Page 84 of Muskoka Blue
A shiver of anticipation rolled over her, and she glanced at the blurring trees on the highway to the city.
“Excited?” Ange asked.
“Yes.” Over the past weeks she’d felt a return of the zest and enthusiasm that had once colored every day. She woke each morning with anticipation, with thankfulness for what the day would bring. Since Dan’s return to Toronto, she’d visited a few times, staying with Ange’s in-laws in Mississauga and enjoying the chance to see the sights and see Dan. And now to be heading back to the city for her birthday…
She wondered what he had planned for tonight.
* * *
The lights were dim,the music soft, this restaurant in Little Italy perfect for tonight. The past few months had flown. As training had ramped up, they’d squeezed in dates around Dan’s busy schedule—movies, dinners, and occasional adventures made more fun by Sarah’s wide-eyed enthusiasm. And all the time, Dan kept discovering layers to this woman, clues to her past, deepening the fascination Sarah twirled around his heart.
He leaned forward, smiling as Sarah daintily slurped her linguine marinara. Every so often she’d slurp loudly and glance up. The candles made it hard to tell if her cheeks were pink, but their flickering shadows did something magical to her eyelashes and hair.
“So, Princess, are you enjoying your birthday?”
She nodded. Slurped. Smiled. “This is so delicious.”
“Not too ordinary for you? Now I know you’ve eaten African food.” He raised an eyebrow. “In Africa.”
A recent revelation from their trip to Niagara Falls: she’d been on a missions trip to Zimbabwe and seen Victoria Falls.
“Mealie-meal sure doesn’t taste like this, Dan. And while seeing baby elephants in the wild was cute, I quite like the view here, too.” She raised her brows at him and then winked.
Okay, he really liked this flirty side of her. It reminded him a bit of Mike’s wife, Bree, with her open affection and sassy comments at Beau’s recent wedding. Except he’d never felt anything remotely romantic for Bree, which was the total opposite of how he felt about Sarah.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“You. See, I quite like the view right now too.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” She waved a hand at the rustic terracotta walls. “I didn’t think this would be your cup of tea, but okay.”
“Granted, it’s not quite as dramatic as the view from the CN tower,” he admitted. Another revelation from last weekend: Sarah hated heights.
“Lake Ontario at sunset was pretty spectacular, but I prefer my feet on the ground.”
He couldn’t say the same. These past few weeks, his heart had skipped way in front of his head. It was hard to take things slowly when Sarah kept bringing extra joy to his world. His favorite moment of their trip to the falls had been when the boat had lurched, causing Sarah to slip, and he’d had to wrap his arms around her—hadto—as a Japanese tourist snapped their photo. His phone screensaver was now the image of them both grinning at the camera, her hair drifting to one side in the moist breeze, safely ensconced in his arms. He could stare at that image forever.
“Dan, are you going to finish that, or do you need help? I’m surprised you haven’t finished already, seeing you love eating as much as you do.”
“So sue me. It’s an occupational hazard.” He pulled his plate closer, smiling as she snitched a ravioli square.
He liked that she enjoyed food as he did. He liked how they could talk about all sorts of things yet never run out of conversation. He liked how she noticed people, like the men fishing at the falls. He liked listening and watching and learning her.
“Are you ready for your present now?”
She lit up like a kid at Christmas.
“Is that a yes?”
“I don’t do cool, calm, and collected. It’s not in my DNA.”
“I like your DNA just fine the way it is.”
As he handed over her gift, uncertainty trickled through him. It’d been hard to know what to give her. Sarah wasn’t into glitz, definitely wasn’t sporty, and he didn’t want to give her something that signaled a depth to their relationship they hadn’t reached yet. He’d finally settled on a framed print of Lake Muskoka in the fall, the colored trees rising through the mists. It was evocative and appropriate, given the time enjoyed there.
She unwrapped the purple tissue paper, her breath catching. “Oh, Dan, how beautiful! Oh, it’s exactly right. Thank you so much.”
Thank goodness.