“The subject came up while you, Connor and Ron were getting food at the bar the other night. Anne, Haley, Mia and I started talking about your upcoming birthday. I mentioned that you’d never had a surprise party and it sort of evolved from there. They asked me to put it together, which wasn’t that difficult since Anne’s family volunteered the venue and Haley took care of inviting people. The rest was just a matter of ordering food and cake and doing the decorating.”
She laughed softly. “We didn’t think you’d particularly want to do craft projects or play games, so we chose mingling, eating and roasting for tonight’s entertainment.”
The “roasting” part had been Ron’s idea when he’d heard about the plans for a surprise party. All of the study group and a few other good friends from their class, even a couple of their favorite instructors, had prepared very funny “tributes” to James, which he had accepted with good-natured grimaces. When it had been his turn to make a speech, he had done so graciously and sincerely.
Drawing a deep breath, she plucked a flat, square, still-wrapped package from the pile of open gifts. “You have one more present to open.”
He had probably noticed that there had been no gift from her at the party. Not everyone had brought presents, mostly his closest friends. Shannon hadn’t wanted him to open the one from her in front of the others, so she had smuggled it in among the other items she’d carried up to his condo. “I know your birthday is still technically a couple weeks off, but since we’ve been celebrating tonight…”
“You didn’t have to do this.” His hands brushed hers when he accepted the gift, his fingers lingering over the contact long enough to make her pulse trip a little.
She had to silently clear her throat before answering, “I know. I wanted to.”
She still wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing by buying this gift. Not just because it had taken a sizable bite out of her budget for the next month, but also because she wasn’t at all sure James would like it. She had deliberated before buying it, then again while wrapping it, even while carrying it through his door, and she still wasn’t certain she’d made the right choice.
Maybe he sensed her qualms—or maybe they were written all over her face. Unlike James, she had never been very good at masking her emotions. He frowned a little when he tore away the blue-and-silver-swirled wrapping paper.
Her fingers interlaced rather tightly in front of her, she focused intently on his face when he studied the gift, trying to read something—anything—in his unrevealing features. Feeling a little light-headed, she realized she was actually holding her breath and she made herself release it. “Well?”
He raised his dark eyes to her face and though she couldn’t quite read his thoughts in them, she suddenly sensed that she had made the right choice, after all. “I love it,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want you to be sad when you look at it.?
?
“It doesn’t make me sad,” he assured her, cradling the small, framed watercolor in his skilled hands. “My memories of my grandmother are happy ones.”
She had half expected the little painting to be gone when she’d returned to the art gallery earlier that week. But the little garden scene of roses and a watering can, surrounded by a somewhat rustic, five-by-seven frame, had hung exactly where James had first spotted it. “I hoped you would feel that way about it.”
“I do.” There was still little expression on his face, but she thought there was just a slightly husky edge to his voice now. Possibly a sign that he was touched by her gift?
It bothered her that after all they had shared during the past six weeks, he still kept his deepest emotions hidden from her. It was just as well that she wasn’t hoping for long-term from him, she told herself with a hollow feeling deep inside her chest. That would be too frustrating for her in the long run. She could tell he liked the gift, and she sensed that he was affected by her gesture, but for all she could determine from his face, it meant no more to him than the books, photo frames, pens and notepads he’d received at his party.
She supposed it was unfair of her to have hoped for more from him than he’d given those people who had known him so much longer, who had shared so much more with him than a few weeks of play and a few nights of passion. It was completely unreasonable for her to think that she and James had shared something during these past six weeks that had reached a special, formerly inaccessible part of him.
They were only having fun while he prepared to leave the state in pursuit of his future career. They’d actually spelled out the terms of their friendship—no strings, no loss of independence on either part, no plans for the future. It was exactly what she’d told herself she wanted and he needed.
An old adage popped suddenly into her head. Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said lightly. “I hope you find a place to put it. Rustic country doesn’t exactly fit in with your modern decor.”
But then, neither did she, she thought with a twinge of self-pity she immediately rejected. She must be more tired than usual after a hectic week and a long, busy day.
“Actually…” James set the little painting on the table and reached out to snag a hand around her waist. He pulled her toward him, his lips only an inch from hers when he finished, “I think it fits in perfectly.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she melted into his kiss. If this was the only way she could truly communicate with James in the short time they had left together, then she would take full advantage.
Shannon was not looking forward to Sunday brunch with James’s parents, and she suspected she wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it from him. She gave him an anemic-feeling smile as they approached the glass door into the lobby of the upscale downtown Little Rock hotel where they would meet the elder Stillmans. “I’ve heard the Sunday brunch here is amazing, though I’ve never tried it. Have you?”
“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s good,” he acknowledged. “Don’t look so nervous, Shannon, it will be fine. We won’t stay all that long.”
She smoothed a hand somewhat nervously down the front of the green skirt she had worn with a matching cami and a fitted, three-quarter-sleeve patterned jacket. She’d dithered over what to wear for longer than was her usual custom, finally settling on a new fall outfit that she considered nice enough to be respectful yet casual enough that she didn’t look overdone. Or at least, that was the effect she was going for.
She had pinned back her red curls and covered a few freckles with a light touch of makeup, but she’d finally made herself stop fussing over her appearance. She doubted that his parents were going to make up their minds about her based on what she wore.
“I’m not even sure why I’m here,” she said in a low voice to James as they crossed the carpeted lobby toward the elevators. “I mean, you and I are just friends. They understand that, right?”
“Of course,” he replied a little too smoothly. “And I’ve got to be honest with you, I asked you along mostly because you have a talent for keeping a conversation moving. My parents and I run out of things to say to each other after a few minutes and it gets rather dull. You are never dull.”