And over the course of a few simple days, Ginny was reminded again and again just how many people she had in her own corner… onherteam. Sadie called daily, cheering her on and offering the kind of support that made her giggle. Like with a large bouquet of caramel apples to celebrate National Apple Day—a holiday Ginny didn’t know existed—and a card that read, “You are apple-solutely irresistible!”
Her brothers-in-law and Dakota had joined in their protective forces and subscribed Ryan to magazines they knew he’d hate. For the foreseeable future, Ryan would be the proud recipient of publications from the University of Alabama, a Hobby Horse enthusiast’s guide, andHap-PEA Veganmagazine. Not to mention the very real glitter mail he’d be receiving from Ginny, scheduled to deliver at some point over the next few weeks.
She could hardly wait.
In some ways, planning silly pranks to tease Ryan had settled her spirit after the monumental hit to her pride. Deep down, she knew there must be an underlying reason for Ryan’s abysmal response to kissing her. One that probably had less to do with her and more to do with Ryan. So Ginny took her mama’swisdom and advice, praying for the desires of her heart to line up with the Lord’s, whatever they may be, and for the wisdom and strength to offer Ryan grace.
Grace… with a side of glitter bombs.
She just hadn’t anticipated how quickly that gift of grace would be put into action.
On Friday afternoon after her daily visit to For the Record, Ginny rummaged through an antique store for a couple pleasant hours, searching for the perfect vintage options for official use as the Sugartree time capsule. She’d settled on a few things at the Peddlers’ Park Flea Market. A couple vases she was pretty sure had previously been used as urns made the cut for time capsule possibilities, along with a tin cookie box with a printed, colorful postcard on the front that saidSass in the Southand had four old ladies dressed to the nines and looking fierce.
She’d also found a collectible Alvin and the Chipmunks metal lunchbox for Lake, a vintage Air Force poster Dakota would love, and a porcelain cat that looked exactly like Gus. She’d giggled maniacally for at least twenty-five of those minutes, planning whose house she’d leave the Gus look-alike in first.
Arms full of vintage options for the time capsule and treasures for her family, Ginny finally fumbled out of the antique store in Honey Hill but promptly ran smack-dab into a chest, hands, and scent that she’d become far too familiar with the week before.
“Oomph,” she huffed and would’ve toppled over completely if steady hands hadn’t grabbed her by the elbows and kept her upright.
“Whoa! Ginny?” Ryan released her quickly. His hands pulled back like they were burned on a hot plate. “I didn’t see you… I mean, I saw you. Of course I saw you, but… yeah. I’m glad to see you. Um, you good?”
“Am I good?” She raised an eyebrow and pinched her lips, letting Ryan sweat before taking pity on him. She thought only a tiny bit about how ridiculous she probably looked standing on the street with her arms full of junk, staring at a man who always seemed to look effortlessly delicious. As usual.
And when a tiny voice in her head—that sounded a lot like Mrs. Mills—said,Kiss him again and see what he does with that!she flicked that wise, but misguided matriarch off her shoulder and stood her ground.
“Like, am I good here or good since you kissed me in my parent’s front yard and then only after kissing me decided that you couldn’t possibly kiss me again, because…” If her hands weren’t full she would have tapped her lips and really sold the dramatics. “Because I’m me?”
“Man, Gin, you just saidkissso many times.” Ryan blew out a puff of air. “Ummm, yes… uh… to all of it? Are you good here right now and um… after?”
“I’m just peachy, Ry.” She adjusted one of the urn vases, shifting the weight from one side to the other. “How ‘bout you, Coach? You doing good? Sucked face with any ladies lately?”
Ryan coughed and nervously ran both hands through his hair. Ginny did not think about those hands tangled in her hair one bit. “I deserve that. I’m… I’m not sure what to say here, Ginny. I’m really sorry. More sorry than you know. I didn’t want to hurt you.” He looked around the street and his eyes landed on Ginny’s parked car. “Can I help you take this to your car? Maybe we could talk.”
She sighed as a drip of unseasonable sweat slid down her face. “Yes, you can.” She let Ryan take a few of the items from her arms and began the short hike across the street to her car. She felt him at her side but refused to look in Ryan’s direction. “Thank you. For helping me and for apologizing.”
“Listen, I made a huge mistake the other night, but I just want to know that we can be friends again. Do you think you can forgive me, Gin? ”
She unlocked her car, placed the items in the backseat before taking Ryan’s load, and then turned back to face him. He’d obviously come straight from work in his tell-tale, Friday clothes—the only day he wore jeans to school—but no glasses, which he saved for the weekend.
“Which part?”
“Which part what?” Ryan leaned his hip against the car, crossing his arms over the henley shirt pulled tight across his chest.
“Which part, ya peacock, was the mistake?”
He sighed and groaned, “Gin…”
“Listen buddy, if you want to be friends, I need to know why you kissed me like the world was endin’ and then decided,ya know what? I think… nah, let’s NOT repeat.Because that kinda thinkin’ is insane. I know you know what happened with Caroline and Griffin. I am not gonna let you do the same thing to me, lean… kiss and run… and leave me wonderin’whyfor forever and all eternity. So, which part of Saturday night was the mistake?”
Ryan’s piercing green eyes made direct eye contact with hers. Like, whoa—I don’t want you to misunderstand me, leave no room for interpretation—eye contact.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Ginny’s heart plummeted. That same ol’, sad Sarah McLachlan song played in her head. She should film her own commercial. A montage of her, unshowered with mascara running down her face, eating butter pecan ice cream out of the carton in between bites of Duke’s corn dogs.
Ryan jutted his hand out, running it down the length of her arm, but then just as quickly put the offending hand in hispocket. “Ginny, I wanted to kiss you. Trust me, I did. I have wanted that for a while now, but I… I shouldn’t have acted on it because you areyou.”
Ginny released an animalistic growl. “What does that even mean, Ryan Hood?” She lowered her voice and raised her chin, “‘Hey girl,love kissin’ ya, but sorry, you’re you.’Barf. Try something else.”
