just nodding in agreement, something he'd found more than one date doing. He wasn't proud of it, but he'd done the same thing a few times when his dates started talking nonstop about themselves or fashion. He didn't understand how anyone could care so much about fashion.
If Tory had never asked for his help, he'd consider steering them toward something more than friendship and see what happened. But she had asked.
Just because Tory had ended her last relationship didn't mean she was looking to get involved with someone else. Some people preferred to be single and just go on casual dates rather than sit at home alone every Saturday night. And if Tory were in the market for a relationship, she'd shown no signs that she wanted more from him than friendship. Hell, she might not even want that from him. Everything that had transpired between them so far might be like a dress rehearsal for the following week.
He'd been burned in relationships by women who either wanted or needed something from him. Already he knew Tory wanted something from him. After he fulfilled his end of the bargain, an elevator ride down to the lobby might be the most time they ever spent together again.
In the long run, it might be a mistake, but for now, he'd leave the ball in her corner.
* * *
“Whoever ownsFurever Friends should look into opening one in Boston. It would do fantastic, I think. There are so many pet owners in the city. I can see a lot of them wanting to stop and have a snack with their dog while out for a walk. Or picking up a special treat for them on their way home from work. If I owned a dog, I would.”
Owned by two sisters, Furever Friends Café and Bakery wasn't the only café on the island. But since it opened five years ago, it had become one of the most popular ones, especially for those who had four-legged friends at home. The establishment was not only pet friendly, but it sold a wide variety of baked goods and drinks prepared for customers with tails and paws and those without any. And when you went inside, you almost always found both human and canine customers enjoying something. This afternoon, it'd been one of their last stops before returning to his house.
“I'm surprised someone hasn't already opened something similar,” Tory said.
Confident the fire wouldn't go out, Duncan stood and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “I agree with you. But owning a business in Boston is an entirely different beast from running one here. I'm not sure Melody and Stacey would want to deal with it.”
The previous owners had done little to the cottage itself while they owned it. However, they had installed a fabulous patio with a firepit built into the center and a covered grill area just off the house. The weather tonight cried out for an outside fire. And since the old owners had included the five-piece outdoor sofa set in the sale, they had a place to sit while enjoying it.
“Boston is a unique place, that's for sure. New York City isn't perfect, but it's at least easy to find your way around. Boston, forget it. It's like whoever laid out the roads wanted people to get lost.”
He'd noticed the same thing when he first moved to Boston for college. Now, he didn't think much about it anymore.
“And no one looks before they cross the street. They just step off the sidewalk and expect the cars to stop. If you honk the horn, people either walk slower to annoy you or flip you the bird,” Tory continued.
Duncan considered his many seating options. He could sit across from her with the fire pit between them. Or he could opt for a closer spot and see what happened.
His body decided before his conscience did, and he lowered himself down next to her.
“Do you wish you'd stayed in California?” Life was all about choices. Sometimes you regretted the ones you made, and other times you celebrated them. He'd done his fair share of both over the years.
Tory didn't hesitate to answer. “No. Moving to Boston was the best decision I've made in a long time. And I didn't mean to make it sound as if I hate Boston. There are a lot of things I love about it, including the food in the North End. And there is so much history there. But driving isn't one of them.”