Page 48 of The Right Kind of Wrong

He was loving this whole thing way too much, and he leaned on the counter, looking between them. “Y’all friendly since Monroe’s gotten back into town, Blake? I don’t think I realized you two ever ran around together.”

Monroe shot him a look. She definitely understood the implication in his words, even if Blake didn’t. “Blake and I are neighbors,” she told him, her voice unthinkingly softening as she added, “She’s been really helpful as I’ve been getting settled.”

He crossed his arms and tucked his hands against his rib cage. “Is that so? Guess that’s why a call to good ol’ Denny has been hard to come by.”

Monroe groaned. “Shut it, Denny,” she said, finally making her internal thoughts known.

Denny laughed, taking a quick hop back in preparation for the smack he knew was coming his way.

Ugh. This whole situation was getting way out of hand. She’d forgotten that making awkward things worse was a key part of Denny’s personality.

Plus, he was the singular person in the world who knew about Monroe’s unrequited teenage crush, and as much as she loved him, she did not trust him to keep his big mouth shut.

She needed to take control of the situation.

Turning toward Mary Ann, Monroe asked her, “Do I need to make an appointment for my car, or can I just leave it with you?”

She didn’t know what she’d been thinking, just waltzing in here today. Granted, she hadn’t expected to see Denny. Or to run into someone who knew her mom.

At best, she’d thought that maybe she could catch Blake and invite her to coffee if she was free. It would be a small, and not nearly adequate, thank-you for all she’d done for her and for Maisie, but Monroe’s mama had taught her manners, and she wanted to repay Blake’s kindness.

Today, Blake was wearing a pair of black leggings that hugged high on her hips, and a tight T-shirt with a flannel tied around the waist. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and Monroe noticed there was a pen sticking through it.

Monroe was distracted by the effortlessly casual look—so much so that she didn’t see Denny’s hand until it was waving directly in front of her face. “Earth to Monroe?”

She blinked slowly, her eyes shifting left toward Denny, who then pointed her to Mary Ann, who’d picked up her keys. “We can fit you in now, if that’s good,” Mary Ann confirmed.

Monroe swallowed, her throat dry from some combination of embarrassment and heat. “That sounds good,” she croaked.

Denny reached over and grabbed the keys from Mary Ann. “Dibs.” He threw them up and caught them before focusing on Monroe again. “My number’s still the same. Use it, okay?” he said, earnest in a way that settled into Monroe’s chest.

“I will,” she promised, meaning it.

He disappeared quickly after that, whistling a tune Monroe couldn’t name.

Even with Denny gone, Monroe almost chickened out, feeling more like her sixteen-year-old self than she cared to admit in the face of a pretty, popular girl.

But she wasn’t that person anymore, she reminded herself.

And Blake was a lot more than pretty and popular, Grown-Up Monroe reasoned. She was a good person, who was also going through hell right now. Showing a little thoughtfulness was the least Monroe could do.

Plus, thus far, Blake had made all the overtures in their friendship, leaving Monroe with the need to expand their one-way street into a two-way interchange.

So, with a deep breath, she stepped up to the counter and pasted on her most charming smile. “I’m glad I ran into you, Blake. I know it’s a long shot, but I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Blake had agreed to coffee, and suggested the place, maybe a little too quickly.

Once they were seated in her pickup truck, she rolled down the window and gestured for Monroe to do the same. “Sorry about the lack of air-conditioning. It’s on the fritz, and I didn’t have the heart to ask Denny to fix it.”

Blake wasn’t sure why, but her face scrunched up when she said his name. Which made no sense because Denny was one of the people who’d been steadfastly kind to her.

But he and Monroe were really . . . friendly, and she hadn’t been expecting that.

Not that Monroe couldn’t have other friends. If anything, it would make her happier in Cypress Falls, and if she were happier, it was more likely that she’d stay in town.

Blake was saved from having to dig into her reaction when Monroe said, with an easy grin, “I’ve survived worse.”