“We do. Would you like one?”
“I’d like a half dozen.” I grinned. “For now.”
She laughed. “What flavor?”
“Surprise me.”
I was typing away when footsteps returned and something was placed beside me. I paused to pop a donut hole in my mouth. But the item my hand landed on wasn’t what I was expecting.
I stared at the white shoe, confused for a moment. And then I saw the small silver Space Needle sitting beside it, attached by a shoe lace.
My heart pounded as I slowly turned around, and I felt as though I were going to burst out of my skin at the sight.
Graham. He was here. More gorgeous than ever with scruff on his face, his hair tousled and sexy… and he’d brought my shoe all the way to Seattle.
“You know,” he said, eyeing the plate of donut holes he’d clearly just taken from Maya and placing them next to the shoe, his voice strumming my heartstrings into a sappy lovesick melody, “you really should leave some of these for the other customers.”
I grinned.
“It’s proper coffee shop etiquette,” he continued.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, grabbing one and taking a bite.
“Yeah,” he said, his pale eyes taking in every inch of my face before meeting mine again and settling there as if perhaps he had nowhere else to be.
“Wanna share?” I said, sliding the plate toward him.
He pulled out the stool beside me, sat down, and then took my hand in his.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Epilogue
“How do you think it went?” Graham asked.
I smiled down to the dog at the end of the leash I was holding. He looked very handsome with his new collar, bought for the occasion, and sporting a black bandana around his neck.
“He did very well,” I said, stopping to give our boy a pet. He immediately jumped up on me.
“Fitzwilliam,” Graham said, his voice a gentle warning. “Down.”
The puppy ignored his dad and I laughed as Graham made a face.
The three of us were walking down Alki Avenue, me in a stained white Nike tracksuit, a gift from the company after a photo shoot I’d done for them two weeks before, and Graham sporting the purple UW sweatshirt he’d bought for the last football game we’d attended with Marley.
Our new puppy – brushed and primped – was prancing ahead of us, proud of his own first modeling moment today.
We’d adopted Fitzwilliam, named after none other than Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Austen’s most adored male lead, three months ago from an adoption event put on by Addie’s veterinary clinic. He was a purebred Bernese Mountain Dog that had been given up because the previous owner was allergic. The dog was gorgeous, with tan and black around his eyes and a white stripe down his nose. He was also one hundred percent dork. He suited us perfectly.
As part of Graham’s local column in the Seattle Post, Seattle Big and Small, he’d recently interviewed Fitzwilliam about his adoption experience. A local magazine, inspired by the sweet and silly column, asked for an expanded version… and a photo shoot with the “aspiring model, who is following in his mother’s footsteps”. We’d just finished the shoot, which had included stoic poses with the Puget Sound and Cascade Mountains as a backdrop, and some racier photos of him frolicking on the beach.
“You’re going to be a star!” the photographer assured him afterwards, giving him a mom-and dad-approved treat.
“Dammit,” I said suddenly, stopping and staring down at the front of my sweatsuit jacket where I’d just spilled coffee. Again.
Graham laughed. “Why you wear anything but black I’ll never know.” He lifted my hand, my fingers interlaced with his, and kissed the back of it, ignoring the two teenage girls walking by, their phones lifted as they took pictures or perhaps even videoed us. It rarely happened in Seattle, but when it did, we didn’t care where it ended up. We had nothing to hide.
Since seeing that shoe and the little Space Needle statue beside my laptop in the Ampersand Cafe two years ago, we’d experienced a lot together. My shock that he’d really come was quickly replaced by elation. I’d slid from my stool, as if in slow motion, and sank into his arms, fitting against him just like I’d remembered… perfectly.
