Page 91 of The Mr. Right Checklist

PPS: Scratch that. That’s punishing me, too.

PPPS: You’re still not off the hook! Next time there will be consequences!

The tiny heart over the i in Sunshine cuts like a knife, but I know I’m not wrong. There’s love in every line she wrote. As I eye the overflowing drawer, my certainty is inescapable. My father was right. Love doesn’t have to be loud. Her love is in all the quiet things she does. The notes she leaves me, the treats, the socks. It’s in the way she talks about Molly needing pretty things. “I didn’t make the mistake. She did, by writing me off because of a fucking checklist.” Fuming, my heart pounding, I push to my feet.

Molly pops to all fours, tail wagging, following me as I pace.

“She loves both of us. I know she does. I don’t care what her stupid checklist says. She made it before she met us. I didn’t even want a woman in my life before I met her, much less a noisy, messy one. And I sure as hell didn’t want love.”

I don’t even bother with Molly’s leash as I head for the door. “Let’s go talk some sense into our girl.”

I run out the door, and Molly bolts ahead of me, charging down the street and around the corner. I sprint after her, and as I turn the corner, I see Molly running into Destiny’s side yard.

Damn it. Don’t take off now.

I chase after her, staring into the darkness at the field behind Destiny’s house, but I don’t see her anywhere. “Molly!” Where the hell is she? I spin around, and my heart fucking stops. Destiny’s sitting with her legs folded beneath her, her arms around Molly, her face buried in her fur, and Molly’s tail is flapping against the patio, right beside the telescope. As my legs eat up the distance between us, Destiny looks up with tear-soaked puffy eyes and a red nose, twisting the knife in my chest deeper.

“I don’t know what you did with my parents’ stars, but they’re gone. What else are you going to do? Run over my cat?”

“I didn’t . . . No. I’m here to tell you that I heard what you said to Beth about ice cream and me not ticking off anything on your damn checklist. And you know what? If I had been looking for a woman when we met, you wouldn’t have made the cut, either.”

Her lower lip trembles, tears welling in her eyes.

“You’re disorganized, messy as hell, and impulsive to the point of being reckless. You talk in tangents and use candy references that sound like you’re talking about blow jobs to my family. And you love everyone. You’d probably find something to love about the devil himself, and convince the rest of us to love him, too.”

She lifts her chin, tears flooding her cheeks. “I like who I am.”

“I know you do, and you’re holding out for Mr. Right. A guy who ticks all your boxes. I never wanted to be your Checklist Guy, Destiny. Hell, when we met, I didn’t want to be anything more than a guy who was helping you not make the same mistake twice.”

I step closer, lowering my voice. “But that boundless heart of yours drew me in with every tangent, every laugh, every wrinkle of your adorable nose. And guess what, sunshine? I fell in love with you and all those things that make you the incredibly special person you are. I can’t do anything about not having milk-chocolate eyes or neat feet. But you want killer dance moves? I’ll take a class. You want rough around the edges? I’ll stop shaving, get my clothes dirty, and use improper grammar. You want me to learn to fix things? I’m a fast learner. I’ll start hanging out with Marshall more. You want a guy who’s not afraid to talk about his feelings? That’s going to take some time, but I’ll work on communicating better.”

Her brow wrinkles, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I know you want love and marriage and babies. I didn’t think I was capable of loving anyone ever again, but you’ve proven me wrong, and if you hadn’t written me off, who knows what would’ve happened. One day maybe I’d be able to give you the rest. God knows I want to. I don’t know what else is on your list other than a guy who puts love above all else, but whatever it is, I’ll do my best to check those boxes, too.” I splay my hands. “I’m far from your ideal Mr. Right, but I’m asking you to reconsider that ridiculous checklist and give Mr. Try Real Hard, the Orgasm King, a real shot with no expiration date.”

She pushes to her feet, tears flowing. “You’re an idiot, Ryan Fletcher.” She turns on her heels and walks inside.

My gut seizes.

Molly gives me a disgusted look and trots after her.

Fuck. What have I done?

Destiny walks back outside clutching a notebook to her chest, and my traitorous dog sticks to her like glue. “You’re a sucky eavesdropper. You should have listened longer,” she says with a painful mix of emotions. “If you had, you would’ve heard me tell Beth that I made a new list, and it wasn’t for a stupid ice cream sundae. It was for the whole damn ice cream shop.” She thrusts the pink notebook with MR. RIGHT CHECKLIST scrawled across the front in sparkly gold ink into my hands. “Go ahead. Open it. The changes and all the things you inspired are in caps.”

I open it, scanning the modified list.

Not too tall. (Big men, big egos!) (HE’S THE PERFECT HEIGHT!)

Has moves like Jagger BARNEY

Neat feet GREAT HANDS!

Rough around the edges LOVES THE OUTDOORS

Can fix anything KNOWS PEOPLE WHO CAN FIX THINGS

Dark hair and eyes like milk chocolate DIRTY-BLOND HAIR. EYES LIKE THE CLEAR BLUE SKY