Page 32 of Checking Mr. Wrong
I’m already there.
I laugh, shaking my head. She’s got a way of pushing me just far enough to keep things interesting.
Liar.
This time, her response takes a little longer.
Maybe.
That one-word answer does something to me. It’s not much,but it feels like an opening. Something a little softer, maybe even honest. I lean against the counter, my thumbs hovering over the screen. Keep it cool, Tremblay. Keep it cool.
I like talking to you, Mabel.
I hit send before I can second-guess it. The dots pop up immediately, then vanish, then reappear.
You’re not the worst.
It’s her way of admitting she feels the same without actually saying it. I can’t help but smile.
Wow. High praise. I’ll take it.
Don’t let it go to your head.
Too late.
Then, because I can’t resist, I add:
Sweet dreams, Mabel from Maple Falls.
Don’t tell me what to do.
That’s the last message. She doesn’t send anything else, and I don’t either. But as I toss my phone onto the couch and grab my glass of water, I realize I’m still smiling.
She might have sharp and pointy edges, but she’s fun to talk to. There’s a tenderness bubbling below the surface, I can feel it.
And, yeah, I like it a lot more than I probably should.
CHAPTER 11
MABEL
Main Street’spretty quiet this time of day, just a few cars parked along the curb and a couple of locals chatting outside the bakery like it’s their full-time job. Ice Breakers captain Jamie Hayes walks beside me, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, answering my questions like we’re just two old friends shooting the breeze instead of me grilling him for a story.
“So you played with Coach Hauser in college?”
“I learned everything that I took with me into my career from him.”
“Kind of a full circle moment, then, getting to play with him now?”
Jamie grins. “You took the words right out of my mouth. Can you quote me on those?”
“You bet,” I say with an easy laugh as I hit a button on my phone to stop recording our conversation. “And thank you again for your time.”
“Thank you.” He puts his fist out, and I bump it without hesitation. “It was fun.”
With an easy wave, Jamie heads off, striding down the sidewalk with that effortless confidence captains seem to come preloaded with. A couple of kids zoom by on bikes, calling out tohim by name, and he throws them a quick wave, stopping to chat and take a few photos for a sec before moving on. It’s like he belongs in every inch of this postcard-perfect town.
I turn back to the door of Falling for Books, where the sunlight glints off the freshly polished gold lettering. I stand here, caught in my own head, as the door swings open and Willa steps out, nearly bumping right into me.
