Page 47 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Older. More muscular. He had a strong jaw now, covered in a trimmed beard, but he was wearing that same dopey grin he’d always had, and he still hadn’t managed to grow into his ears.

Her best friend—her only friend, really—from high school swung open the half door at the end of the counter. He wasted no time picking Monroe up in his arms and spinning her around, which was no small feat given her height. Still, he was at least half a foot taller than she was, and he lifted her easily. “Well, goddamn! Monroe Lockhart, as I live and breathe.”

“Language, Denny,” Mary Ann chastised the grown man, watching the scene play out with interest.

“What in the he—” He looked toward Mary Ann with an amusing amount of fear for the woman, correcting himself to, “the heck are you doing back in town? Big city life not all it’s cracked up to be?” he asked, leaning back so that he could look at her.

God, where did she even start?

When Monroe moved to New York, she’d basically cut contact with everyone except her mom. She’d had a prepaid cell phone whose plan hadn’t left a lot of room for casual updates to Denny or for keeping tabs on Dean, beyond what she got from her mom.

With a quick inhale, finally, she found a starting point. “My mama passed away a little while ago, and I’m in town, taking care of my niece, Maisie.” She was surprised to hear the soft, Texas lilt in her voice. It was so easy to slip back into the past, especially with Denny, who’d been her confidant for years.

She didn’t know how that made her feel, so she focused on the concerned look on Denny’s face instead. “Shit, Roe. I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry.” He looked at Mary Ann. “Did you know that?”

“Well, not realizing that you two were thick as thieves, I didn’t think to update you,” Mary Ann said, looking curiously at their closely pressed bodies.

Denny waved her off even as he didn’t let Monroe go. “It ain’t like that, Mary Ann. Not everything is one of your tawdry soaps.”

“Tawdry, Denny. Really?” Monroe laughed, realizing how much she missed the ease that she’d always felt with him.

Things in New York weren’t ever easy. Maybe financially these days, but definitely not emotionally.

He squeezed her arms lightly, smiling. “You look good, the reason that you’re in town notwithstanding. I can’t believe that you didn’t call me.”

Monroe blew out a breath. “I know, D. It’s just been crazy getting settled and taking care of Maisie. My brother’s daughter,” she clarified, not sure how much he knew.

Denny’s eyes grew wide. “Are you staying? In Cypress Falls?” he asked, excitement laced through his tone. Then he schooled his features, watching the conflict flit across Monroe’s face. Lowering his voice, he whispered, “Are we not discussing this right now?”

“Let’s catch up soon, yeah?” She didn’t exactly trust herself not to word-vomit all of her anxieties into the air around them.

Blake had unknowingly unlocked something inside of her, and instead of feeling turned inward, her energy was pulsing outward, looking for ways to connect. To make sense of this new life and how exactly she was going to manage it without weekly breakdowns.

Speaking of which . . .

The door leading from the garage area into Mary Ann’s counter swung open again, and Blake walked through, head down and staring at a stack of papers. “Mary Ann, Gumby sent me your way. Do you⁠—”

Blake must have felt that multiple sets of eyes were on her, as she looked up, scanning the room. Her first glance was to Mary Ann, whose brow was furrowed, likely in expectation of whatever Blake had been about to say. Then, Blake shifted her attention to Monroe and Denny, who were still locked in their embrace.

“Monroe?” Blake blurted out, like she was interrupting something.

Which was ridiculous. First of all, Mary Ann was with them, and second, the fact that anyone could think she and Denny were anything more than friends was preposterous.

Even so, Monroe took the smallest step back from Denny, creating space between them. Which was even more ridiculous.

She and Denny hadn’t been doing anything untoward. More importantly, she and Blake weren’t anything to one another.

But that didn’t stop the flush that wrapped itself around Monroe, heating her up in spite of the air-conditioned room.

No one else could see, but Denny wiggled his eyebrows at her, so Monroe punched him in the bicep and finally stepped away from him. “Blake, hey,” she said, sounding like a complete idiot. “I was stopping in to get an oil change. Plus, my car was making a weird sound on the way home from Austin. I figured that it would be a good idea to get it checked out.”

Her eyes were on Blake, clocking her response, but she could see Denny from her peripheral, grinning like an idiot.

Unfortunately, Blake wasn’t giving her anything to work with except a confused, slightly guarded look.

Denny wasn’t finding himself at a loss for words, though. “Well, Blake would be the one to talk to about your car troubles here.”

“Denny,” she hissed under her breath, seriously thinking about punching him again.