“Perhaps he has a dark past that you remind him of, which scares him. Honestly, the possibilities are endless,but if I had to bet, most likely he’s just a really great guy who's into you—and maybe he’s just gentleman enough to want to take it slow.”
“Take it slow? Vivian, we’re here for what? Eight more days? I don’t think going slow is an option. If I’m going to even consider doing this, I think we need to pick up the pace a bit.”
“Here’s what I think you should do. Pretend this morning never happened. You are unbothered by the near kiss. It’s not even on your radar. Wear cute clothes that make Luke drool and pretend like it doesn’t even matter. You’re just here to live your best life. It won’t take him long to come crawling because, girl, you’re irresistible.”
“Not true,” I interject. “All the men I dated before very much resisted me. I think I need a shirt that says, ‘Maintain a ten-foot distance at all times.’”
Viv rolls her eyes and ignores my comment. “Look, if this is a guy you want to tickle your sexy spot, then you need to care less and live your life like you’re not hanging on every interaction with him. He’ll come crawling. They always do.”
Rachel chooses that exact moment to bring our mimosas to the table. She looks between us and sets our glasses down.
“Want me to bring the bottle back?”
“Sure do. Thanks, Rachel,” Viv answers.
“Oh my goodness! She heardallof that.” I plant my face in my hands.
Rachel comes back with the bottle, pauses for a moment, lips pursed, before deciding something.
“I’m sorry. I overheard a little of what you two were talking about.”
Yup, there it is.
Viv looks up, very interested in her insight, while I can feel my face flaming red all over again.
“I agree with your friend. You act like whatever happened—or didn’t happen—with the guy isn’t a thing. Dress cute, maybe cuter than usual but keep it casual, and he’ll come running. Theyalways do. Nothing makes a guy hungrier than a girl who isn’t chasing him down.”
“She gets it!” Viv reaches up to give Rachel a high five.
We spend the rest of breakfast giggling and reminiscing, sipping, and ordering more to munch on. Each time Rachel comes to check on us, we steal her time a little more and learn she’s an art teacher at the elementary school in town. Through the café, she hosts a paint and sip night on Fridays. It’s a small crowd who takes part, but occasionally some tourists join too, she says. So, we reserve a spot, even though I’m a terrible artist.
Nineteen
UNCLE UKEY
Luke
“Come on, ya little monkey. We gotta get these flowers for Nana.” I drag my foot along the ground trying like hell to finish my errands while Piper, my niece, sits on my foot with her arms wrapped around my leg. What a sight we must be. I reach down and scoop her up under the armpits and deposit her on my shoulders. She squeals and tap tap taps me on the head with her tiny hands.
Mo’s Florist Shop is just up ahead. The burst of color from the flowers displayed around the outside of the shop is a dead giveaway.
“Uncle Ukey, can we get ice cream?” a little voice asks, tugging the strands of my hair.
“Lukey, Piper, LLLLLLukey.” Try as I might, I cannot get this girl to pronounce her Ls. “And no can do, kiddo, your mom would not be happy if I got you ice cream before lunch.” Her weight drops onto my shoulders as she slouches in defeat. No chance she’s giving up that easily though. I’ve got a good three more asks before she really thinks I’m serious. By then, I almost always cave.
We’re nearly at the florist shop when a tinkling laugh ringsout across the street. My eyes scan the area for the familiar sound and find Liv and Viv sitting at an outdoor table at the cafe on the corner.
Liv is wearing a navy blue sundress, her golden hair cascading down her back in loose waves. She and Viv clink their champagne glasses and laugh again, the sound hitting me like an arrow to the heart. My mind floods with the memory of this morning, her body against mine, my hands grazing her silky skin.
I was so close,so close.
Too close.
If it were possible for me to punch myself in the face for jumping away from her the way I did, I would. The rejection that flashed in Liv’s eyes—before she wiped the look away and schooled her features with practiced ease—was enough to make me want to scoop her right back up again and tell her how my heart feels like it’ll leave my chest when she’s around. I’d confess that I know she’s leaving in a week, but I would love nothing more than to see her every day while she’s here, just to know her better. My lips would have found hers, and I would have proven to her that the last thing I wanted to do was reject her.
In a different life, maybe.
Another tug on my hair pulls me back. “Uncle Ukey?”
