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“Deal.” I followed him into the jeweler. A very upscale place with muted jazz on the speakers, plush carpeting, and sparkling display cases. The decor made me glad I’d let Gideon talk me into a nicer shirt. He, of course, fit right in with his crisp white shirt, gray pants, and jaunty plaid bow tie.

The sole clerk was busy with a young couple when we came in, so I let Gideon show me various jewelry box options in a display near the door.

“Too sappy?” I asked as my gaze landed on a silver case etched with a quote about love from a famous poet. I wasn’t much on poetry, but the line about carrying the heart of another was pretty.

“Quit second-guessing your instincts.” Gideon touched my arm. “It’s perfect if you ask me. You want her to take good care of Brandon’s heart. It’s a good message.”

“I trust you more than my instincts. I’ll get it.”

“Sorry about the wait, gentlemen.” Finally free, the clerk strode over. His black suit was as stiff as his hair. “Do I sniff a spring wedding, perhaps? I have a lovely selection of men’s rings, including some unusual offerings.”

“Uh.” Why perfect strangers seemed so ready to marry Gideon and me off, I wasn’t sure, but I really needed to work on a response that wasn’t an awkward noise.

“Not for us.” Smooth as ever, Gideon covered for me. “We’re here to do a pickup. Should be under Frost.”

“Of course.” The clerk strode over to a discreetly placed tablet, typing with a manicured finger. “Do you have ID?”

“Yeah.” I dug out my wallet and handed my license over.

“You’re not Brandon?” The man frowned.

“No, I’m his brother. Didn’t he call?” I tried to keep the frustration from my tone, but I hadn’t come this far to fall five yards short of the goal. “He said he’d clear it for me to do the pickup.”

“I understand, sir. Let me go check our phone messages.” The clerk retreated to the rear of the store while I tried and failed to reach Brandon.

“Damn it. He’s not answering.”

“Probably means they succeeded in finding a hotel room.” Gideon’s eyes twinkled as he patted my shoulder. “This will work out. They’re simply being cautious, which is a good thing.”

“No message that I could find.” Still frowning, the clerk returned, no ring box in hand.

Fuck. No holding back my annoyance now. “I need—”

“Paul, show him the text messages with Brandon.” Keeping his hand on my shoulder, Gideon countered my rising irritation with his calm voice, reminding me that getting cranky wasn’t likely to get results.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” I pulled out my phone and clicked over to the messages with Brandon before holding out the phone. “Here.”

“Hmm.” The clerk studied the screen, and sweat gathered in my lower back. But right as I was about to give up hope, my phone rang. Brandon.

A quick conversation followed, and suddenly, the clerk was back to overly polite.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Frost. I’ll be right back with the ring.”

“See? It worked out.” Gideon smiled patiently at me as the clerk bustled off to the back again. “And now you totally deserve a cannoli with your dinner.”

“A cannoli, huh?” Crisis averted, I could joke again. And after his deft talent for defusing the situation, he was the one who needed a reward, and I fully intended to deliver.

“If you’re good.” His eyes sparkled.

“I’m very good,” I promised, fully intending to light him up brighter than the square as soon as I could.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Can we get a bigger sign with the park hours on it? These teenagers have not been respecting the sundown rule. They need to find a new place to canoodle. ~Ernest Morrison posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app

Paul

Was it possible to be out on a date and not know it? The whole ride back to Evergreen, I stewed on that question. Gideon and I’d had an amazing dinner at this small Italian place he knew that didn’t have the same crowds as most of the more popular spots in the pre-Christmas Eve crush. My lack of dating experience gave me few experiences to compare our dinner with, but we’d held hands walking back through the square to reach the restaurant, sat way closer than friends might, and I’d let him steal bites of my meatballs. We certainly felt like a couple, which was good because it meant that maybe we didn’t need some big talk. Accidental dating? Was that even a thing? Maybe we could make it one.

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