12 Steps to Mr. Right

by Cindi Madsen

  Crap. Did my heart just thump extra hard? If it did, it was a friends/full of gratitude thump.

  Apparently seeing Linc eat his veggies inspired the lady behind him in line, because she piled a few on her plate. I even grabbed several out of solidarity.

  In a lot of ways, the night was like our Sunday dinners, only with a less formal setting and several extra guests. Conversations weaved from one subject to the next, people joining in and jumping to another partway through. Lots of laughter. Bigger than life stories—Uncle Warren, my dad’s oldest brother, told his famous fishing tale about when he crashed his boat on a sandbar and still brought in a record-breaking striper. When I was younger, the fish weighed twenty pounds, but somewhere along the way, it grew to twenty-nine.

  Here and there I’d check in with Linc via a hand squeeze, look, or smile, but he went with the flow, easily charming my family and their friends. Aunt Velma presented my parents with the surprise cruise, and tears gathered in Mama’s eyes as she thanked everyone. Then the crowd dispersed, most of my parents’ friends left, and I took the opportunity to go talk to my daddy.

  I sat on the arm of his chair and gave him a side-hug. “Happy anniversary.”

  He patted my arm. “Thanks, pumpkin.”

  “I did mention that a cruise might not be your number one pick for a vacation, but I got overruled.”

  “That’s okay. I’m glad, actually. Your mama’s wanted to go on one for years. If she’s there, I’ll manage, even if the thought of being trapped on a ship makes me feel like some sort of inmate.”

  “It’s like the luxury side of prison, though.”

  He laughed.

  “Plus, I made sure they booked the ship with the mini-golf course onboard. Maybe you can sneak out at night and drive a few off the deck of the ship—I’m not sure you can survive a week without golf.”

  “It’s unlikely.” The ice cubes in his sweet tea ratted as he brought it to his lips. “So, the fella?”

  “He’s just a friend, Daddy.”

  “Well, you’re the dating expert, but I think that fella watches you like he’s a little more.”

  I scanned the crowd for the fella in question. He was talking to Jackson—no doubt about sports and other dude stuff—and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Even though I couldn’t hear the conversation, when they smiled, I smiled along with them.

  I could pretend friends was all I wanted, but the instant Linc’s blue eyes found me across the yard, my heartbeats fractured, telling a different story.

  Earlier, I wondered how we could even be friends when he made me so angry. Now I wondered how we could only be friends when a single look could set my body on fire.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Saturday night, after Session Five of my workshop, I somehow ended up standing outside the door to Azure.

  Just because I needed a quick drink. And because my friends worked there. Both Ivy and Linc.

  It had nothing to do with the fact that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Linc and how much fun I had with him at my parents’ anniversary party. Or how when he noticed how tired I was afterward, he offered to drive home and curled his hand around my knee like it belonged there.

  After spending so much time together, I only craved more. I’d even spent my lunch break and the half hour before my attendees showed up for class poring over today’s crossword puzzle. I’d shoved it in my purse, too, in case the opportunity came for me to whip it out and compare it with what he had. Or to maybe steal his answers real quick, as my squares remained rather bare.

  Stupid crossword puzzles and stupid cute guy who has me doing them.

  The fact that he finished them actually confirmed he wasn’t even a little bit stupid. I meant more stupidly frustrating, though, because I couldn’t help wishing that he’d miraculously change, be a boyfriend type guy, and decide he wanted me and only me.

  Hadn’t I just covered Step Nine—which was very clear on thinking you could change a guy? I could sum it up in one word: Don’t.

  Since tonight’s session also delved into when dating began to morph into a relationship, I’d also covered the beginning dos and don’ts.

  I already broke the cardinal rule of introducing Linc to my family, and if I crossed the threshold to the bar, I’d be ignoring one of the other tips I’d given: Let him miss you.

  That wasn’t even getting into the more serious rules I’d be breaking, like, oh, pretty much all of them. But again, we weren’t dating, and I didn’t have rules for friends. Plus, hello, I needed to see Ivy—it wasn’t all about Linc.

  I stopped doing the crazy lady pacing and pushed inside of Azure. As I sat down at the far end of the bar, I noticed Linc talking to a pretty girl at the other end. She laughed, he smiled. I wanted to throw things at both of them. Totally normal when it came to close friends.

  Ugh, for all my talk about knowing better, the guy had filtered through my screen and once again I found myself wishing for things I knew better than to wish for.

  And yet, when he straightened, ran his gaze down the bar, and then did a double take, Hope—that evil temptress—motioned me closer. Whispered in my ear and told me to trust her.

  Linc shot the woman he’d been talking to a smile—no doubt it was his crooked, sexy as hell one—and moved over to me. “What a nice surprise.”

  “I was hungry, and I couldn’t find anything to eat. Or more accurately, making what I had into a meal would take more effort than I wanted to put in.”

  “Well, it just so happens we have the best crab fritters in the city.”

  “Funny enough, that’s exactly what I’m in the mood for.”

  “You want me to bring that peach drink you secretly love, but are considering denying, simply so I’m not right about it?”

  I opened my mouth. Closed it. Frowned. “Now you’re right either way.”

  “That’s really big of you to admit.” He laughed at my dropped-jaw expression and went to mixing. About thirty seconds later, he placed the drink in front of me. “I just realized it’s Saturday night.” He propped his palms on the bar and made a big show of looking around me. “Did you bring your class along with you? Do I need to warn the guys in the bar that a sexy brunette might be destroying their chances with the woman they’re speaking to at any moment?”

  I stuck my lips out in a pout. “That’s not funny.”

  Linc held his thumb and pointer together, a small gap between them. “Little bit?”

  “No. I don’t go around destroying conversations for fun. There’s a purpose behind it, and if a guy shows promise, I leave it alone.”

  Linc cocked his eyebrow, and for once I didn’t find it even a little bit charming, because there was too much skepticism implied in that arch. “I think it’s great that you care so much about your clients, and eating all of those motivational quotes for breakfast has definitely given you a motivational body…” He ran his gaze down me, and a surge of heat that should be irritation but wasn’t rose up. “But I can’t help feeling bad for the guys who don’t have a shot anymore, just because they don’t have it all together or aren’t sure they’re ready for a serious relationship.”

  “That’s not what I do.”

  Another eyebrow raise.

  “Trust me, those guys you’re feeling bad for are getting plenty of action. There are women out there looking for temporary, and that’s who they need to find, instead of stringing along women who are ready for more.”

  “Maybe for the right person they’d change.”

  “It’s a nice theory. Songs and books are written about it. ‘We are all the same, intoxicated by the hope that true love will heal our brokenness. That there is one soul who can hear ours without needing words.’”

  “Damn,” he said in an awed tone that made me temporarily forget that I was trying to make a point.

  “That’s not the truth, though,” I said, as much for my sake as his. “The truth is, you can’t change a person. They have to change themselves.” />
  “Not to start another fight, but I’m not sure that’s 100 percent true. The right motivation can make you change. The right person can make you think things you’ve never thought before.” His eyes met mine, and I lost the ability to breathe.

  “Hey, can I get a drink down here?” the guy a few stools over yelled as he waved his hand.

  Linc pushed off the bar and headed to get the man’s order.

  I sipped my drink and stared at Linc’s profile. Why had I thought coming here was a good idea?

  And why did my defenses shift into overdrive whenever he mentioned my job?

  Maybe because you made several steps because of him, and now you keep breaking them whenever he’s around. There was something more, though. A thread of worry that he was right.

  Ivy came over and rested a hip against the bar. “Dollar for your thoughts?”

  We always used dollar, because our thoughts were worth way more than a penny.

  “Do you think I’m closed-minded about dating?” I wasn’t sure where that came from, and I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

  “You’ve got your reasons for choosing guys the way you do.”

  “So yes, then.”

  “I think you give your clients more of a break for their slip-ups than you give yourself,” Ivy said. “Once in a while you just need pure, forget-about-everything-else fun.”

  “But if you’re not careful, you choose someone who stops being fun around the time he hurts you.”

  “Yeah, it happens. Look, I’m the last person who should give dating advice. But… You and Linc obviously have something, and chemistry like that doesn’t come along every day. I won’t say you shouldn’t be careful, but there’s nothing wrong with letting go of a few of your rules once in a while and living in the moment.”

  After walking the line for the past few years, being a bit rebellious and heading toward the gray area definitely held some appeal.

  “I better get back out there.” Ivy readjusted her ponytail and put on her game face, but she hesitated before walking away. “Just think about what I said, okay? You deserve to have some fun, Savannah.”

  Linc came over and set a plate of crab fritters in front of me. He hesitated, and I automatically sighed, not sure I could handle round two.

  “I just have to ask you one more thing,” he said. “Did that guy who moved—the one you told me about after the baseball game—hit all of your requirements?”

  “Most of them. Which is okay. I tell my students all the time that everyone has flaws and we have to accept them, just like we want a guy to accept ours.”

  He gave one sharp nod, told me he’d talk to me later, and went back to work. As I ate, I kept thinking about the look he gave me before we were interrupted and the words that came right before it. The right person can make you think things you’ve never thought before.

  My brain had a tug-of-war between my goal of having a lasting relationship, and not caring if it lasted, as long as I could keep on feeling this tingly rush each time Linc and I were in the same place.

  Usually when I was on a date with a guy, I spent the whole time reading his body language and reacting accordingly, each move an analytical one. With Linc, my instinctual reaction involved all emotion and very little thinking. Which was as frightening as it was exhilarating.

  He challenged me. I just couldn’t decide if he challenged me in a good way or a bad way. So while I’d recently spent an hour preaching dating dos and don’ts, here I was anyway. Standing on the edge and wondering which way to tip.

  At a loss for what to do, I brought out the other puzzle in my life—the crossword one—and tried to fill out what I could. When the bar hit a lull, Linc came over.

  “Did you already finish today’s puzzle?” I asked.

  He reached under the bar, retrieved the paper, and tossed it on the countertop. “I didn’t have much time today.” He checked the time on his phone. “Tell you what. My shift’s five minutes from done. Let me cash out my orders, and then we’ll go to my place and finish it.”

  Was that code?

  Did I care?

  I leaned forward, sidling up to the gray area side of the edge. “Well, hustle up, then.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You know what your mom said when I told her about my pitching career?” Linc asked as we rode the elevator up to his sixth-floor apartment.

  I hadn’t realized he talked to her much, especially about that. “What?”

  “The same water that softens potatoes boils eggs. It’s all about what you’re made of, not your circumstances.”

  I smiled—I heard that one more than once growing up.

  “And I thought, ah, it all makes sense.” The elevator doors opened with a bing and Linc put his hand on the small of my back and guided me into the hallway. My pulse quickened, and despite knowing better, I couldn’t help but want to live in the moment.

  The hallway was completely quiet and empty of people—guess that was what happened when most of the world was asleep. Which reminded me that accepting an invitation to come over during “booty call zone” hours was also against my rules.

  I could always just chat and do the crossword puzzle and then say good-bye, but it was important to be prepared if the opportunity arose.

  Part of me knew the opportunity would arise if I put myself out there even a little bit. This is either the stupidest idea I’ve ever had or the best.

  I hadn’t felt like such a rebel since Jackson and I snuck into a concert at a twenty-one and up club with fake IDs. There’d been a dopamine rush then, and there was definitely one now.

  Linc unlocked the door to his apartment and gestured me inside. The place was a bit smaller than mine but had clearly been renovated recently, with hardwood floors and granite countertops. A lonely couch faced a large flat screen TV, but other than that, his walls were bare. Even his place showcased a certain lack of committing. Guys who didn’t settle in and decorate—even if it was guy decorating—showed a nomadic tendency. Since he’d only been back in Atlanta for a little while, I supposed that earned him another few weeks, but if he didn’t decorate soon…

  Well, one more red flag to add to the list.

  But we’re ignoring those tonight, remember… I’m not closed-minded. I’m fun. I’m…in over my head.

  A few unhung frames leaned against the wall, and I wandered over and peeked at them. All baseball images, some awards and framed articles featuring him or his team, from college to the Crosscutters.

  “It’s kind of bare right now, but I’ll get to decorating it eventually.” Linc tossed his newspaper on the coffee table. I dug mine from my purse and placed it on top of his. Then we stared at each other, and I didn’t know whether to sit or stay standing, or if I should initiate a move, or if we weren’t doing that. His body language was open, but analytical, like he was studying me the same way I was studying him.

  “I’ve got ice cream,” he said.

  “I love ice cream.”

  He jerked his head toward the kitchen and I followed. He reached into his freezer and brought out cartons of fudge swirl and mint chocolate chip, holding up one and then the other.

  “Fudge swirl,” I said. “I don’t believe in chocolate and mint.”

  “Don’t believe in it?”

  “When it comes to chocolate, I’m a purist. I like it combined with caramel, and occasionally peanut butter, but it doesn’t go with fruit, and it certainly doesn’t go with toothpaste flavor.”

  He gasped the way he had when I’d compared baseball pants to pantaloons. “I don’t know if I can allow you to stay after saying something like that.”

  “I’m not sure I want to stay if you’re going to eat gross ice cream.”

  He scooped a spoonful of the mint and fired it at me.

  This time I was the one who gasped as I dodged the ice cream. Spoon in his mouth, he scooped me a bowl of the fudge swirl, and then piled his bowl full of mint chocolate chip. He cleaned up the melting green blob
on the floor and handed me my bowl.

  “Thanks.”

  We moved to the couch, and he transcribed the answers I’d managed to get into his original crossword puzzle. Apparently we truly were finishing the puzzle. A pang of disappointment went through me, and then I scolded myself. This was good. It showed he didn’t think of me as a hookup girl anymore.

  Well, according to him, he’d always known I wasn’t one. Now I’m over thinking everything again.

  One clue in particular gave us trouble, and without it, we weren’t doing so well filling in the other spaces.

  “That’s it,” I said, after both of our bowls were empty and we hadn’t solved any more clues. “How could I be this bad at finding the answer to fruit-flavored candy? It’s just there are so many options, and with thirteen spaces to fill, I’m not sure if they’re doing the sketchy smoosh two to three words together thing.”

  “The problem is, with that many spaces, you know your standby answer of ‘shit’ won’t fit,” Linc said.

  “I know. It’s annoying and I’m done with it.” I lifted my phone and Linc’s eyes widened.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Phoning a friend. His name is Google, and he knows all.”

  Linc lunged at me. “You can’t do that,” he said as he tried to grab my phone.

  I tried to keep hold of it, even as his massive hand worked on wiggling it free. “Just let me get one answer! We’ll do the rest ourselves.”

  “No. I’ve never cheated before, and I’m not cheating now.”

  “Never? How do you get them all filled out?”

  “I’ve had a few that are left with blank spaces. Then I see what they are the next day when the answers are printed, but I don’t claim them as mine.”

  “I have no such qualms. Just look away and I’ll pretend I came up with it.”

  “No.” He wrenched the phone from me and whipped it behind his back. During the struggle I’d been so focused on keeping my grip, I’d somehow failed to notice we were now practically horizontal on the couch, his body weight pressing me into the soft cushions. Heat rose fast, and when I shifted, he swallowed hard, so I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.