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Claire was so preoccupied with admiring every new thing she noticed—especially the signs proclaiming “Toilets” instead of “Restrooms”—that when the time came for her to tap her card against the yellow scanner, the blasted thing didn’t work.
“Lay it flatter,” Liam instructed over her shoulder. “No, flatter. Flatter.”
Eventually, he reached around and laid the card on the circle pad himself. Of course the gates swung open on his first attempt. After going through the waist-high gates, Claire swiped the card back from his hands and tucked it safely away.
“You’ll need it to leave the next station,” he said. “And next time, lay it flat like I told you to.”
“I was laying it flat,” she said, turning on him at once.
But when she saw that familiar twinkle in his eye, she paused. Seriously, what was that, that little narrowing of his eyes? It wasn’t really a smile, just his lower eyelids squinting up.
Whatever it was, it made his eyes shine, despite their dark tone. And, dang it all, if it didn’t make him all the more appealing.
She kept up with his pace as they moved through the station, making their way to a large open area with a glass, domed roof. Two train tracks ran along either side of the center, grey-stoned platform, and large advertisements for ITV’s latest shows and Costa Coffee stretched the length of the walls.
“At the risk of breaking one of your rules,” Liam began, smoothing out his beard with his hand, “I was wondering if I might suggest a different route than the one you’ve planned.”
Her brow twitched. She wasn’t going to panic. She could adapt and adjust most of the time. Some of the time.
Okay, never. She was terrible at adapting.
“We can still see everything on your list,” Liam continued, apparently unaware of the turmoil he’d caused within her, “but if there’s a better route, one that includes more sites to see, I could show you the way.”
Raising her shoulders, she brought the coat up to her ears, hoping to ward off the chill that had come over her since they’d stopped walking. The air wasn’t much warmer in the station than it was outside, despite the morning sunlight beaming in through the glass roof.
She had to admit, Liam’s suggestion made sense. Having an actual Londoner’s opinion on how to get from point A to point B would be super helpful.
“And you’re sure we still get to see my list of things?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Ugh. She could listen to that accent all day. She just needed to remember that even though she liked the sound of it now, it hadn’t always been the bearer of kindness to her.
“Alright,” she finally relented. “I guess that would be okay, then. Just so long as it doesn’t keep us out too late. I want to make sure we can get back when Melody and Tasha need us.”
“Alright, then we’ll need to take the eastbound Piccadilly line.” Liam stood off to the left side labeled Platform Three. “It should be here in just a minute.”
Sure enough, as Claire peered down the end of the cold, dark tunnel, a rush of cold wind fluttered her wavy hair, and a convoy shot forth from the darkness, its brakes squealing in protest.
Her parents had always talked about how much they’d loved taking the Subway in New York. That was another broken promise they’d made.
“We’ll take you around New York City for your high school graduation, Claire Bear,” they’d said, using the nickname she’d grown to hate.
Obviously, the trip never occurred. Instead, her parents had toured around the Egyptian Pyramids without her while she started work at Peonies & Burlap.
Even though she would have loved to experience riding the Subway with her parents—and the Underground with Melody—she was determined to still enjoy herself, even if she had to hide most of her excitement from Liam.
The train pulled to a swift stop, opening its doors as passengers poured forth like an avalanche, filling every inch of the platform as they exited the train.
“This is Hammersmith,” a female voice sounded on the intercom. “Change here for the District Line. This is the Piccadilly Line service toward Gloucester Road.”
Claire trailed behind Liam as they boarded, taking the last open seats as the female voice sounded again.
“The next station is Barons Court.”
Claire leaned as far away from Liam as she could without being obvious, focusing on the white walls of the train. She didn’t need to catch another whiff of that lumberjack Christmas cologne he was wearing again today. Why couldn’t he smell more like Richard had—of wet dog and body odor?
As soon as the doors closed, the train picked up speed, and the whirring sounded louder and louder. The light from the station eventually disappeared, and the black walls of the Underground flew past the window in a dark blur.
