“Why not?”
Blair checked the time. “You know what? I have to go.” She had a date that wasn’t a date with the literary asshole in question.
Life had become rather confusing.
Outside, at the appointed time, Jack held a finger against his lips and pointed toward the fence that separated the yard from Mrs. Afonso’s. He was wearing a dark-gray hoodie with the hood up. It was a bit jarring to see him in long sleeves. It reminded her that he would eventually go home to Minnesota, where it was cold.
“What is this?” Like the nearby lemon tree, the rest of the vegetation on the Mrs. Afonso side of the yard hadn’t been doing well. Blair had had to have a row of California lilac ripped out. But tonight, the resultant bare spot had been turned into… well, it looked like a picnic.
“Shh.” He took her hand and led her to a quilt he’d spread on the ground. Her curiosity was such that she didn’t even mind that, forget folding, she’d have to wash it about a thousand times now that it had been outside on the ground.
There were a bottle of gin, a couple cans of tonic, a Ziploc full of ice, and two glasses on the quilt. “I know you’re a vodka martini person, but we’re getting into the spirit of Double Gin Night.”
“What is this double gin thing you keep talking about?”
He sat with his back to the fence and tugged her down to join him. “All will be revealed. I hope. And if not, we’ll have some G&Ts and do some stargazing.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Jack Branksome?”
“Shh.” He produced another quilt and shook it out over her legs. “I thought you might get cold.”
How… thoughtful.
“I haven’t really been outside much at night, other than comingand going to your place,” he whispered as he started mixing the drinks. “I didn’t realize how stunning the stars are up here.”
She lowered her voice to match his. “I don’t appreciate it as much as I should.”
“I used to spend summers with my dad at his lake place. The stars up there were really something.”
“Cal was into astronomy for a while when he was younger.” She squinted up. “There’s Orion.”
He handed her a drink, they toasted, then they shot the breeze in low tones. It shouldn’t have been that remarkable. They’d talked plenty of times before. But there was something about sitting shoulder to shoulder, whispering in the dark, that conferred a kind of intimacy that felt… new.
Or maybe it was the gin. She was on her second drink, and he made them strong.
“Jack,” she whispered when there was a lull in the conversation. “Your book is so good.”
He dipped his head. “I—”
A peal of laughter startled Blair so much that she physically jumped.
Jack cocked his head so dramatically that it made Blair laugh. He looked like Edward trying to identify a new sound.
He clapped a hand over her mouth, andwhywere his hands always so warm? It wasn’t fair.
She was just tipsy enough that she pried his hand off and, as before in the pool house, balled her own hand up into a fist and nestled it in his larger, warmer hand.
Not only did he keep her hand, he took her other one, but not before, again, making a shushing motion with his finger against his lips. She nodded as the laughter from over the fence started again. It was accompanied by urgent whispering she was having trouble making out. She soon realized that was because Mrs. Afonso and her guests were speaking Italian.
But then, in English, a third voice: “Stop with the Italian! If I’m going to be an accessory to a crime, the least you can do is commit it in English.”
“So demanding,” Mrs. Afonso said in a teasing tone.
“Do I need to remind you who’s the retired pitcher here?”
Everyone laughed, and Mrs. Afonso said, “Ready?”
And then the projectiles started coming over the fence.
