Page 67 of The Mr. Right Checklist

“It won’t. You’ve got this, sunshine, and I’m happy to help with whatever you need. But if you think you’re going to get out of telling me about your baton-twirling days, you’ve got another thing coming.”

She grins, swaying to the country music. “I’ll tell you about my foray into baton twirling, but I’m starving. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, but I’m fine.”

“Don’t be silly. You can share my dinner.”

“You just said you were starving.”

“Yes, but you know me. I brought plenty of food.” She grabs the wicker basket, chatting as she starts emptying it, laying out napkins, a plastic plate, fork, and cup, and a thermos, all of which pique Molly’s interest. “My baton-twirling days were a dangerous time. I wasn’t very good at it, and it didn’t last long.”

I move Molly to my other side. “Dangerous for more of your mother’s lamps?”

“Among other things.” She unwraps a sandwich and a brownie and sets them on the plate, while I take the lid off a container of cut-up fruit and fill the cup with iced tea from the thermos. “Like my neighbor Ronnie Clampton’s nose.”

“You hit him with the baton?” I set the cup in front of her, and she hands me half of the sandwich, like we’ve been picnicking together forever. “Sounds like sunshine’s got a dark side.”

“The fool tried to kiss me after he’d asked Ruby to be his girlfriend the week before.” She takes a bite of her sandwich. “You don’t mess with a girl’s best friend and come out unscathed. I lost baton privileges after that.”

“No kidding.” I chuckle and take a bite of the sandwich. “So, why baton twirling? Did you know you were going to need a weapon, or did you have dreams of performing in Rosebell’s Thanksgiving Day Parade?”

“We didn’t need batons to be in our parade. Rosebell is only about as big as a fist. Ruby and I rode on the floats nearly every year.”

“I bet you were adorable in a cute frilly dress with flowers in your hair, wielding a baton at rascally kids who tried to climb onto the float.”

She laughs. “I didn’t learn to twirl so I’d have a weapon. I did it because when I was in fifth grade, Taylor Wrigley moved into town, and I wanted to be just like her. She was fourteen, and I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.” As we finish our sandwiches and start in on the fruit, passing the fork back and forth, she gets a faraway look in her eyes, like she’s envisioning Taylor. “She had pitch-black hair and bright blue eyes, like yours. She could sing pretty as a songbird and dance like she was born with rhythm and grace running through her veins, and she twirled the baton like nobody’s business. I was completely smitten with her, and so was every other kid in town. When Taylor walked down the street, everyone noticed.” She takes a drink, then hands me the cup.

“She’s got nothing on you, sunshine. You’re hard to miss.” I take a sip and give it back to her.

“Bless your heart, but I know I’m no beauty queen, and that’s okay. Kids used to make fun of me because my mouth was too big for my face, and my mama told me that they were jealous because I had my own unique look, and they were just run-of-the-mill cute.”

She reaches for the brownie, and I put my hand over hers, drawing her attention. “You have a gorgeous mouth, and you know I’m a bit obsessed with it. Your mother was right. There are beautiful people everywhere, but I’ve never seen another woman shine as bright as you.”

She gets a dreamy look in her eyes, and her shoulders drop a little. “You’ve got to be careful saying nice stuff like that, Ryry.”

Her use of Ryry makes me smile. “Why?”

“Because we’ve got a good thing going, and I don’t need to get all confused about our friendship.”

“We’re sleeping together, but I can’t tell you how pretty you are? That makes no sense, sunshine. Besides, you’re the one who said you always say what you feel.” I wonder if she’d end this arrangement if she knew how much I’m holding back.

“I know what I said.”

“In any case, I think you’re safe. I don’t recall seeing Grumpy Gus on your checklist.”

She studies me, dark brows knitting. “Know what I think?” She sits up taller and picks up the brownie, giving me half.

I lift my chin in question and take a bite.

“I think you’re about the best guy friend a girl can have.”

“Right back at you, sunshine. Especially now that I know you can bake brownies that rival the ladyfingers at La Love Café.”

She nibbles on the corner of the brownie. “My checklist just got a little longer.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I have to add CALLS ME A CUTE NICKNAME and SAYS REALLY SWEET THINGS.”