“I hope you’re right. Just... be careful with your heart, okay? And if he does anything shady or you wake up one morning to find he’s stolen everything you own, call me and I’ll be on the first plane back to Boston to find him and kick his butt.”
Zara had always been feisty, had always stood up for herself. Daisy wished she was more like her friend instead of always going with the flow. While Zara went long stretches without dating anyone, Daisy always needed to have a boyfriend, flitting from one to the next. It was safe to say, Taylor Swift ended up on repeat a lot.
“I will, I promise. Now tell me more about the new job and the amazing apartment you found...”
As she listened to Zara chatter on about Philadelphia and her new place, Daisy’s mind drifted back to Callan and how he’d made her feel while they were touring the USS Constitution yesterday.
A nagging sense that they weren’t meshing stuck with her as they’d played tourist in the city. She’d be telling him some interesting fact, and then find him watching tourists taking selfies or watching a motorcycle drive by. It was frustrating the way he acted like he’d never seen a phone or car before. It was like he was there beside her, seeing all the places they visited, but not really experiencing them with her, lost in his own world.
Sunlight filled the small kitchen as Daisy bustled about, Taylor’s latest album playing softly in the background. But despite the sunny day, she was still obsessing about yesterday. Before she mixed up the pancakes, she washed her hands with the most adorable soap she’d purchased online. It was in the shape of a teacup to celebrate Taylor’s new album, and the best thing? The entire cute teacup was made of soap. It smelled amazing as she washed her hands and put it back on the sink in the soap dish. As a backup, she had another one still in its wrapper, hidden away to send to Zara when she was settled into her new place. As she flipped a pancake in the cast-iron skillet, she heard the front door close.
“Lass? We have returned.” Frankie bounded into the kitchen, sniffing, circling her legs. With a laugh, she tossed him a piece of bacon then pushed the plate further back on the counter so Frankie wouldn’t stand up on his hind legs and steal it. He’d done it before. Several times.
Daisy wiped her hands on a towel, bracing herself. She wasn’t sure how to act around Callan after yesterday. She liked him—more than liked him, really—but his distant air the day before had left her feeling more like a tour guide than a potential girlfriend. As she turned to face him, she noticed he was holding something behind his back, a shy smile playing on his lips.
“A good morn to ye, lass.” Callan’s burr was thick this morning. “I saw these on our way back from the park.”
He handed her a small basket filled with ripe strawberries, their bright red color vibrant against the green cardboard container. Daisy’s heart skipped a beat, not just at the sight of the strawberries, but at the thoughtfulness behind the gesture.
“I remembered ye said ye liked the wee berries,” he said.
Daisy took the basket, their fingers brushing briefly. The touch sent a warm jolt through her, and she smiled, genuinely touched. “Thank you. This is really sweet of you. I’ll make angel food cake and we can put the berries on top with whipped cream for dessert tonight.”
He shifted on his feet, leaning against the counter. “I wanted to thank ye. For showing me around Boston yesterday. I know I have been a bit addled. I appreciate yer patience.”
Warmth flooded through her, the earlier doubts easing. It wasn’t that Callan didn’t care or wasn’t interested—it was just that he was struggling with his memory loss or whatever was going on with him. Perhaps she had been too quick to feel slighted, too eager to read into his distractedness as disinterest, something the guy she’d dated before Shawn had accused her of more than once.
“I had a great time showing you around, even if it got a bit hectic,” she admitted, placing the strawberries on the counter.
“Do you want to go to the doctor?”
At his blank look, she elaborated. “You know, for your memory loss?”
“Nay. It will return in time.”
He was a grown man, so it wasn’t like she could force him. With a shrug, she turned back to finish the pancakes, her spirits lifting as she asked him about the dog park.
After they finished a hearty breakfast, Daisy put the dishes in the sink to deal with later.
“Ready to shop?”
“Nay.” He shook his head. “I do not have enough green paper for new clothes.”
Certain she’d turned the stove off, she turned to him. “You can pay me back after you get paid for working the Faire.”
At least this time riding in the car, he didn’t constantly hold on to the seat or clench his fists, though his face was still a bit pale.
As they parked and walked to the store, Daisy paused. “Are you married? Kids?”
Callan stopped, head tilted, as he looked at her.
“Nay, lass. I am not married and as far as I know, I dinna have any wee ones.”
She pursed her lips. “But how do you know? Is your memory coming back?”
He scraped his hair back with one of the elastics she’d given him. “Bits and pieces. There is no one alive waiting for me.”
That was an odd way to put it. But she shrugged it aside as they entered the store, heading for the jeans and tee shirts. Poor Callan, the guy looked overwhelmed at all the choices.
