“Number four,” she begins.
I release an exaggerated sigh, folding my arms across my chest. “This is getting pretty long.”
“Number. Four,” she repeats with emphasis, her eyes drawn to the movement of my arms. She tilts her head in considerationbefore blinking several times and looking back at her notebook. “When it’s over, I broke up with you. Not the other way around.”
“Now why you gotta be like that, Lucy May?”
She drops her shoulders while letting out a breath. “Because, Granite, if I break up with you, your family won’t have a reason to hound you about marriage and dating. If you break up with me, then they’ll be on your case again.”
Hm. She has a point there, though it’ll hurt the ego a bit. But also… “Granite? I like it. Better than Pebbles. It’s approved. And you don’t know my family. They’ll hound me either way. It’ll be my fault you broke up with me.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” She finishes writing rule four down before dropping the pen and focusing on me. “Have you given them a reason to believe you would be the cause of every failed relationship?”
“Depends on who you ask,” I respond through a tightened smile. My mother and sister would be lenient on me, but they still say I’m the common denominator problem. The rest of Dasher Valley? Well, let’s just say I have a certain reputation I haven’t bothered to dismantle.
Lucy’s tone softens as she says, “Well, I’ll come up with a good reason that shifts all the blame onto me. Sound good?”
“You’d do that for me?” I… I don’t know if I want to do that to her, but the simple fact that she’d be willing speaks volumes about her heart.
Also, it makes me wonder—as I did on the trip up here—who once decided she was the scapegoat? Or is she justthatkind?
Though she’s a kind woman, I don’t think she’d take to being a doormat willingly…
She smiles. “I don’t know why, but it seems I would. Maybe it’s because you sign my paychecks. Maybe I feel a little bad for dumping crab all over you at lunch. Maybe I regret ruining your pretty face with a cast iron skillet.” Her eyes search my face for faint lingering bruises.
I laugh, despite my growing concern for her. “So be it,” I remark. I’ll decide later if this is the best course of action or not.
Lucy stands and moves beside me, her white skirt swishing and tempting me with wild thoughts. “This is it for now. If I think of any more, I’ll be sure to tell you.” She sets the notebook down and holds out the pen to me. “But first, sign the list here. My sister is a lawyer and future queen of an entire country, after all.”
I take the pen from her, brushing her fingers as I do. I narrow my eyes at her before signing my fun away.
“Will you sign your fun away, too?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes at me before signing below my name. “There. It’s a gentlemen’s agreement.”
“Should we shake on it?” I stand up, offering her my hand. She looks as if it will attack her.
“Not a chance. You’ll linger or tug me close to you or something weird.”
I click my tongue. “How are you already catching on to my schemes, Lucy May?”
“Bro. What in the world are you reading?”
I lift my eyes from the words on the paper that were painting a scene of the male main character taking care of the female main character while she’s sick with the flu. Lucy tends to write about men taking care of women a lot. Is that something she wishes would be done for her?
Yes, I’m taking notes.
However long this lasts between us, until the feelings I have dissipate, as they always do, I’m going to make it worthwhile for the both of us.
My best friend from college, Stanton Holloway, sits down across the table from me at Books and Beans. It’s a small, square building with half of the space devoted to bookshelves and the other half a cafe. Lucy’s books are somewhere in the stacks. I’ve asked Emma Jane, the full-time barista here, to restock them every time I notice she runs out.
I set the cartoon cover book down. “A how-to manual to fully win my girlfriend’s heart.”
Stanton’s pretzel-colored eyes bulge. Speaking of pretzels,when will my food be here?“You have a girlfriend that you’re actually calling your girlfriendandyou’re reading a romance novel to try and win her over?” He pauses and waves his hand in front of my eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my roguish mate?”
Did I mention Stanton is British? He came here on foreign exchange, fell in love with a girl in college, and decided to plant roots. On their wedding day, I pulled his now-wife, Candace, aside andthanked her for keeping my friend here in Juniper Grove instead of running off to England with him like pretty much any other woman would have done. However, I told her I’d miss mine and Stanton’s nickname from college (courtesy of the ladies): S&S, which stood for Sexy Stone and Smoldering Stanton. Candace, graciously, said we could keep it even though Mr. Smolder now has a wife that he could turn all his golden-eyed goodness onto.
I swat his hand away though the grin spreading across my face is one-hundred percent real. Should I continue letting him think I have a girlfriend or should I tell him the truth? Decisions, decisions…
