Coming Swoon (Brunch Bros #4)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Peter had just exited the steamy confines of his bathroom after his post-workout shower when his room phone began to ring. He groaned.

It had been nonstop rehearsals and meetings. Mentally, he was spent. Physically he was tired too, but he’d done that to himself. Exercising almost helped with his pent-up frustration surrounding Sybil.

“Hello?” he said, pinning the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could at least put on some underwear. Talking on the phone naked was awkward.

“Hey, bud!” Jordy’s cheerful voice barked in his ear. “How’s it going?”

The weight that lifted off his shoulders made Peter feel like he could float to the ceiling.

“It’s going,” he said and sat on the edge of the bed. “Stepping into a production at the last minute is not for the faint of heart. How are you? How’s Annie?”

“We’re good,” Jordy said, and there was a hesitation there that told Peter to keep his mouth shut and let his friend fill the silence. “I need your advice.”

“About what?”

“Proposing to Annie.”

“You haven’t done that yet?” Peter teased. It wasn’t a secret that Jordy wanted to marry Annie. He’d technically already proposed once when he was high on painkillers after his motorcycle accident. Every time Jordy sent him a picture, Peter half expected it to be a ring on Annie’s finger.

“She didn’t want to get engaged until after we went to her ex’s wedding this summer. And then I wanted it to be a surprise so I’ve been waiting to throw her off the scent. Like, I wanted to propose on the car ride back to the hotel after the reception, but this is the story we’ll tell for the rest of our lives. We’re going to tell this story to our kids. It has to be perfect. And I thought, who knows romance better than Peter?”

“You’ve come to the right place,” Peter said. “Let’s brainstorm. What places are special to the two of you?”

Jordy listed off a few places, included the hospital room he’d initially proposed in, and then said, “And the lighthouse, obviously.”

“Call me sappy, but my vote is for the lighthouse. It’s where you fell in love.”

“It’s where she almost stabbed me,” Jordy said wistfully.

“I don’t know if I want to know what the two of you get up to in the bedroom.”

Jordy laughed. “No, when we met. Or, re-met. I was taking a shower and Annie thought I was an intruder and surprised me with a knife.”

“Kinky.”

“You don’t think the lighthouse is too obvious?”

Peter sighed softly. “It’s okay to be obvious. Though when you tell your love story to your kids, I think you should leave out the knife play.”

Jordy plowed on, ignoring the joke. “How do I make a trip to Crane Cove not suspicious?”

“Are you coming here for Thanksgiving again?”

“I don’t know if I can last a month and a half. Or is it a month and three quarters? I haven’t looked at the calendar yet.”

Peter checked the calendar on his phone. “It falls on the last week of the month. How do you feel about Veterans’ Day?”

“That’s not really a romantic holiday.”

“Neither is Thanksgiving, but with Annie’s teaching schedule you have to plan around school breaks. Not everyone is an old, retired man like you.”

“Maybe I could charter a private jet and cut a lot of our travel time. I’m starting to see why Sam does it,” Jordy mused. “But what’s the occasion? I can’t say Veterans’ Day.”

Peter stood and paced as far as the phone cord would allow. “Is there any sort of birding event she might want to see or take part in?”

There was a pause and then, “Fuck, you’re good at this. I will do some research. I know you’re busy and working, but can I call or text you about this some more?”

“Any time. Let me know what you figure out.”

“Thanks. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Peter said and hung up.

It was easy to give other people advice. It all seemed so clear when it was someone else’s love life. He could read the map and see the path they were supposed to take. It was so easy that he always assumed he would know exactly what to do when he reunited with Sybil.

He knew he’d have to clear up a few things about the last twelve years, but all of that could have been solved with a simple conversation, right? He never expected to Wile E. Coyote into the brick wall she’d erected between them over and over and over again. She didn’t want to talk about them. She didn’t want to acknowledge there had ever been a them.

But she kept the flowers he sent. She’d kept the red sweater. And when he’d almost kissed her in the supply closet, she hadn’t pulled away or punched him in the throat.

She’d told him that he was a distraction .

That buoyed him more than it should have buoyed a reasonable person. But Peter had sped past reasonable years ago.

If he distracted her, that meant the door wasn’t shut. There was still a small glimmer of hope, like spotting a lost ring in a storm drain.

How the hell did he get the door to open again?

His phone rang again. He wasn’t this popular on a normal day.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Peter?” asked a soft, sweet female voice.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“It’s Dahlia, the intimacy coordinator. I’m sorry to bother you during your down time, but I had some questions for you. Is now a good time to talk?”

“It’s a good time. What did you need from me?”

“Well, I had a meeting with Charlotte today to go over what you, Madelyn, and I discussed in our meeting about the intimate aspects of the production,” Dahlia began. “And Charlotte is concerned about potential delays because of Madelyn’s morning sickness. She told me that she’s hired a photo double for Madelyn, and she brought up the possibility of the photo double filming some of the intimate aspects. I know this isn’t a particularly racy production, but we do want everyone to feel comfortable. Keep in mind you can absolutely say no, but would you be comfortable potentially kissing Madelyn’s double if that became necessary?”

Peter had zoned out a little while Dahlia had been talking, but the part of his brain that was tuned in to any potential mention of kissing Sybil grabbed his attention. He took a deep breath and concentrated on sounding casual.

“I don’t mind. A kiss is a kiss, and the schedule is important,” he said, his heart racing. “Have you spoken to Sybil about this?”

“No, I haven’t. She’s my next call.” There was a beat of silence, and then she asked, “Have you two met already?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” Peter winced. He hadn’t meant to slip up like that. The suitable, innocent explanation was on the tip of his tongue, but all he could think about were the nights—and days—they’d spent in bed together. With an effort, he forced out, “Our best friends are married to each other. We were in the wedding together.”

“That’s so sweet,” Dahlia cooed. “Are you sure you’re comfortable kissing her? If it’s weird, we can always find another way.”

“It’s fine. Really,” Peter insisted.

“Okay.” Dahlia didn’t sound convinced. “If you’re really sure, I’ll go ahead and give Sybil a call to see how she feels about the arrangement. I’ll see you on set. Have a nice rest of your day.”

“Thanks, Dahlia,” he said and hung up.

It had to be a sign from the universe. How else could he explain the timing of Dahlia’s call? He needed a way to shift things with Sybil, and one had been provided to him.

Was it wrong to call Madelyn and beg her to pretend to be too sick to kiss him?

Yes, yes, it was very, very wrong. But extremely tempting. He needed to keep trusting that everything was going to work out.