Page 115 of Your Every Wish
He looks into my eyes, and I can see all the things he isn’t saying. All the things I’ve been feeling, and I force myself to look away.
“What would you tell her, Emma? Because I know you. I know what’s in your heart. You’d tell her to forgive him. To give him a second chance because if she does, it’ll be the best decision she ever made. He’ll spend the rest of his life making her happy.”
There’s a lump in my throat and my eyes well with tears. “I forgive you, Liam. I do. But everything else . . . everything else has been set in motion. It’s what I always wanted and now it’s mine. I can’t undo it, Liam. I don’t want to undo it.”
But as I walk away, I wonder if I’m lying to myself.
Kennedy
“You’re like a bad penny!” Bent shouts over the blaring of “Monster Mash.” “No, I don’t want to dance.”
That’s not why I tapped him on the shoulder.
“If we’re going to be partners, I thought it would be good to set some ground rules before I head off for Vegas.”
“I can’t hear you.”
I tug his arm and lead him across the makeshift dance floor and around couples dancing until we’re standing outside. “Lame costume, by the way.” He’s got on his usual cowboy getup—a hat and a pair of black, pointy-toed boots.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?” His eyes linger on my dress, which is a lot tighter and shorter than it looked on Amazon.
“A ghost.” I wave my hands over my white face because isn’t it obvious? “I said, ‘If we’re going to be partners, I thought it would be good to set some ground rules before I head off for Vegas.’ ”
“You want to do this at a party? When are you leaving?” he says as if he can’t wait for me to go, which is BS. Emma says he’s half in love with me. I doubt that but the chemistry is there, there is no denying it.
“In a couple of days,” I tell him. “Do you have a schedule for the renovations?”
“Not on me.” He seems to reconsider. “Come with me.”
“Where? I shouldn’t leave the party.” The truth is I won’t get very far in these shoes. They’re four-inch stilettos, another ill-advised Amazon purchase.
“We’re just going to my truck.” He points to the lot a few feet away.
I follow him and manage to hoist myself into his cab without a wardrobe malfunction. I feel like a teen, sneaking away from the prom to make out with my boyfriend.
He reaches into his back seat where he stows a laptop, turns it on, illuminating the dark cab, and calls up a file of a 3-D schematic of the park. It makes me wonder if he started working on this even before we made our deal or whether he stayed up all last night sketching it out. The plan is pretty intricate.
“Wow!” The pool has been upgraded with new tile and stamped concrete decking. He’s added a dock and gazebo at the pond along with a collection of picnic tables. In the drawings, all the bocce ball and tennis courts have been revamped and the clubhouse has a new shed roof that gives it a contemporary look while still maintaining the whole mountain vibe.
“Are those cobblestone streets?” I lean over him to zoom in on the elevations, brushing his shoulder with mine as I move closer to his computer monitor to get a better look.
For a minute we both freeze, my breathing temporarily suspended. Then he ruins the moment by talking. “Yeah, it might be too much.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. It’s charming. Gives the place a littleje ne sais quoi. You know, something extra.” Oh God, I’m rambling.
“We’ll see. I’d like to start in the next week or so. It would be nice to have the pool and pond ready by summer. In the meantime, maybe we can start filling some of the vacant spaces.”
“Why are you single?” I blurt out.
“What makes you think I am?”
I can feel my face turning red through all the white paint. “Uh, I just assumed . . . never mind. Just forget I said anything. The plans look great. We should get back to the party before we’re missed.”
I swing open the passenger door and am just about to hop out when he says, “How comeyou’resingle?”
“Because I like it that way.”
“Yeah, me too.”
