Page 5 of Just Say Yes

He swatted a hand at me. “They like that nowadays. My friend Greta says the bookish ones are intodarkromance.”

I closed my eyes. “Please stop talking.”

He hooted a laugh. “It’s the Bluebird Book Club—downtown Outtatowner. If you hurry, you can still catch her.”

Indecision gnawed at me.

“You can sit here moping, or you can find her. Women love a man who admits he’s an idiot.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Grandpa shrugged. “Worked on your grandmother. God rest her soul.”

I was embarrassed that I’d assumed MJ was a sex worker—and said that to her face—but who could blame me? It wouldn’t have been the first time my grandfather had pulled some wild shit because he got bored.

Still, I couldn’t get the genuine look of hurt that crossed her pretty face out of my mind. I pulled up the map app on my phone. “What was the name of it again?”

“Attaboy,” my grandfather said. “Bluebird Books.”

When the vague directions to downtown came up, I frowned.

“Go get her, son.” Grandpa chuckled.

With a shake of my head, I left my grandfather behind looking all too pleased with himself.

* * *

Outtatowner wasthe kind of coastal Michigan town I was familiar with. Having grown up in Western Michigan, it was the kind of place you visited in the summertime, fighting crowds of tourists for a spot on its pristine freshwater beaches.

After high school, my blossoming rugby career had taken me across the country, and it wasn’t often I found myself back in my home state. Still, Michigan had always felt like home.

It was dark, but when I crested a small hill, the downtown strip of Outtatowner came into view. My truck slowed at the four-way stop. Off in the distance, about a half mile down the road, Lake Michigan’s inky waters sparkled in the moonlit darkness. The roadway cut through the quaint little tourist town. Mom-and-pop shops dotted the sides, but nearly all the storefronts were locked up for the night. A bar on the corner had a few patrons coming in and out, but otherwise the town was quiet.

I scanned the app on my phone and noted the bookstore was just ahead. I swung my truck into a parking space, and my heartbeat ticked higher when I saw MJ, still dressed in sky-high heels and a tiny dress, stomping up the sidewalk toward the bookstore.

I didn’t want to scare her, so I called out. “Excuse me!”

Her head whipped around, and her long hair tumbled down her back. When she recognized me, her eyes rolled toward the night sky. “You have got to be kidding me ...” MJ moved to turn away.

“Wait,” I called out. “Hold up.”

She kept walking toward the bookstore. “Leave me alone.” She yanked open the door, and I caught it with my hand.

“I just want a second.” All I wanted to do was apologize, but the tiny firepot in front of me was making that all but impossible.

Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a dangerous spark in her hazel eyes. A spark I had no right liking as much as I did.

“Howdareyou follow me!” MJ’s chin was high and her fists were clenched, like she was ready for a fight.

Inside the bookstore the lighting was dim. I followed MJ through the low stacks of books toward the back, where her book club seemed to be meeting. Women of varying ages were sitting in an eclectic assortment of plush seating arrangements.

Their jaws hung open as they watched me follow MJ deeper into the store.

“Relax, Thunder.” A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. “You might hurt yourself if you keep stomping around like that.”

“Thunder?” she shouted, stepping forward. Because I was so much taller, her chin lifted higher, but she didn’t back down.

Oh, I like that.

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