Dad puts his spoon down. “Laurie-girl, I wish you wouldn’t talk that way. You promised you’ll never marry.”

  “A promise I intend to keep, Dad.”

  “What if someone comes along and asks you to marry him?” Dad frets.

  “Well, I’ll say no.”

  He blinks. “You can do that?”

  “What?”

  “You can say no to a man proposing?”

  “Of course I can.”

  He picks up his spoon again, satisfied. “And all these years I thought your mother married me because women weren’t allowed to tell a suitor no.”

  Friday morning Construction Sam walks into The Brandon Knox Photography Studio two minutes after I do.

  “Well, hi there.” I drowsily tug my gloves off. It is thirty-two degrees and overcast outside. I hate mornings like this. Mornings that are cold, gray, and soggy are supposed to happen on the weekend or on a day off. That way, you can sit in your favorite chair with a vanilla coffee and a good book. With a roaring fire in the background. And your dog’s head resting on your feet.

  Sigh.

  It is going to be a long day. I’m going to have to work hard to keep last night’s verses in the forefront of my brain today. “Be very careful, then, how you live — not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity.”

  Ryan smiles and hands me a large coffee he’s hiding behind his back. “Thought you might need this today.”

  I grin. “How did you know?”

  He looks at me pointedly. “You’re Laurie.”

  I take the coffee and give him a one-armed hug. “I think I’ll keep you around.” Coffee in one hand, I can easily make the most of every opportunity.

  His arm wraps around my waist. “That’s the plan, right?”

  I sip the coffee. “You even put sugar in.” A sappy, sticky feeling blooms in my chest.

  “And milk.” He points to the coffee.

  “You gave me coffee with milk and sugar in it.”

  He looks at his boots. “Uh, yeah.”

  I notice something. “Hey! Where’s your coffee?”

  “I drank it on the way over.”

  “So you’re not staying?”

  “There’s a thing called work, Laurie.”

  “You know, I’ve heard of it.”

  He glances around at the dark studio. “You the only one here?”

  “Well, unless Ty and Newton have evolved into night vision goggles, then yep, I guess so.” I sip and smile at him. “This is really good coffee, Ryan. You put just the right amount of condiments in.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Condiments?”

  “Yes. Sugar, milk, and ketchup.”

  Ryan laughs. “I came over here for a reason.”

  “You didn’t just come to see me?” I stick my bottom lip out.

  “Sadly, no.”

  “And bring me legal addictive stimulants?” I wave my coffee in his face.

  “Most definitely no.”

  “What’s up?”

  His brown eyes sparkle in the adorable little-kid smirk. “Do you want to go get dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Sure.”

  He grins. “Really?”

  “No, wait a minute. Let me think.” Long swig from the coffee. “I don’t know, Ryan. I mean, when was the last time you had your driver’s license revoked?”

  He frowns in thought. “Four months ago?”

  “For?”

  “Yeah, four.”

  “No, I meant, why did you have it revoked?”

  “Drug possession, intoxicating a minor, knocking off a bank.”

  “Oh, you’re a funny boy.”

  He leans against Hannah’s desk. “Can you still come?”

  “I don’t know. My dad might get mad.”

  He tips his head. “Wasn’t that a line in a song? Like a Christmas song, maybe?”

  I lean beside him. “I’ll come.”

  He smiles at me. “I’m glad.” Then he reaches over and pats my shoulder. Awkwardly. Like he is petting a crocodile at one of those farms. I’ve done it. I know what it looks like.

  I start laughing. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  I pat his shoulder. “I’m so sorry that your pet cat died, Ryan.”

  He turns toward me. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I don’t know. But we can’t keep this façade up if you pat my shoulder after you ask me out.” I pat his shoulder again for emphasis.

  “Sorry, I’m new at this whole fake-dating thing.”

  “Well, me too, but I still know enough that you don’t pat someone’s shoulder after asking her out!”

  “Will you get off the patting?”

  “Is oo a cute wittle puppy?”

  “Laurie!” He twists away from my hand. “Good grief, woman, I’d better get a reward for this.”

  “I’m sure you will get several jewels in your heavenly crown.”

  He exhales quite loudly and dramatically.

  Long pause as he looks at me. “Can I hug you?”

  “Honey, you brought me coffee this morning. Do you have to ask?”

  I set my coffee on the desk and he gives me a hug.

  It is actually a nice hug — no patting involved.

  Be still my heart!

  “Much better,” I smile after we pull away.

  He winks and turns. “Have a good day at work, Laurie.”

  “Bye, Fido.”

  “Ha ha ha.” He holds the door for Hannah on his way out.

  She walks in with eyebrows raised. “Soooo,” she draws the word out. “I see we had a little early morning rendezvous with Mister Ryan Palmer.”

  I glare.

  She looks behind me on the desk. “With coffee, I see.” Pulls her coat off while I search the available air for words.

  “He was in the neighborhood.”

  Ouch. Never, never in my dullest dreams have I ever resorted to an excuse so lame. I shall curse this moment forever.

  Hannah stares at me like I just said fish sticks come from fish.

  “Laurie, please,” she says, groaning. “That’s a Mr. Rogers comment.”

  “Okay, bad. I know. I have cursed this moment.”

  She sits behind her desk and clutches her hands together in anticipation. “So? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

  “What? What? What?”

  “What happened?”

  I try playing dumb. “When?”

  “Just now, idiot.”

  “He brought me coffee.”

  “How sweet!”

  “Yeah.” I smile, sappy as ever. Drill a hole in my side, syrup is coming.

  Hannah steeples her fingers on the desk while I sit in one of the chairs. “Any particular reason? I noticed there is none for Ruby, Ty, Newton, Brandon, or me.”

  “Well, he is a poor construction worker.” I take a long sip in front of her face, just to slightly rub it in. “Maybe he could only afford two cups of coffee.”

  “And dinner?”

  Nosy, that Hannah.

  I haughtily ignore her. “I believe I have a nine o’clock appointment today.”

  “You’re avoiding the subject!” Hannah sticks a finger in my face.

  Ruby walks in, shaking her curls and shivering. “It’s snowing, girls.”

  I groan.

  “I thought you loved snow,” Hannah says.

  “I do. From my house. With a fire roaring in the background and hot chocolate in my hands and my favorite book open in front of me and a blanket in my lap.”

  Ruby giggles. “And your dog’s head on your feet.”

  “Hey, that’s it exactly!”

  “You’ve got coffee.” She gestures to the cup.

  “Guess where it came from,” Hannah sing-songs.

  Ruby pulls her scarf off and looks closely at the cup. “Looks like . . . Merson’s? What’s Merson’s?”

  “Little restaurant. Good coffee. Nice owner.”

  “From Ryyyyy-an,” Ha
nnah finishes her song.

  Ruby blinks. “Ryan brought you coffee?”

  “Yeah, well, he just dropped by to uh . . . yeah. Anyway, my nine o’clock appointment is late, I guess, but that’s good because I need to set up the studio.” I’m making a run for it.

  “Ryan brought you coffee,” Ruby repeats.

  I stop halfway to Studio One. “Yes,” I reiterate.

  Ruby smiles, nostalgic. “He brought you coffee. You know what that means, right, Laurie?”

  “He knows I’m a deplorable addict?”

  “My baby brother likes you.” Ruby lets out her breath slowly, smiling again.

  “Uh, right. Well, like I said, got to go.” I bolt for the studio and close the door behind me.

  Whew.

  I turn on the computer, sure Ryan planned the whole bringing me coffee thing to completely embarrass me in front of his sister.

  I have got to learn how to play it more cool.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The bell over the door jangles just as Hannah and I finally sit down to lunch at two.

  I look over, ticked off that someone would dare interrupt my affair with the turkey sandwich. Healthy? Yes. At the moment I don’t care what it is as long as it’s edible. I’m starving.

  Turkey sandwich forgotten. Nick stands fidgeting just inside the door.

  “Hiya, Nick.” I wave.

  Nick smiles, the corners of his mouth twitching. Nerves. Whatever he has come here to do will take guts — of this I’m sure.

  “Hi, Laurie,” he stutters. “Hannah.”

  “Hey,” Hannah calls out in a friendly voice. “Got an appointment?”

  “No, no. Uh, actually, I was wondering . . .” He stops, looks down at his shoes, looks back up at us, at his hands, the carpet, us, the ceiling, the back wall, us.

  “Nick?” I interrupt before his poor neck passes out from exhaustion and his head falls off.

  “Yeah. Right.” He lets out a long breath. “Is Ruby here?”

  “Yep,” Hannah answers. “She’s in with a client, though, in Studio Two. Should be done pretty quick. Want to wait?”

  He doesn’t say anything for a long minute before finally walking forward and collapsing into the chair beside me. “Sure, I’ll wait.”

  I watch his foot bounce up and down, up and down, up and down before finally leveling a good swift kick to his ankle.

  “Ouch,” he exclaims, probably more surprised than hurt.

  “Sit still,” I command, lifting my One True Love to my mouth. My stomach growls in protest.

  Two o’clock is too late for lunch.

  “Laurie.” Nick says this suddenly, right as the soft, honey-smelling bread brushes my lips.

  My stomach downright yells.

  I set the sandwich back on the paper towel, clenching my back teeth together. Turn and look at Nick. “Yes?”

  “This will sound crazy,” he blurts. “But I need to practice on something other than my mirror.”

  “Whoa.” Hannah waves a hand. She finishes chewing.

  My stomach says: “Look, Hannah’s eating and talking. Can you not do the same?”

  I say: “No, I am not talented in that way.”

  “Practice what on Laurie?” Hannah continues, chewing dispensed with.

  My stomach gestures toward her in a perturbed manner.

  “My speech,” Nick says.

  “To whom?” I pat my stomach sympathetically.

  “Ruby,” Nick says.

  Hannah raises her hand. “Does it include kissing? Because Laurie’s already taken.”

  Nick chortles. Whether in laughter or in shock, I know not.

  My stomach doesn’t find that scenario very pleasant either.

  “No, uh, kissing.” Nick gasps, reaching for his shirt collar.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to just wait for Ruby?” My eyes are pleading. Practicing a speech such as the one I figure is coming on a person other than the one for whom it is intended is never a good idea. Look what always happens in the movies. If only the hero abstained practicing on his childhood best friend, the heroine would never get upset and never move to Baltimore to fall in love with a different guy, the hero would never have to chase her down and stop her halfway through the wedding, and the movie would be a good hour or more shorter.

  “Practice makes perfect,” Nick quotes.

  “Not always,” I tell him. “One time when I was eight, I won this sticky hand at a carnival and I wanted to try to hit Brandon in the back of the head with it, so I practiced and practiced and practiced, and when I finally got good enough, the hand wasn’t sticky anymore, so it didn’t work.”

  Hannah laughs and whirls around in her desk chair, her shoulders shaking.

  Nick stares at me. “Okay. But this is just a speech.”

  “Listen to me, Nick. Do you really want Ruby to move to Baltimore and be walking down the aisle toward a different guy and you have to run after her?”

  He blinks. “What?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Uh . . . I . . . no, no, of course not.”

  “Good. Then don’t practice the speech. Go in there fresh as the morning dew and win her heart.”

  A wrinkle appears between his eyes. “How’d you know I was going to ask her out?”

  I look over at Hannah, who still has her back toward us. Her shoulders jerk suddenly and her hands go toward her face.

  I put my hand on Nick’s shoulder. “Nicky, I just knew, all right? So. Straighten up. Breathe in. Make the most of the opportunity. March in there with a smile. And find out if June 15 works for her, whether she wants it indoors or out, and what her colors are. Hannah and I can take care of the rest.”

  He frowns. “See if what works in June?”

  “Just ask her, okay?”

  My hands close around my sweet sandwich and once again lift it to my lips. I bite into it, moaning in sheer pleasure.

  Nick watches me with a strange look on his face. Opens his mouth as if he is going to say something, then closes it.

  The door to Studio Two swings open. “Thanks for coming,” we hear Ruby call out.

  “See ya,” a nice-looking man and a pretty woman call back.

  I kick his leg again. “Go, Nick. Now.”

  He takes a deep breath, lets it out quickly, jumps up, half-trips to the studio door, and knocks once on the doorjamb.

  “Did you need something else . . . ?” Ruby’s voice trails off. “Nick.”

  “Hi. Can I talk to you?” His voice sounds fairly calm, but his left hand is trembling behind his back.

  Aw. My pastor is cute in love.

  “Sure,” we hear her say after a moment’s pause.

  Nick walks in and promptly shuts the door.

  I glance at Hannah, who grins back at me. In one accord, we race around the desk and plant our ears against the door.

  “. . . wanted to apologize for the past week.” Nick’s voice is muffled.

  “For what?”

  “The past week.”

  Hannah covers her mouth, her eyes sparking dangerously.

  “I mean, apologize for what during the past week?” Ruby asks.

  “My standoffishness. I was confused.” He exhales harshly.

  She pauses. “Confused about what?”

  “Us.”

  “Oh.” Ruby’s voice is much different now.

  “Do you think we could . . . that is, would you consider . . . uh, do you think sometime we might be able to . . . go get something to eat . . . um, together?” Nick clears his throat.

  I press my head harder against the rough wood grain. Ruby copies Nick and clears her throat as well. “Yeah. That would be nice, actually.”

  “Really?” Nick says quickly.

  I can hear Ruby’s smile. “Yes. Really.”

  “Wow.” Nick breathes. “I mean, thanks, Ruby. I . . .”

  Suddenly everything goes quiet.

  Hannah peeks at me, mouthing, “What do we do now?”
r />
  I shrug. I can feel the grain of the wood impressing a nice design on my ear. It will never be the same. Neither will my back. Kneeling in this position is not something I do every day.

  I hear Ruby gasp. “What was that?” She’s breathing hard.

  My chin hits my knee. “He kissed her!” I mouth excitedly.

  Nick is out of breath too. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . oh boy. Ruby, I didn’t mean to . . .”

  Again, silence.

  “Good grief.” Hannah hisses this in my ear.

  I don’t really know what happens next. One minute we are crouched against the door, the next we both spill onto the concrete floor of the studio.

  “Ow!” Hannah howls.

  I just moan. Look up to see Ruby’s Told-You-So expression.

  “Hi.” I sit up and rub my head, which implanted itself into the cement.

  “Hello, girls.” Ruby raises her eyebrows.

  Even with her schoolteacher tone, I notice the two bright pink spots on her cheeks and the extreme sparkle in her eyes.

  I grin unrepentantly. “Sorry.”

  “You are not,” Ruby says.

  Nick stares at me. I smile at him. “Well, sounds like it went well. We’ll just, uh, finish lunch. So, have a nice chat, you two.”

  I scoot out of the room, dragging Hannah with me, and shut the door.

  Hannah starts laughing the minute the door closes. “Oh, Laurie! It happened! It finally happened!”

  “I know!”

  We hug each other in a congratulatory celebration.

  “Girls!” Ruby yells from inside the studio.

  “I think Bud’s is calling.” I scramble to my feet.

  “Right behind you.” We grab our coats and are out the door before Ruby gets the studio door open.

  We run down the sidewalk to Bud’s, whip the door open, and collapse into the first open table we find.

  Mikey watches us, frowning. “Just pull a bank job, Laurie?”

  “Better than that,” I grin.

  “Knock off a casino?”

  Hannah giggles. Mikey turns red.

  “Hey, you haven’t met Hannah. Mikey, Hannah. Mikey is Bud’s son and my secret pal.”

  Mikey shakes Hannah’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too, Mikey.”

  “So, what did you do?” he asks me.

  “Ruby is kissing Nick in Studio Two.” I laugh in pure excitement. My blood is doing cartwheels through my veins and I feel alive.