CHAPTER 6
A Date That Feels Too Easy
Kathy — POV
Kathy told herself not to read too much into it.
It was just a walk.
That's what he had said.
No fancy dinner. No restaurant reservation. No obvious "date" energy.
Just walking.
Still, when she closed the flower shop early that afternoon and stepped outside, she found herself scanning the street without meaning to — her eyes moving past the bakery, past the library, past the coffee shop where the morning crowd had long since cleared.
Like she was expecting him to already be there.
Which was ridiculous.
Brad wasn't the type of man who just... waited on sidewalks.
At least, she thought so.
But then she saw him.
He was standing a short distance away, hands in his pockets, looking like he was observing the world instead of waiting in it. Same calm posture. Same quiet presence.
Except now, she knew him a little better.
That thought alone made her pause.
"Hey," she called out.
He turned immediately.
Like he had been ready for her the whole time.
"Hi," he said.
Kathy walked closer. "You actually showed up."
Brad tilted his head slightly. "I said I would."
She smiled. "That seems to be your thing."
They started walking without much planning.
Just side by side.
No destination at first.
The street was busy, but not overwhelming. Small food stalls, passing cars, people laughing in groups. The usual noise of Hood River doing its thing.
Kathy noticed Brad didn't seem bothered by it.
But he also didn't fully blend into it.
He walked like someone who was used to space.
Like the world usually moved around him, not through him.
"So," she said, breaking the silence, "this is your idea of a date?"
He glanced at her.
A brief pause.
Then, "If you want to call it that."
Kathy smirked. "I didn't say it was a date."
"You didn't have to."
That made her laugh softly. "Okay, mysterious man. What should I call it then?"
"A walk," he said simply.
"Very romantic," she teased.
That earned the smallest hint of a smile from him.
They walked for a while without talking.
It wasn't awkward.
Which surprised her.
Usually silence with someone new felt like pressure. Something to fill. Something to fix.
But with him, it just... existed.
Like it belonged there.
They passed a small food stand. The smell of grilled food filled the air — garlic, salt, something sweet and caramelizing.
Kathy slowed down a little. "Are you hungry?"
"A little," Brad admitted.
"Wow," she said. "You have basic human needs. I was starting to wonder."
He glanced at her. "I eat."
"Good to know."
She pointed toward the stall. "Then let's fix that."
Brad followed without argument.
That alone felt strange.
Most men she had met in her life either overplanned everything or insisted on paying for everything in a way that made it feel like a performance.
Brad just... followed.
Like it didn't matter where they went, as long as they were going.
They ordered food and sat on a small bench nearby.
Nothing fancy.
Just paper plates and simple snacks.
The grill smoke curled between them, and for a moment, the whole world smelled like garlic and salt and something that felt almost like home.
Kathy watched him for a moment as he looked at the food like he was evaluating it more than tasting it.
"You're really not used to this, huh?" she said.
"To what?" he asked.
"This," she gestured around. "Normal stuff. Street food. Sitting outside. No meetings."
Brad looked at the people passing by.
"I'm used to different environments," he said carefully.
"That's a polite way of saying 'no.'"
He didn't argue.
That was becoming a pattern.
Kathy leaned back slightly. "So what do you do when you're not walking around pretending to be normal?"
A pause.
"I work," he said.
"Yeah, everyone works."
"It's not the same kind."
Kathy studied him.
He said it like it meant something.
Something heavier than a job.
But he didn't elaborate.
She didn't push.
Instead, she took a bite of her food. "Well, I run a flower shop. Not exactly exciting, but it pays the bills... most months."
"Most months?" he repeated.
"Sometimes flowers don't care about rent," she said casually.
That made him look at her again.
Not pity.
Just attention.
"You ever think of doing something else?" he asked.
Kathy shrugged. "Like what?"
"I don't know," he admitted.
She smiled slightly. "Exactly."
That made him pause for a second.
Like he understood the point she wasn't saying directly.
They ate in silence for a bit after that.
But it didn't feel empty.
It felt... easy.
Too easy, maybe.
Kathy noticed that thought and didn't like it.
Because easy usually meant temporary.
And she didn't like temporary.
Still, she glanced at him again.
He was watching the street now, expression calm but distant.
Like part of him was here.
And part of him wasn't.
"You always like this?" she asked suddenly.
Brad turned slightly. "Like what?"
"Like you're somewhere else even when you're standing right here."
That question made him go quiet.
Longer than usual.
Then he said, "I don't think so."
Kathy raised an eyebrow. "That didn't sound convincing."
"I'm here," he said.
But it didn't fully answer her question.
She let it go.
For now.
After they finished eating, they walked again.
The sun was starting to lower a little, softening everything around them.
At one point, they passed a small bridge over a quiet part of the river that ran through Hood River. Water reflected the sky in broken pieces of orange and gold.
Kathy stopped there.
Brad stopped beside her.
"It's nice here," she said.
"Yes," he agreed.
Another pause.
Then she said, "You know, this is probably the simplest 'date' I've ever had."
Brad glanced at her. "Is that bad?"
Kathy thought about it.
"No," she said. "Just... different."
"Different good or different bad?"
She smiled slightly. "I'm still deciding."
That made him exhale softly. Almost like amusement.
They stood there for a while.
Not talking.
Just watching the light change — the gold deepening to amber, the amber softening to rose.
And for a moment, everything felt steady.
Like nothing complicated existed outside that bridge.
But then Kathy noticed something again.
A small detail.
He wasn't fully relaxed.
Not really.
He was present.
But controlled.
Like even in simple moments, something inside him stayed guarded.
And that made her curious.
More than she wanted to admit.
Because the easier this felt...
the more it felt like something was being carefully hidden underneath it.