Page 36 of Unlucky in Love
Ryan hid a smile. Taylor pressed her napkin to her mouth to smother a laugh. The room settled as people took their seats, plates were passed, and the first volley arrived from his father.
“So,” his father said, carving a chicken with unnecessary flourish, “which one of you made the first move?”
Ryan took a roll. “Define move.”
Taylor choked. Emma slapped a hand on the table, delighted. “Knew it. I knew it would be him. He has been mooning at the café windows like a watchdog.”
“Watchdog?” Ryan repeated dryly.
“Loyal. Growly,” Emma said. “Snacks motivated.”
“Accurate,” Taylor murmured, eyes dancing.
His mother leaned in with the bowl of potatoes. “Was it the coffee shop kiss I heard about from Mrs. Abernathy?”
Ryan paused with the serving spoon. “You heard about that already?”
“This is a town,” his mother said. “News travels faster than the internet.”
Uncle Dave wagged his fork. “I saw it on the neighborhood Facebook group. There were three angles and a slow-mo edit.”
Taylor dropped her forehead to her hand. “I am moving.”
“No you are not,” Emma said, gleeful. “Sit in your joy.”
Ryan served Taylor potatoes and slid the plate back to her, brushing his knuckles against her wrist. Small touch. Calming touch. She gave him a look that said thank you and I cannot believe your family all at once.
His father poured wine and passed the bottle down the table. “Ryan, you remember Tommy Myers from the shop?”
“Unfortunately,” Ryan said.
“Tommy asked me this morning if your girl needs a security detail now that she has two admirers,” his father went on, deadpan. “I told him yes. A very large one. With your name on all the jackets.”
“That man once glued quarters to the gas station floor,” Emma muttered. “No one should take advice from him.”
A cousin leaned forward, eyes bright. “Speaking of admirers. Are we going to talk about the secret scavenger hunt? Because I would like to congratulate whoever is doing the old-fashioned courtship thing. Bold. Slightly creepy. But bold.”
All eyes flicked to Taylor. She tensed almost imperceptibly, then relaxed. Ryan felt the shift and wanted to reach under the table for her hand.
“It has been nice,” she said carefully, sliding her gaze to the mashed potatoes. “Thoughtful. Very…personal.”
Emma waggled her brows. “And yet somehow, Ryan still wins the town vote.”
Ryan took a sip of water. “Mandate from the people.”
Taylor elbowed him, which felt like victory.
“Speaking of votes,” Aunt Lila said. “How did the tally go at the café?”
“Unethical,” Taylor said quickly.
“Historic,” Emma countered.
“Landslide,” Ryan offered.
His mother dabbed her eyes. “I always knew you two would find your way. The way you used to bicker. It was textbook. He only bickers with people he can’t stop thinking about.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Ryan said.
