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19.1
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FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 20- Isabel
The sunshine, my bestie, and the taco I’d just inhaled were giving me new life. Sure, it was awkward and painful seeing Boston every time I turned around, but I was starting to feel less sad and more frustrated with myself. Why couldn’t I just forgive him already? He said he was sorry, he’d begged me to forgive him, and I was still holding on to a grudge.“I think I might be a grudge holder, Ash,” I announced as I swallowed another bite of taco.She snorted. “Are you just now figuring that out?”“Hey! You’re supposed to be my best friend.” If the shredded beef taco hadn’t been so good, I might have thrown the last bite at her.“I am your best friend, dummy, that’s why I’m agreeing with your assessment. Remember when Samantha passed you a note to pass to Thomas Sax in third grade and you got in trouble for it?”“Ugh. Don’t remind me. I had to do an extra book report all because that little twerp wanted attention from a boy who ate glue.” I got worked upjust thinking about it. I hated
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 20.1
A flicker of recognition sprang to life in me, and my stomach clenched. “Oh no,” I muttered. I had a bad feeling about things. This was sounding a lot like what happened with me and Chad at the wine festival. To everyone else, this was just a rag-tag theater production, but I could sense something bigger happening up on that stage.The pig took the mannequin’s hand and her arm fell off. The audience gasped and Boston scrambled to pop it back on. From behind me, poor Frank bellowed something I couldn’t quite make out. Boston successfully got the arm back on and cleared his throat, clearly determined to continue this truly horrific play.“Allow me to woo you, lovely maiden?”Well, there was a blast from the past. I hadn’t heard the word “woo” in a while. But there was no time to consider it because the play marched on.“I am willing to be wooed,” the mannequin said.Mom, Dalton, and Lincoln all reached below their chairs and picked up signs that had been lying face down on the stage. Mo
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 21-Boston
Holding El in my arms, I could almost forget that we were on a stage in front of an entire crowd of people. She held my gaze with her beautiful blue eyes and my entire world felt right when I pulled her close, ghosting my lips across hers.El let out a tiny whimper, and it pulled at every nerve in my body, sending lightning through my veins as I pressed my lips to hers. The kiss was a claim, a decision, and a promise, and it was equal parts tender and desperate. I wanted her, but not just in my arms and hopefully one day in my bed. I wanted her at my side, in my life.“I love you, El,” I told her, breaking the kiss. “So much I’m not sure what to do about it.”“Just kiss me some more,” she suggested, “and we’ll go from there.”The crowd around us had broken into wild applause, and I began to be conscious of the fact that we were still in the midst of a very public spectacle. I thought I’d had just about enough of being the center ofattention, but when I finally got to my feet, keeping
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 22- Isabel
And I had to admit, the tasting room had never looked better.The clock hit two and I spun around, taking it all in. “It looks fantastic, Pam! That bride is going to be over the moon.” I glanced at the front door. “If she ever gets here.”Right on cue, the door opened and Ashley walked in. “Hey—oh! Wow. You’ve outdone yourself, Pam.” She gazed around at the décor and then grabbed me in an iron grip. “You’re coming with me. We gotta discuss some wine stuff.”I frowned, but hustled after her, lest she rip my arm out of the socket as she towed me to the back room. “What is your deal? The bride will be here any second and I promise you we have the wines sorted.”Ashley spun and held my hands in hers. “Are you sure? I think we should have an extra sparkling wine. I think this bride might be a drinker.”I tilted my head. Something was off about Ashley. “You okay, Ash? You seem jumpy. Odd, somehow.”She looked away and I knew something was up. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.Where’s the sparkling win
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 23- Lincoln
“Okay.” I tried for a smile as I stood. But my cheeks ached from all the fake smiling I’d been doing for the last hour. The red-headed woman, who I was pretty sure was at least twenty years older than I was, looked confused. “Okay?” She stood up from the table across from me, a paintbrush still in her raised hand. “Right,” I said. “Goodbye then.” “Um,” she said, glancing around like maybe she thought she was being pranked. “Goodbye?” Her name was Kami, and a lot of the things Kami said sounded like questions, but technically should have been statements. It was one of the things that made me certain that this setup—like every single one of those my mother had orchestrated so far—was not going to result in any kind of happily ever after. “Yep,” I confirmed, since she insisted on continuing to look confused. “Okay,” she said. I took that as agreement and picked up my latest hastily painted ceramic frog and delivered it to the tall dark-haired girl behind the counter, who offered m
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 24-Hannah
The house wasn’t much to look at, but I had to admit the landscape was nice. Okay, fine. More than nice. I’d never been on a nicer run than through the vineyards of Solano Creek. And if I said “nice” one more time in my head I was going to scream.Aged cheddar was nice. That moment when I took off my Paint it, Pal apron at the end of an excruciating shift with screaming toddlers was nice. My life, though? Shouldn’t it be described with a better adjective? How about exhilarating? Perfect. Beyond compare. I wanted more than just a nine-to-five until I shriveled up and died. If anything, life so far had taught me it was a fickle beast. I‘d better get to living now if I wanted to squeeze something more than “nice” out of this existence.Which was why I was here, in the middle of a town I knew nothing about, in a tiny house that held nothing familiar yet had my name on the deed. Thank you, Aunt Betty, for the gift in your will. A pang of guilt hit me, but I pushed it aside. I had too many
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 24.1
Yes, I was talking to hardware now. I’d been living alone so long, I had to make friends where I could. At least I hadn’t stooped to the level of the guy who had come in to paint last week with a mannequin sitting across from him. That had given me the creeps, but the guy was perfectly nice. Maybe I should rethink my stance on mannequin companionship.Things were looking up when my old cherry red Honda Prelude started on the first try. She only let out one backfire as I rumbled down the long driveway, giving me a sense that maybe today was my day. I’d gotten in a great run. I’d remembered to pick up some protein bars at the store the other day and felt decently fed going into work. Things were going to change today. I could feel it in the way people waved hello as I entered the downtown area. It was in the late-summer sun that warmed me through the window of my tiny car. And it was definitely a good sign when a parking space opened up right in front of Paint It, Pal as I swung down Ma
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 25- Lincoln
Jessica was the kind of woman that had always scared me. A lot. She was like a caricature of a woman, something put together by a maniacal cartoon artist who had a vague impression that women should have long nails, big hair, very red lips, and wear dresses. But as much as I liked to see a pretty woman who had all of those things, there was something about Jessica that took it too far. Way too far. The nails were too long. The hair was too done. The lipstick was… well, it was terrifying. Too red, I guessed. But I’d survived every other setup my mother had arranged. Statistically, I would probably survive this one too. It wouldn’t be easy though. I sat down at the table with my frog and my blue paint, Jessica kind of hanging off one side of me as I did so. Luckily, she wasn’t a big woman, because I was supporting half her weight as she hung from my side the way a remora attaches itself to a shark. But this didn’t feel symbiotic. “So strong,” she purred as she settled next to me and
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