Page 12 of Forgotten Romance

“It will be good for me too.” Having Davey home is always a godsend, and not only because I like looking at his butt.

“It’s not healthy that you guys still live together.”

“It makes the most sense.”

“So you say.” Tonya lightly grabs my arm. “We love you, Mack. We’re like a family here, and I know you miss Davey, but Rhonda said this guy was all goo-goo eyes for you, and you deserve to have someone look at you like that.”

“Davey used to look at me like that.”

“But he doesn’t anymore.”

I gently shake her off. “Goo-goo eyes are all good in the beginning, but even if I did date Luke, he wouldn’t look at me like that forever. Am I supposed to give up on my marriage because we’re not silly idiots over each other anymore?”

She raises her eyebrows and looks at me in concern. “No … you’re supposed to give up on your marriage when you’re not actually married.” She lifts her hands like she’s surrendering. “I get it. Butt out.”

“Thank you.” It occurs to me she’s not the only one lately who’s given up on trying to warn me away from Davey. It’d be nice if I could find someone who was one hundred percent on my side. Art is supportive, but it’s against his better judgment, so I don’t feel completely okay confiding in him.

I think of some of my other friends in the divorced men’s group that Art and Barney started. They’re all awesome, but Davey is friends with most of them as well, so it’s a delicate topic. Payne is anti-marriage after his first one went to hell. Griff would rather talk about sex than romance, and Keller is way too logical. His advice would be to flat out ask Davey if there’s any chance there, but that would never work. I need to be sneakier than that. Cleverer. Davey needs to come to the realization that he needs us himself.

Orson could potentially be team Mack, but I don’t think he’d want to go behind Davey’s back with it.

What’s the world coming to that a guy can’t even get his friends on board with a little parent trap romancing? If only Van and Kiera were older. They’d be all too eager to lock us away for a romantic dinner together.

Probably.

The people I work with have heard too much about my heartbreak after the divorce to be Team Davey either. I’d started work here not long after the ink dried on those contracts, needing something to distract me from the shithole my life had fallen into. I knew I should have bottled all those feelings up instead. Damn those healthy emotional habits.

So now I have no one to talk to, when all I need is just one person in my corner, cheering me on, telling me I can do it, and talking me through the noise when I start getting doubty.

I’m sure Davey is my person, so why is it so fucking hard to find one other person who thinks so as well?

I finish sorting the books, then help set up for the princess tea party we’re having this morning. Seeing all the little kids come in with their princess dresses and tiaras makes me miss when Kiera would come to these every week with me. A lot of the themed ideas we have were started because I’d been looking for things for her to do, and our library memberships have been at a record high since.

Books are a big part of my life, but bringing the community together is why I’m here. The tea party takes up most of my morning, then Trent Briller comes in just before lunchtime, wanting to talk history as he loads up on World War Two books, and after he’s done, Rhonda needs my help to hold a ladder while she climbs up and dusts off the top of the shelves.

No matter how many times I try to remind her she’s fifty-nine, she steadfastly refuses to let me do it, so I end up hovering awkwardly under her, ready to play catch the granny.

I’m not confident in my chances of stopping us both from crashing to the floor though. By the time she climbs down again and pats me on the shoulder in thanks, there’s stale sweat at my hairline and prickling my back.

Apparently, people gambling with death stresses me out, who knew?

I stop by the front desk to grab my coat and head out for lunch when I pause at the book resting innocently on the table. It’s a shiny new copy of The Hobbit, and there’s a piece of paper sticking out of the top of it.

I tug the paper out and read the handwritten note.

Mack,

What’s a hobbit’s favorite outing?

Going to the Frodeo!

A smile springs to my face.

You’re worth more than what a hobbit spends on food each week.

From, your secret admirer.

My secret admirer? Is this a joke? Given the book and the note, I’d say it’s not so secret. Still, even if I’m not interested in Luke like that … happy vibes come alive in my gut. It’s nice. The attention and knowing that someone thinks that highly of me.

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