She settled in to enjoy the view of the shore as they moved away from it. “Look. There’s your grandparents’ house!” she cried, spying the big white house with the cozy carriage house located alongside it, divided by the garden hedge.
“Yeah, it looks a lot smaller from here.” He smiled and steered them to the right and away from the house.
“Where are we off to?”
“Someplace special,” he promised. “You’ll see.”
She was almost sorry that Jackie was missing this. Selfishly, though, she secretly savored Brent’s company. She knew he wasn’t her groom. But it was awfully fun to get caught up in the fantasy. And that’s all this was, honestly. A fantasy that would be over soon.
How depressing.
“You’ve never told me certain things about yourself, you know,” Brent said after a pause.
“Oh yeah?” Hope asked, sensing she needed to tread carefully. “Like what?”
He quirked a grin. “Your favorite color.”
She laughed in relief, having expected something deep and meaningful. “That’s easy,” she said, smiling back at him. “It’s blueberry blue.”
“Not any ol’ blue?” he teased. “But blueberry blue?”
“No other blue will do,” she proclaimed.
He surveyed her features. “When did you decide that?”
“When I was a kid living in Blue Hill.”
“Then I’m glad that you’re back here in summertime, so you can be awash in your favorite color.”
Hope giggled at the twinkle in his eye. “What’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Don’t play cute with me,” she said with a saucy air because she was enjoying their light banter. “Your favorite color.”
“Haven’t got one.”
“That is so not fair. And so not true.”
“I’m serious. I like all colors equally.”
“Nobody likes all colors equally.”
“Okay, then. Blueberry blue.”
“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “You made that up.”
“I do love blueberries. My mom makes the best muffins. It’s too bad you can’t eat them.”
“Oh, I…could make an exception.” Hope bit her lip. “To be polite.”
He shot her an amused look. “One muffin’s not going to hurt you, anyway. You’re perfect just the way you are. Besides that, we’re going running in the morning.”
“Ha,” she said, kind of hoping he’d forgotten. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” he said, relenting. “It’s red. My favorite color is red.”
“Red?”
“Sure. Like the Boston Red Sox.” He kept paddling with ease. “Now you ask me something.”
“Like what?”
“Anything in the world.”
“Are we, like, on ‘favorite color’ level, or can I ask for the den safe combination?”
Brent belly laughed at this. “You can ask, but I’m not telling. After we’re married, though?” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“Okay, fine.” She squared her shoulders. “I’ll ask.” It took her a couple of minutes to think up the question. “What were you like as a kid?”
“Oh…pretty perfect.”
“Maybe I should ask your sibs?”
“True.” He repressed a grin. “They might dish.”
“So, there is dirt on baby Brent?” She envisioned a miniature version of him playing outdoors and making mud pies, and she nearly snorted.
“I did not make mud pies.”
Hope gasped. “But, how did you know—?’”
“Probably because I can read your mind.”
Eeep. Thankfully, he was wrong about that.
“I mean it, though. Seriously.”
“Wild guess. And anyway,” he said nonchalantly. “You told me you and your sister used to do that when you were little.”
“Uh, right.” Hope’s heart sank. So, Brent and Jackie had engaged in some discussions about their childhoods, and here she was, thinking her conversation with Brent was unique. “I bet you got a kick out of everything else, too.”
“Would have if I could have.”
“What do you mean?”
“We never finished that conversation. You took that call. About the Martin wedding.”
“The Martins. Oh, yeah.”
“You know,” he said seriously. “It hasn’t always been about them. You had that other wedding before. What was the bride’s name? Covington?”
“Hmm. I think so?”
“This Maine air must be doing you good if you’ve already wiped that.”
“Well, it was stressful…all that wedding planning.”
“I know.” He gave her an earnest look. “Which is why it’s good you’re finally relaxing.” He dipped his hand into the water and flicked a fine spray of chilly droplets toward her. They speckled her bare arms and cheeks.
“Hey!” she yelped, but she was laughing. She stuck her hand in the water and cupped at bit of it in her palm, flinging it in Brent’s direction.
He chuckled as the splatter landed in the center of his T-shirt. “Bull’s-eye.”
Hope grimaced. She hadn’t meant to get him that wet. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll dry.”
“You never really answered my question.”
“You first.”
“On what?”
“How about the kid thing?”
She sucked in a breath, wondering how much to share.
“What games did you like to play, for example?” He steered them toward a cove. “Bet you planned weddings for your dolls.”
“Would have if I could have, but our mom didn’t believe in us having them.”
“Weddings or dolls?” he teased.
“Dolls, you goofball.” She splashed him again, and he laughed. “We did have this old chess set, though, and all of the pieces looked like people. I used to marry those guys off to each other when my mom wasn’t looking.” Which was true. Hope had always imagined having a two-parent home with a big family. Sort of like the one that Brent had.