He lifts them slightly.“Here’s your caffeine hit.”
I cross the lot toward him.“You got it from Genevieve’s Diner.”
“You doubted me?”
I take the bigger cup, feeling the coolness seep into my fingertips.“Did you tell her how awesome the pies were?”
“I did,” he says, taking a sip of his own coffee.“Told her next year, I’ll need to put an order in.”
I laugh, shaking my head.“Good luck with that.People have been begging her to take orders for years.She won’t cave.”
“She likes the line, huh?”he asks with a mischievous grin.
“She likes the buzz,” I correct.“The thrill of selling out.It’s a power move.”
“Hm.”He cocks his head, studying me.“I can be persuasive.”
I arch an eyebrow.“Can you now?”
His eyes glint with something unreadable, and for a moment, we just stand there, the air crackling between us.
He pushes off the car and nods toward the trail.“So, where’s this famous bridge?”
I gesture for him to follow.“Come with me.”
The fundraiser stuff is still running through my head as we make our way along the flat path.I’m at ease as we walk, but when I look over, he seems wound up, shoulders tight, a firm hold on his cup.Maybe I should start easy… ask about normal stuff like his job.
Girl, get yourself together.This is just for the article.We’ve done dozens of interviews, and this is no different.
The bridge comes into view ahead, stone pillars rising above the riverbank, weathered by time.
“You need to see it from underneath first, then from the top.”I nod, sipping my coffee.
“Thanks for last night,” he says, glancing at me.“It was nice.Keith had a great time too.”
I nod.“It’s good to see Keith looked after.He’s done a lot for us.”
Adrian hesitates.“He’s done a lot for me too.”
His gaze flickers to me, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Just with Mom’s diagnosis, you know…” I add softly.
Understanding, he nods again.
We reach the base of the bridge.The small river flows beneath it, the water rushing over rocks.The sight of it is breathtaking in a quiet, understated way.I haven’t come here in a while.I’ve been preoccupied, but every time I do it feels like this, and I remember why I love it so much.
“Wow,” he murmurs, tilting his head back.
I snap a couple of pictures with my camera, then glance at him.“Maybe I should be taking your photo for the article.”
He shakes his head and holds his hand in front of the lens.“Not yet.”
I lower my camera.“Well, you need to think about where I’m getting this picture from because it has to be good.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten.”
We make our way to the top of the bridge.From here, the view stretches out in every direction; the river flowing below and the forest stretching out beyond it.The kind of view that makes you want to stop and just take it all in.
