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“David!” Lizzie is scrambling for the door before I even bring the truck to a stop. A second later, she’s flung it open and is speeding across the asphalt.
The man hears Lizzie, turns to witness her approach, and then wraps himself around her as she dives to embrace him. Her arms go around his neck, her feet come off the floor.
My stomach sinks.
As I get out of the truck, I watch them, counting the seconds until he lets Lizzie go.
“What in the hell are you doing in East River?” Lizzie is asking when I reach them. She accompanies her question with a punch to his arm. “And without any warning no less.”
“It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if I’d told you ahead of time, now would it?” The man says.
I can’t help but notice the level of affection on his face as he smiles at Lizzie. He’s shorter than me. Just a few inches taller than her. Which means he can look her in the eye like an equal. Not stomp about like a, what had she called me before? Big Foot.
When the stranger glances in my direction, Lizzie snaps back into her manners.
“Caleb. Caleb, come meet David. One of my oldest friends.”
I assess David, finding her description hard to believe. Old is certainly not a word I’d use to describe the man in front of me.
“Gee thanks, Liz. Make me sound ancient, why don’t you?” he says.
I try not to roll my eyes. It’s hard for a man dressed as fashionably as David to ever look old. In slim-fit jeans, leather boots, and a jacket to match, David could have been silver from root to tip and have more wrinkles than an elephant, but he’d still look young. Even the peppering of gray at his temples looks more like a fashion statement than a sign of aging.
He’s also, I notice with annoyance, incredibly handsome. I know this because the second he turns to greet me properly, navy blue eyes sparking with charisma, I feel it. That tiny hope that had glowed like an ember deep inside my chest snuffs out into nothing.
“David Carson, nice to meet you,” he says, holding out a hand.
Not wanting to be rude, I take it, shake and detach as quickly as possible.
“Caleb Walker,” I offer.
“I should be thanking you,” David says, taking me by surprise. “I hear you’ve been looking after our Lizzie here while she’s been in town?”
I’m not sure which offends me more: his declaration that Lizzie belongs to him or the hand he’s placed on the back of her neck. For a moment, I’m tempted to lunge at him and forcibly remove the thing.
“Sure. No problem,” I grunt.
Lizzie shoves an elbow into David’s gut.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a constant joy to be around.”
“Unless you’re playing Scrabble. Or Monopoly. Or Tic-Tac-Toe for that matter.” For a moment, they seem to fall into their own little friendship bubble but David is frustratingly considerate as he turns to include me. “You ever played her at a board game yet?” he asks. “Most competitive woman I ever met.”
“Oh, shut up,” Lizzie chides, elbowing him again. “You love me and you know it.”
There is that word again. The L word. If I were superstitious, I’d think it’s haunting me today. Instead, I just accept it as a painful coincidence.
“I’m guessing this changes our plans for the day?” I say, pointedly looking toward the house.
Lizzie blinks, suddenly unsure. She glances between the two of us, her mouth working over nothing but air.
“Don’t let me mess you about,” David says, with a raised palm. “Honestly, I just wanted to surprise Lizzie for once.” He turns his focus to her. “That look on your face is worth kicking my heels for the day if you have plans already.”
“We don’t!”
The speed with which Lizzie denies it is like another gut punch.
You could have at least hesitated a little.
