Page 88 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

The parking lot drive-in sits right at the water’s edge, a tall, wide screen to the left, the downtown skyline to the right, twinkling across the river.

A drive-in.

“What’s the matter?” she says. Her hand settles on my thigh and squeezes gently. “Still too loud? We can do something else—”

“No.” I shake my head, then glance her way, trying to force a smile even though I’m shit at it.

Juliet’s reaction confirms this. “You look like you’re in gastrointestinal distress.”

A snort jumps out of me. I think I’m in shock. Of all the places, the first time since we started our dates that she’s the one who picks where we go, and this is what she chooses.

A drive-in.

A place that is all but sacred in my family, that has such a special meaning to it, one she has no way of knowing about.

Is this a sign? Or is the fact that I want it to be a sign, in and of itself?

“I’m okay,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “Promise. You just…surprised me real good. I would have bet the truck we were going bowling.”

Her expression turns crestfallen. “Oh. We could totally do that, if you want. Especially since”—she points to the sign at the entrance—“it’s rom-com night. Maybe you’re not feeling that vibe—”

“Juliet.” I squeeze her hand again. “I’m okay here. Pinkie promise.”

That convinces her. Her smile returns as she sits back in her seat and claps her hands. “Eek! It’sHow to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. A fave. Have you ever seen it?”

I shake my head. “But I am obviously a convert to the genre.”

She beams up at me. “You’re gonna love it.”

And she’s right, I do. I laugh at all the antics, at Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson’s absurd efforts to wear each other down that only end up making them fall in love. I tear up at the end. I love the heck out of it.

Fuck, the cloud I’m floating on when the movie ends is almostas good as endorphins after a hard workout. I think I’m about to do a deep dive into rom-coms.

“The love fern!” she says as we pull out of the parking lot. “Like, who thought of that? How can I crawl inside their brain? I feel like any time I try to write a funny moment, it’s not nearly as funny as I want it to be.”

“Are you writing a rom-com?” I ask, switching lanes.

She’s quiet for a beat, then says, “I’m sort of chipping away at a historical romance, but a historical rom-com—at least, I’d like it to be.”

I glance her way. “That’s incredible, Jules. Can I read what you have so far?”

“God, no!” she yells, clapping her hands over her cheeks. “Are you kidding me? It’s a dumpster fire of twenty thousand words that I constantly tweak and rewrite and never go any further than. It’s the last thing I’d want to be your introduction to historical romance.”

I smile as I accelerate. “Well, it wouldn’t be. I’ve now read three historical romances, and I’m hooked.”

“What?” She leans in across the console. “How? When?”

“Borrowed them from my mom—snuck them, actually. She would be an insufferable gloat if she knew I finally caved when she’s been yelling at me to give them a try for nearly two decades.”

Juliet sighs, then says, her voice shaky, “Tell me they haven’t been Highlander romance.”

“I could tell you that…” I throw her a quick smile before I set my eyes back on the road. “But I did pinkie promise to be honest with you.”

•Twenty-Seven•

Juliet

I will not jump his bones. I will not jump his bones. I will not jump his bones.

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