The Good Ones

by Jenn McKinlay

  He stared at her for a moment. He looked as if he was trying to come to a decision. Maisy wondered if the no singing ability really was a thing for him. Maybe he had very strong views about a person’s ability to carry a tune. It could be a total deal breaker for him and there went any plans she had for getting him to reconsider her romantically. Damn it. In that moment, she wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or cry. She feared she was going to cry . . . again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “YOU know I’m from Austin, right?” he asked. He took off his hard hat and set it on a pile of books.

  She nodded.

  “Well, pretty much anyone who is born in the Lone Star state arrives in this world with two things,” he said. “The first is a pair of cowboy boots and the second is a sense of rhythm. It is a little-known fact that most Texans can two-step before they can walk.”

  “I’m not sure where you’re going with this,” she said.

  He reached out a hand to her and Maisy took it. He pulled her up to her feet. He looked her square in the eye and said, “I can’t dance.”

  Maisy sighed. “You don’t have to make me feel better. It’s very kind of you but really not necessary.”

  “Your singing wasn’t that bad,” he insisted. “At least, not as bad as my dancing.”

  Maisy looked at him and said, “I don’t believe you.”

  “No?” he asked. He looked at her and then heaved a sigh of his own. “Okay, I hate to do this, but you’re leaving me no choice.”

  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and thumbed through a few apps. Music filled the crowded room, and to Maisy’s surprise, it was Pharrell Williams’s “Happy.” With an irresistible beat, Maisy started to bob her head. There wasn’t much room to move in the tiny room, which was a mercy, because Ryder’s style of dancing needed to be contained.

  Maisy backed up as he was all swinging arms and bobbing up and down. He even did jazz hands, which made Maisy burst out laughing.

  “What?” he cried over the music. “I warned you!”

  At the clapping part, he hopelessly clapped on the downbeat and Maisy couldn’t help but start singing to his terrible dancing, jumping around with him as the two of them stomped in between the books, singing at top volume, “Clap along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do.”

  Laughing, Ryder grabbed Maisy’s hand and spun her under his arm and then back out. It was awkward and they smashed into each other but she didn’t care. Joining hands, they swung them back and forth, laughing when they knocked knees in the tiny space.

  “What on earth?” Jeri appeared in the doorway with Savannah, Seth, and Perry behind her.

  “Yay! Dance party!” Savy yelled, and began to dance in the hallway, dragging Perry with her. The two of them started busting out some solid hip-hop moves, grooving to the irrepressible song.

  Jeri began to boogie and looked at Seth. He shook his head, but Jeri wasn’t having it. “Come on, big boy, shake what your mama gave you!”

  To Maisy’s surprise, Seth busted out some robot moves that were spot-on. Not bad for such a big man. Then he turned the floor over to Ryder. He gamely stepped into the hallway with the others and began to groove. He was adorably, hilariously awful. So bad that Perry had to quit dancing to put her hand on her forehead as if she could not believe the horror she was being forced to watch. The song faded and Ryder ended with a move that looked like a chicken on an electric fence.

  “Oh, my God, Dad, stop!” Perry pleaded, but she was laughing. Ryder threw an arm around her and hugged her close, putting a smacking kiss on the top of her head.

  “Stop? Who do you think you get your slick dance moves from?” he asked.

  “Not you,” she said.

  “She’s got you there, boss,” Seth said. A mock glare from Ryder sent him trotting away with his hands raised in the air as he said, “Sorry.”

  “Water. I need water,” Savy said. She fanned her face with her hands. “Anyone else?”

  “Me,” Perry said. “And then I’m on George duty.”

  Jeri took out her phone as she followed the other two. “Not me, I’m calling my man. I feel the need for a night out dancing.”

  Maisy watched them all leave. She supposed she should follow them, but she wanted to thank Ryder first. He didn’t have to make an idiot of himself just to make her feel better but he had and that meant something to her. It meant a lot, in fact.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?” he asked.

  “You know,” she said.

  “No, I really don’t,” he said.

  “Your dancing was terrible,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that to make me feel better about my singing.”

  “Are you saying I faked that travesty?” he asked. “I’ll have you know I think I threw my back out, trying to legit groove.”

  Maisy laughed again. He couldn’t be that bad. Really, he had to have been hamming it up for her, right?

  “I was not making it worse than it is,” he said. “Trust me, that was me in top form.”

  “Oh,” she said. She looked at him in concern. “Oh, my.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “You’re lucky I didn’t take out your eyeball with my elbow. Feel better now?”

  “Is it bad if I say yes?”

  He grinned. “No.”

  “Then, yes, I do feel a bit better.”

  “Good.” He studied her face for a moment and then a noise downstairs drew his attention. “I’d better get back.”

  “Right. Me, too,” she said.

  “But, here’s the thing,” he said, standing in front of her as if reluctant to leave. “In the spirit of full disclosure, my inability to fast-dance is inversely proportional to my ability to slow-dance.”

  He winked at her and Maisy felt her insides flutter, as they always did when she was the center of his attention. Was he flirting with her? After a week of being the consummate professional, had her humiliation finally opened him up? She would sing like a freaking canary every day if that’s what it took. In any case, she could not pass this opportunity up.

  She strode forward until she was standing right in front of him. Then she glanced up at him, screwed up her courage, and said, “Prove it.”

  He looked surprised. Then he smiled. It started in one corner of his mouth and moved across his lips in a slow seductive slide. He reached forward and curved one hand around her hip as if it had been made just for him and then he pulled her in close. She could feel the heat coming off his body and she wanted to press herself up against the hard plane of his chest. So she did.

  Ryder thumbed the face of his phone until a new song began to play, “Come Away with Me,” by Norah Jones. Then he set the phone down on a box and slid his hand up Maisy’s back until they were pressed together from thigh to thigh and chest to breast. Maisy couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t care less.

  Ryder lowered his head. He whispered the lyrics against the shell of her ear while they swayed back and forth. Maisy clung to him as if he were the anchor, keeping her tethered to the ground while his very nearness made her feel as if she could float away. It was intoxicating and she slid her arms up and around his neck, holding on tight, wishing the song would never end.

  He moved her in a slow, seductive box step. No frills, no spins, no dips, just two bodies entwined in a seductive embrace. Their eyes met and Maisy felt not lost but found. Was this what it felt like when you met your soul mate? The feeling of being complete.

  Ryder took her hands in his and then pressed their palms together while still stepping in their small circle. It was lovely and perfect. Emotions bubbled up in Maisy as she felt cherished by this amazing man. He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her close, as if he could tuck her into himself and keep her there. Maisy would have let him.

  His hands slid up her body slowly, as if m
emorizing her every curve. When he cupped her face and looked into her eyes, seeing her for all that she was, Maisy was undone. She parted her lips in silent invitation and Ryder answered, pressing his mouth to hers in the briefest, sweetest kiss she had ever received.

  Then he was gone, whistling the tune they had just danced to as he made his way down the stairs. What the . . . what?

  * * *

  • • •

  THREE days later, Maisy was having the mother of all meltdowns. It was the morning of the sidewalk sale, and even though Jeri and Savannah had put flyers up all over town, Maisy was worried that no one would show up, proving that her idea to open a romance bookstore was possibly the dumbest idea she’d ever had, second only to the time she’d bought a vintage Fiat because it looked cool and then had to walk everywhere for a year because it spent more time in her mechanic’s garage than hers.

  In a display of support Maisy wasn’t sure was warranted, Ryder and Seth made an enormous vinyl sign that they suspended from the porch roof. It read HAPPILY EVER AFTER BOOKSHOP and when Maisy saw it, she burst into tears.

  “Well, that’s not the reaction I was expecting,” Seth said to Ryder. “I thought we’d get hugs, not tears.” He stepped back to examine their handiwork. “Please tell me we didn’t spell something wrong. That would be mortifying.”

  “We didn’t,” Ryder said. He looked at Maisy with concern. “We can take it down if you hate it.”

  “No, no,” she said. She fanned her face with her hands as if she could dry up her tears with the wind propulsion from her fingers. “It’s perfect.” The words came out on a sob and the men exchanged a helpless look.

  Savannah arrived and took the scene in at a glance. “Relax,” she said. She threw an arm around Maisy and gave her a bolstering squeeze. “These are happy-dream-come-true tears. You did good.”

  Both men sagged in relief and then made hasty excuses to help Jeri set up the sale tables on the front lawn.

  “Well, that was embarrassing,” Maisy said. She wiped her eyes with her palms.

  “Meh, you’ve done worse,” Savy said. “Besides, this is your big day. It’s natural that you’d be emotional.”

  Maisy stood on the front porch, looking out across the front lawn. “What if no one comes?”

  “They’ll come.”

  “But—”

  “No.” Savy held up her hand in a stop gesture. “No negativity.”

  “But that’s my comfort zone.”

  Savy laughed and Maisy was reassured that she knew Maisy was kidding—mostly.

  “It’s going to be amazing,” Savy said. “Look, we have a customer and we’re not even open yet.”

  It was true. A woman, carrying her own bag, had slipped past Jeri, who was manning the cash register at the front of the yard, and was poring over the table of sweet romances. Maisy had a sudden memory of seventh-grade biology, where she read those same sweet romances tucked inside her lab book, with only her lab partner wise to her secret reading. She still had no idea what the purpose of learning the food chain was and was pretty sure she never would.

  From that one customer, the activity in the yard grew and grew until as far as she could see there were readers crowding the tables, picking up the books, and reading the back cover copy. More and more people were wandering in from the street and in no time Maisy was hustling to refresh the coffee and lemonade and cookies, which they had put on the porch to entice people to linger.

  Chairs had been placed all over the yard to encourage browsers to stay and read awhile. It seemed to be working, because every chair was full and some people had even sprawled on the lawn.

  She glanced over at Jeri, who was happily managing the cash register. The line was five deep and Jeri was chatting and laughing with every person who bought books. Jeri met Maisy’s eye over the heads of eager readers and her grin was huge. Their soft opening was a big success.

  Excited, Maisy stepped into the house and did a fist pump, okay, two. Maybe the Happily Ever After Bookstore was going to get a running start after all. Feeling unstoppable, Maisy grabbed the food from the kitchen and headed back out into the bright sunny day to sell more books.

  Savannah found her an hour later, hauling more paperbacks from the house as the table of historical romances had been practically wiped out. Without a word, Savy grabbed a box and followed Maisy outside. As they stacked the books on the table, a feeding frenzy of readers stood at the ready to snatch their favorites. One of the shoppers was a woman wearing scrubs; her blond hair was tied into a knot on the top of her head. Maisy did a double take.

  “Hannah,” Maisy said. “Aren’t you here to check on King George?”

  “I’m working my way there,” she said. “But this sale is too good to miss. You know what a sucker I am for romances with dogs in them.”

  “Have you read the Bluff Point series?” Savy asked. “It’s got them all: rescue dogs, old dogs, puppies, even a dog in a harness—a basset hound named Hot Wheels.”

  “Show me,” Hannah ordered. She looked at Maisy and added, “I’ll be up to check on George in a minute. A professional woman needs to have her downtime with books that make her smile, because life is hard, dang it.”

  “I hear that,” Savy said.

  “I’ll let Perry know you’re here,” Maisy said. “Come up to the apartment when you’re done.”

  “There in five,” Hannah said. “I promise.”

  Maisy turned and headed back into the house. She hurried upstairs to the hidden room to retrieve Perry and the kitten for the vet. She thought Hannah was going to be pretty impressed at how King George was doing. He had exceeded all of their expectations and while he was still a bit shaky and slept a lot he was also becoming playful and had even attempted a wobbly pounce or two.

  The bench seat to the hidden room was open, so Maisy sat on the floor and swung her legs into the opening. She was halfway down the stairs when she heard a scuffle below.

  “Perry, Hannah is here to look at Geor—oh, hello.” Maisy stepped into the small room to find a boy about the same age as Perry, standing there with his hands in his pockets and an awkward look on his face.

  “Hi,” the boy said.

  Maisy glanced around him to see Perry, standing there, holding the kitten, looking at her with wide eyes and a very red face. Maisy did a quick clothing check and noted that both teens seemed to be buttoned and tucked appropriately. A closer look at Perry’s face and she noted that while she was blushing, she didn’t look as if she’d been making out with the boy.

  “Maisy, hi, this is Cooper,” Perry said. “He’s in my algebra class. We were studying. We have a test coming up. Very important.”

  Maisy glanced around the room. There was not a textbook in sight. She looked at Perry. “Really?”

  “No,” Cooper said. “What Perry meant was that we’re trying to find some time to study together, and I asked to meet King George since he’s all over her Snapchat and he looks like my kitten, Maverick.” The teen held up an orange tabby, with a white belly and paws, about twice the size of George but still very young.

  “We thought George could use a friend,” Perry said. Her face was still bright pink.

  “Ah,” Maisy said. She scratched the orange kitten’s head. It purred and then batted her hand, making her smile. She turned and held out her hands to Perry, who gave George to her. He gave a big kitty yawn and settled against her palm.

  “Perry, are you down there?” Ryder’s voice sounded from above and all three of them jumped.

  Perry spun Maisy toward the stairs and whispered, “Please stall him. I will die, just die, if Dad finds Cooper down here and feels the need to grill him, and you know he will. Please, Maisy.”

  Maisy glanced at the desperate look on Perry’s face. Oh, she remembered the pain of adolescence. “All right, but you both have exactly five minutes to get up there.
I mean it.”

  “I promise,” Perry said.

  “Hey, there,” Maisy called as she dashed up the stairs. “Can you help a girl out and grab this wiggly kitten?” She glanced at George, who was doing his best impression of a sedentary lump, and whispered, “Come on, buddy, help a sister out.”

  Ryder reached out and took the kitten from her. Maisy pushed forward so he was forced to back up from the hidden room’s entrance. She took his arm as he cradled the cat and said, “Come on. Hannah is going to meet me upstairs in the apartment to check on George.”

  “Have you seen Perry? I thought she was watching George,” he said.

  “Yes,” Maisy said. She pulled him out the door and up the stairs to her apartment, never breaking her stride. She didn’t say any more, hoping that was the end of it because she didn’t want to lie to him. Judging by the look on his face, he was expecting more of an explanation. She went for a diversionary tactic instead. “Did I thank you for the sign for the shop?”

  “You were a little busy leaking out your eyeballs,” he said. “But the thank-you came through loud and clear.”

  Maisy squeezed his arm. Wow, his bicep really did require more than one hand to wrap around it, possibly more than two.

  “It was very thoughtful of you guys,” she said.

  They stopped in front of the apartment door and she let go of his arm and turned to look at him. Below, she heard a door open and shut and she knew that Perry had been as good as her word. Ryder turned at the sound as if he was going to go investigate and Maisy panicked and pulled him into a hug, being careful not to squash George as she laid her head on his chest.

  “I really can’t thank you enough,” she said. The warm masculine scent of him made her head fuzzy and she pulled back to get some air and found him looking down at her with a raw longing that made her catch her breath. She wanted him and she knew he wanted her, too.

  Before she could think it through, hesitate, or second-guess herself, Maisy rose up on her toes and kissed him.