Practice Makes Perfect

I think Harriet’s right. Will Griffin is absolutely not the kind of man I need.

Too bad he’s very quickly becoming the man I want

I think Harriet’s right. Will Griffin is absolutely not the kind of man I need.

Too bad he’s very quickly becoming the man I want

“Did I ever tell you why I never talked to you before that day in the alley?”
“No,” I say, feeling like I’m in a dream as I gaze up at Will bathed in the warm lights and smiling down at me like the secret to his happiness lives inside my bones.
“Because I knew once I did—it would be over for me. Some part of me has always known I would love you.”

It would be so good. We would be so good together.
But Annie’s not mine.

Suddenly I feel Will’s thumb trace my lower lip. “It’s time to take off those rose-colored glasses, sunshine.”

“Out of curiosity,” I ask later as she’s locking up and I’m walking her to her truck. “What is your favorite flower?”
She drops her gaze to her white Converses and smiles. “Magnolias.”

“Tell you what, Annie. We’ll get you your committed relationship and your white picket fence, and if for some reason it doesn’t feel right and you want that adventure after all—” He looks at me. “Call me and I’ll come hold your hand on the flight.”

James clears his throat. “Why do I feel like I just missed out on an important opportunity?”
Because you did. Now, get lost, she’s mine.

“Our Annie is a sweetie, you know?” He’s saying it in a cheery tone, but there’s an edge to it that I don’t miss. Unspoken words of warning: our Annie is a sweetie, so don’t mess with her, or I’ll cut off your balls with the chain saw we have on sale today for 50 percent off.

To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.
—Audrey Hepburn