Page 23 of Caught Up In You

Five minutes later I’ve got Mrs. Tingle loaded into the front seat of my truck and we’re making our way through downtown to her little white house. “So how’d you do tonight, Mrs. Tingle?”

“I met two nice young ladies who wanted book recommendations, and at my age, I’m just happy to make friends. Though Larry Andrews from the VFW asked if I’d like to go for a cup of coffee sometime,” she says. “And you?”

I shake my head. “Tonight wasn’t really for me.”

“Oh, I think there wassomeonethere for you tonight,” Mrs. Tingle says. “You should work on that girl, you know.”

I shrug. I could pretend I don’t know who she’s talking about, but I respect Mrs. T too much for that. “Unfortunately she’s not interested in what I have to offer. We want different things.”

I feel her eyes cut over to me. “Let me guess—she’s only interested in sex, and you’re a relationship guy?”

I throw my hands up. “Why does everyone keep saying ‘relationship guy’ like that?”

“Like what, dear?”

“Like it’s a euphemism for ‘serial killer.’”

Mrs. Tingle laughs. “See, I knew you had spunk.”

I pull up to her driveway and leap out, racing around to open her door. The truck is high for a woman with a cane, so I offer her my arm to help her out. When she’s got herself situated on the driveway, she turns to me.

“The way I see it, you have two options. You can apply some of that hustle I remember from your high school baseball days, work a little harder, change her mind,” she says.

“Or?”

She gives me a knowing look. “Oryou can change your own mind.”

“Meaning?”

“Don’t be a prude, young man. There’s nothing wrong with a little hit it and quit it,” she says with a wink, and then she turns and heads up the stone path to her front porch.

I climb back into my truck but watch her until she’s safely in the house. The whole time I’m clutching my phone, staring down at the glowing screen. At Wyatt’s text messages from that night a month ago when I got so close. When we were both willing to ignore all the warning signs and take a risk.

Why are we both so adamant now? What has changed?

Nothing, as far as I can tell.

And that’s the push I need.

Owen

Turns out Delilah’s dating a woman she met at her D&D club

It takes a minute for the response to come through, the little animated dots bouncing for entirely too long before I receive her entirely-too-short message.

Wyatt

Were you trying to make me jealous?

Owen

Did it work?

My phone lights up with a selfie of Wyatt, her eyes closed, her tongue out, and her middle finger raised. Her curly bob, dyed lavender now, skims her jawline. My fingers itch to tuck that one rogue curl behind her ear.

Owen

I’m adding that photo to your contact. It’s what’ll appear when you call me

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