A light pops on above us, over the swing on the cute wraparound porch.
An older lady I recognize from around town peers into the darkness. “Dylan? Dylan, honey, did you sleep in the garden again?”
Oh my God.
“Yeah, Ma,” he calls back.
“Sweetie, are you drunk? Oh, Dylan. Honey. Come on in, and let’s get you put to bed. I’ll make you a BLT while you sleep it off, and then we can talk about what happened.”
“It’sone night, Ma. We don’t have to talk about anything.”
“Sweetie—”
“Not alone, Ma,” he calls while tomato dribbles down his chin.
Oh my Godagain.
He lives with his mother.
Dylan Wright, the adorable, kind, helpful, loyal small-town plumber who apparently has a guilt complex aboutsomething, still lives with his mother.
In the house that I sigh over every time I loop this lake in the daylight.
“I think I might see the first problem in why you didn’t get the girl,” I whisper to him. “But don’t worry, Dylan. Tavi Lightly is on the job.”
Gigi wants me to teach Tickled Pink to support itself once we’re gone.
And I’ve just figured out my way in to doing so much more.
Chapter 7
Dylan
This is a bad idea.
Worse than bad.
Terrible.
It’s been roughly forty-eight hours since Tavi Lightly tripped over my drunk ass at the lake, and after a weekend spent bingeing her TikTok and Instagram feeds, my regrets are growing by the minute.
Unfortunately, so are my hopes.
Can’t get over Hannah if I don’t get back on that dating horse.
Actually, I probably could. But left to my own devices, six years from now I’ll still be debating if I should join a dating app when I get the news from my doctor that I have early erectile dysfunction or something.
It’s time.
Tavi’s called in that favor I owe her, and in the process, she’s suggested this can be my push to getting back out into the world.
God help me.
“Hey, Dylan,” Bridget Miller says as she swings into Café Nirvana way earlier than a teenager like herself should ever be up on a summer Monday morning. She’s about three inches shorter than I am, white,with her dad’s brown hair, sporting rainbow peace sign earrings in her ears and wearing a bright-purple Sparrow County High Allies Club T-shirt. Bridget has the distinct honor of having the best parents in all of Tickled Pink. She was thewhoops-baby result of a one-night stand that brought Teague here to marry Shiloh Denning, whose mother put Tickled Pink on the map when she insisted on shooting and starring inPink Goldhere before I was born. A couple of years after Teague and Shiloh’s amicable divorce, Shiloh married Ridhi. Now, the three of them are coparenting goals, as evidenced by how awesome Bridget is. Plus, how many other teenagers would not only be up this hour on a summer Monday but be heading straight to their stepmother’s café at the same time?
I nod to her. “Morning, Bridge.”
“You look like you ate pickled skunk for breakfast.”
