Page 7 of From Wink to Kink

Tyler laughs, reaching over to ruffle my hair. "Whatever you say, sis. Now, who wants to arm wrestle for the last piece of garlic bread?"

As the conversation devolves into playful bickering and more hockey stories, I sit back, fear, excitement, gratitude, and just a tiny spark of hope swirling in me.

Maybe, just maybe, this Costa Rica thing could be my ticket to a fresh start. Or, knowing my luck, it could be a disaster of epic proportions. But hey, at least it'll make for a good story.

If only I could afford it.

“I’ll race you to a game of Scrabble,” Tyler says, extending a hand for me to vacate the dining table.

“Well, I was gonna help clean the dinner dishes. And besides, don’t you have to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow for practice?” I ask.

“I got the dishes. Go play,” Lucy calls while my dad just gets in her way trying to help.

Tyler opens the Scrabble box and gestures for me to join him across the coffee table. “Yeah, I do have to get up early. But it doesn’t take long to beat you, so I’m sure I’ll be home and asleep within the hour.”

Such a lie. I nearly always win.

But tonight is not one of those nights. My brain is elsewhere—only I’m not really sure where. I do know it’s not in Dad’s living room where I’m sitting across the table from Tyler, who whoops my butt.

Lucy plops down on the sofa next to me and throws an arm around my shoulders. In spite of my attempts to act like nothing bothers me, I drop my head on her shoulder, and I have to admit, it feels good. She doesn’t replace my mother, not that anyone ever could, but she is making a damn good big sister. I can’t wait for Tyler and her to get married and seal the deal. That way she’ll be well and truly stuck with the Brooks clan.

3

RUBY

I’m lazingin bed the next morning after tossing and turning most of the night. I want desperately to say something pointed and memorable to Tod about his unceremonious brush off, but after considering about a hundred different ideas, I can’t choose the best one. I jot them into my phone to run by Matthew, the undisputed king of snark.

Error 404: Feelings not found. Also, I think you meant to leave that note on your computer monitor, not on my door.

Just read your note. Good news! I've upgraded to a newer model with better compatibility and enhanced features. Thanks for the memories, beta version.

Received your breakup post-it. Please note, your trial relationship has expired, and we regret to inform you that we will not be renewing. For any further inquiries, please consult your nearest dating manual.

I’m feeling pretty good about these. I have a few more minutes before I have to hop in the shower, so send my snappy comebacks for Matthew’s immediate consideration. As I pat myself on the back for inventiveness, a text notification comes in from an unknown number.

Huh. It’s from the retreat center. The one in Costa Rica, where the librarian retreat is being held. And it’s confirming my reservation.

What the hell?

I call the number listed in the text message, hoping to God nothing got charged to my credit card, which is almost maxed-out, thanks to my blue clogs. The nice man on the phone seems eager to help even though my Spanish is non-existent, and his English is just so-so. After a couple starts and stops, and some giggles, I’m able to understand that someone called and booked a reservation for me.

Oh holy hell. Did Dad spring for this? I won’t accept it. I can’t. He’s retired for cripes’ sake, living on a fixed income.

Then the man on the phone saysTyler. Tyler Brooks.

Well, that makes sense. But still.

I thank the man for his help, wanting to cancel but—knowing Ishouldcancel—but I’m unable to pull the trigger. Everything tells me to turn down this gift, or loan, or charity, or whatever the hell it is. But a teeny little part of me starts taking a mental inventory of my bathing suits and other beach clothes, and I remember that hot little green bikini in the back of my dresser that still has its Macy’s tags on it.

Tyler u goof. What have you done?**

Rubes. Just say t-you and shut up

T-you and shut up

Ur such a dork

Wow. Just wow. Looks like I’m going to Costa Rica.

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