Falling for Fitz by Katy Regnery

words surrounded them.
    Sweet pea, apple of my
eye, don’t know when and I don’t know why… you’re the only reason I
keep on coming home.
    “ This song.” She sighed,
opening her eyes as a dreamy smile spread across her
face.
    “ This song,” he said
softly, nodding at its goodness.
    “ It’s heaven,
right?”
    “ You remember,
Daisy?”
    “ I remember,” she
whispered, looking from the massive, beautiful grounds of Green
Farms out her window to his burnished blond head beside her. “If I
didn’t know you better, Fitz, I’d almost call this
romantic.”
    “ Go ahead and call it
romantic,” he said softly. “I can’t hear this song without thinking
about you.”
    Her heart leapt, but she warned
herself not to read into his words. Of course he thought of her;
they’d heard it together for the first time ten years ago at a dive
bar in Philly when Amos Lee still sang at open mic nights. Fitz was
referring to their past, not the present.
    “ And you know?” he added,
in a thoughtful voice. “I think you know me better than most,
Daisy. Most people only see one side of me.”
    “ The buttoned-up
side?”
    He nodded, turning onto
Main Street, as Amos Lee sang on: Sweet
pea, keeper of my soul, I know sometimes I’m outta control… you’re
the only reason I keep on coming home.
    “ But I’m more than that
when I’m with you. The night we heard this song? You’d somehow
convinced me it was a good idea to borrow my Dad’s Lamborghini
without permission and go to a dive bar in the crappiest part of
Philly to hear an obscure singer.”
    “ Tell me it wasn’t worth
it,” she teased, rolling her head to the side to look over at
him.
    “ It was worth it.” He
glanced over and grinned, but his grin faded as he added, “It
was all worth it,
Daze.”
    He stopped at the first of
three stop lights, took the hand closest to her off the steering
wheel and extended it to her, palm up. Her stomach flipped over as
she covered it with hers, palm-to-palm, forcing herself to look
away from mix of heat and regret in his eyes. This is all part of reconciling the past , she told herself weakly. That’s
all it is.
    “ Where are we
going?”
    “ We’re almost there,” he
said, his fingers squeezing hers gently. “You said you wanted to
start a bakery last night. A brick and mortar place with cookies,
cupcakes, and great coffee.” He let go of her hand with a sigh.
“You could have it all up and running by the time Dr. M. gets back
to Philly.”
    He pulled into a diagonal parking
space and turned to her. “We’re here.”
    Daisy looked through the windshield at
the little brick, one-story, standalone building in front of them.
It had a white front door with large picture windows on either side
with empty window boxes for flowers built-in below. There was a
brick patio in front of the small building and a white picket fence
that separated it from the sidewalk. A sign over the door, hanging
off one hinge, read “The Toy Chest.”
    In her dreams, when Daisy imagined
starting a little bakery of her own, it looked exactly like this
little place. It was perfect. It was so perfect tears sprang into
her eyes as she smiled at the charming building.
    Fitz had gotten out of the car and
opened her door, offering her his hand. She took it as she stepped
outside.
    “ Fitz,” she gasped. “It’s…
it’s just…”
    She looked up at him beaming at her,
his face pleased and proud as he pulled her through the white
picket gate that led to the empty shop. When they got to the front
door, he let go of her hand and produced a key from his pocket. He
unlocked the door, pushing it open as a little bell rang cheerfully
overhead.
    He held the door for her so she could
enter first, and she walked into the dim space, lit only by the
waning sunlight outside. It hadn’t been clean-swept so dust
bunnies, packing Styrofoam, and some rolled up newspaper littered
the dull, scraped, hardwood floor. It was a clean rectangle of a
room,