“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
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
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
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
“You got it. Sure thing. Enjoy that paint.” She practically shouted these words, and her voice had gone oddly stiff. She might be good at selling ceramic frogs and paint, but she was a terrible actress. “Thanks,” I said, and before I turned back to Jessica, I saw the girl pull a phone out of her back pocket and head to the back. Salvation was near. “I missed you,” Jessica warbled, and as I put down the paint, she captured both my hands in hers, practically pulling me across the table. My life flashed before my eyes. “Lincoln, honey,” she went on. “I have an instinct for things, and I really feel like you and me? Like this is something real. Something special.” My phone dinged in my pocket and I extricated one hand from Jessica’s, giving her an apologetic smile as I pulled it out and saw a message from a number I didn’t know. Unknown number: HUGE emergency. You need to abandon your frog and get going. Immediately. (before she proposes. Or eats you.) I had to stifle a chuckle at th
I shouldn’t have asked him. I should have sent him a quick “you’re welcome” and moved on with my life. But I made the mistake of glancing up and viewing the green kitchen appliances from the couch covered in thick plastic where I currently sat, and I got desperate to check out of my life. To just spend a few minutes talking to someone else who might have things worse than I did. I mean, his life must be horrific to keep putting up with those ridiculous dates in the search of “the one.”Tall, Dark & Desperate: To understand the mysteries of this life, one must first understand Pam Cunningham.I searched my brain for every notable female I’d learned about in my women’s history class in college, but came up empty. Me: I could Google her…or you could just tell me…Tall, Dark & Desperate: She’s my mother. And she’s persistent in ways not understandable unless you are her progeny. She has four sons and somehow has it in her head that we all need her help finding our match.I groaned and se
I had a girlfriend. Okay, a fake girlfriend. It was still a pretty novel concept for a guy who’d been on his own for a very long time.By choice, of course.I went to bed that night struggling with the concept. In one corner of my mind was Hannah’s encouraging smile, the warm one she’d given me as I’d finally escaped Paint It, Pal this afternoon. That smile lit up something dark and deep inside me, but I really didn’t want to think too much about that. It made me uncomfortable, and stirred up some dusty memories. In the other corner of my sleepy mind was my mother, her shining eager eyes as she pursued her relentless quest for matching up each of her boys. I could only imagine how thrilled she would be when I introduced her to Hannah, though my memory of Hannah’s poor acting skills had me a little worried. And I didn’t want to hurt Mom by having her find out I’d tried to pull one over on her. So it would take some finesse—not something I excelled at. I woke up to the persistent vib
I’d just gotten out of my paint splattered jeans and T-shirt when I heard tires crunching over the gravel driveway out front. My brain knew this wasn’t a real date, but tell that to my feet practically dancing right off the old hardwood floor that needed to be sanded and refinished. I threw on a cropped sweater and ripped jeans, heading to get the door on bare feet. There was no doorbell, and I wasn’t confident in the front door withstanding a knock from a grown man, so I figured I’d better meet him as he got out of his car.“Hey, boyfriend!” I called out as I stepped onto the front porch.Lincoln looked up as he unfolded his frame from one of those quiet electric cars that snuck up on me when I went on my runs. He smiled at me, a lock of his thick, unruly hair sliding onto his forehead. With the vineyard behind him and the golden hour sunlight filtering through the trees in the front yard, he looked like he was posing for a magazine.“We might need to work on our nicknames,” was all
Me: Guys, we need your help. Rae is leasing the Chest R. Cheeses next month and I’m going to need some muscles to get it into shape for her studio. Can I count on you to help?Lincoln: Dude. I’m almost finished with Hannah’s cottage. I’m practically a general contractor by now.Dillon: Well, I would, but I don’t live here. Maybe I can squeeze in a weekend?Boston: Of course we’ll help. But first, I need to get everyone together for an announcement before Dillon flies out. Can you make it to the winery at seven tonight?Everyone agreed to meet, but I was more focused on the fact that they agreed to help Rae and me. Now that we were back together and better than ever, I wanted to get her set up in her new space as soon as possible. Her business was exploding, especially after someone posted a snippet of the flash mob on TikTok yesterday. Fans were going berserk about us being together in real life.My phone rang and I picked it up, even though I didn’t recognize the number. Quite frankl
For two days after the flash mob, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Every time I closed my eyes, Dalton was there, dancing and singing with half of Solano Creek. It was the perfect gesture, and I’d heard there was stiff competition between the Cunningham boys when it came to romantic gestures. And every time I wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing, my hand found the little gold key around my neck.We’d gone to dinner after the flash mob, along with Dalton’s family and mine, and the little Italian place we’d chosen had given us all free appetizers when they learned we were the ones who’d been dancing and singing out on the promenade.And after dinner? I’d gone home with Dalton after picking a few things up at my place. And so far, I hadn’t exactly left. We agreed it was too early to make big decisions, so no one was giving up an apartment or anything. Not yet. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to spend every second I could with the man I knew I was meant to find.“You look ha
I didn’t know how Rae did it. Stepping up on stage for dance performances every few months growing up. I thought for sure I’d puke just getting everything set up for my make-or-break moment at the Promenade. If I thought about actually having to dance in front of everyone at the end of this ill-thought-out shindig, I just might lose my breakfast.“Don’t jack it up now, brother,” Dillon clapped me on the shoulder and gave me a shake. “Dude, you look a little green.”I didn’t like the way he was peering at me, like I’d grown a second head. “You try throwing it all on the line for a girl with everyone you know—and people you don’t know—watching you. You’d be a little green around the gills too.”Dillon flinched back. “Yeah, no. No way would I do that for a girl. Nope. The trend stops with you three.”He had a valid reason for concern. Us Cunningham brothers were notorious for putting on quite the spectacle to get the girl. When I’d hatched the original plan with Lincoln, it had grown leg
The days felt like they were dragging by. Like the kind of dragging weighed down by heartbreak and disappointment, by uncertainty and a little bit of self-loathing thrown in for good measure. The glass on the front of the studio hadn’t been fixed. I’d spoken to three glass shops and the landlord of the building, and evidently there was some kind of glass shortage in Solano Creek.“All those wine bottles we make here,” the landlord surmised.“I doubt that’s it,” I told him, pacing my apartment again. I could see a faint track worn into the brown rug where I’d been pacing regularly for days. Soon I’d probably go right through the floor. I needed to dance. I needed my life back.And I didn’t know if I needed him, but I really wanted Dalton. But my pride was still up and every time I picked up the phone I ended up talking myself back into anger. He didn’t understand me. And if this had been bad, it would only get worse if we dragged this thing out.Or that’s what I’d been telling myself r
Twinkle Toes: I think so.I shut the screen off and tossed the phone on my nightstand. I couldn’t look at it any longer. I’d stared at our last text exchange so many times over the last few days I had the whole conversation memorized. Staring at it didn’t make the pain go away, nor did it provide answers as to what had gone so epically wrong. I mean, that had to be some kind of relationship crash and burn record right there. From I love you’s to broken up in twenty-four hours. Maybe Rae was right. I should probably stick to the light and funny stuff. Leave the grown up, complicated adult things for everybody else who could clearly handle them better.I was late for work, but who would really care? Boston was still on his honeymoon and Leslie was probably organizing his tackle box for the inevitable fishing trip right after his retirement party. My phone vibrated and my heart decided to gallop out of my chest, thinking it was Rae. But it wasn’t. Probably would never be again.Dillon Th
Inside my apartment I sank heavily onto the little couch I’d inherited from my grandmother. The cheery floral pattern was completely at odds with my mood. I leaned back into the dusty embrace of the yellow roses, my spine releasing some of the indignant tension I’d been holding there.What had Dalton been thinking? Was my studio a complete joke to him? How could he expect me to just pick up the whole thing and drop it down into the center of a Chest R. Cheeses? The place had been a total circus. I could still hear the shrieks of kids screaming over the maniacal music they’d piped in to float above the roar of the arcade machines.I was a classically trained ballerina. And while I didn’t expect Dalton to understand all the various implications of that and what it meant to me—about me—I did think he had respect for what I did. For the fact that I was running an actual business, and doing it increasingly well.But maybe I’d been wrong. Both Dalton and my dad had decided I couldn’t contin
The rollercoaster of emotions over the last twenty-four hours had me up at dawn, energy crackling in my veins when I should have been sleeping in and enjoying my weekend. After we got Rae’s studio cleaned up last night, she’d gone home to her place, stating she was incredibly tired and needed rest. She’d been so busy with teaching and hiring, and now the added stress of a break-in, I didn’t push her to stay at my place. Plus, her parents were standing right there and I didn’t think that would make the best first impression. But her parents were on my mind now.I’d had an epiphany somewhere around three in the morning as I lay in bed trying to sleep. I’d gotten Rae into this mess by choosing her videos to duet to win my bet. I needed to get her out of this mess. The guilt of being the impetus for all of this would eat me alive if I didn’t make things right. I couldn’t undo what had been done. I couldn’t make her suddenly less TikTok famous. The only thing I could do was protect her goi
I’d never been the sappy type, not really. Sure, I could get a little choked up listening to music or when the corner bakery got the devil’s food exactly right. But this was different. As the Cunningham brothers proceeded down the center aisle with El’s bridesmaids on their arms, a little knot of emotion formed in my throat.Lincoln and Hannah went first, then Dillon and El’s friend Ashley. Dalton appeared next at the end of that long aisle, and my heart expanded inside my chest. He walked El’s friend Gigi down the aisle, but his eyes found mine in the crowd, and held fast nearly the entire time. When he took his place at the front, near the arch of white flowers, I realized I’d been holding my breath, and I let it go just in time to turn back to see El stepping out from the back and to the head of the aisle, her mother Robin at her side. El looked gorgeous—glowing and bright, her hair curled and shiny, and her dress was a satin sheath clearly made just for her. She gazed around, but
I adjusted the fancy tie around my neck for maybe the hundredth time that morning, unsure if my nerves were for Boston and El, the best man’s speech I’d need to give at the reception, or because I intended to man up and tell Rae exactly how I felt about her today. So many times over the last week, it had been right there on the tip of my tongue. The three little words that seemed so inadequate for what was going on inside my chest whenever I was around her, or thought of her, or caught a sweet jasmine scent that reminded me of her body lotion I was obsessed with. I hadn’t been looking for her, but she’d danced her way into my heart nonetheless.Was it too early to tell her I loved her? I mean, we’d only been dating for just shy of a month, but it wasn’t so much the time, it was the depth of what we’d shared. We were working on a shared goal, each of us supporting the other. To her, I wasn’t just the funny guy. Everything about us together was just plain nice. Maybe the word nice wasn’