Page 20 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

I texted my brothers for some suggestions for mattresses and was inundated with links. Everything from Haydn recommending the bed he and Lia used (which was a fifteen-thousand dollar mattress. I’m sure it was like sleeping on a cloud of money) to Jules reminding me that I had a futon, and hadn’t I just claimed that futons were the best invention in the world?

Bennett came through for me, as usual, and I ordered the bed he linked.

The town was beginning to stir, and I needed to get the shop open before the cruise ships docked.

Charlie and I hidin her bedroom, avoiding Lily-livered, who had just come home from work. Well, I was avoiding her. Charlie loved her cousin and wished we could just get along, but in Charlie’s perfect world, everyone got along.

Lily was singing Lia Halifax’s latest song at the top of her lungs as she got into their shared shower. Who had confidence like that? Really. I’d love her if I didn’t hate her so much.

“Did you kick my mailbox down again?” Charlie called to where I stood in her closet, debating on a suit coat or not. One of Charlie’s newest foster dogs was sprawled out on the rug by my feet. This one looked like a mix between a husky and a wolf.

“I kicked downLily’smailbox.” Satisfaction rippled through me. It really was the little things.

“It’s my mailbox too.”

“There are consequences to rooming with a bad person.” Besides, I knew for a fact that Charlie had her mail sent to the post office, so it didn’t affect her in the slightest. “Someone keeps fixing it.”

“Yeah. Me.”

I cringed. “Sorry,” I said, opting on not wearing the coat. It might look professional, but sweat stains were not sexy.

Charlie eyed me as I turned back and forth to recheck my appearance in the mirror on the closet door. “Is dressing like this necessary?” Gone were the cut-off shorts and hoodie I usually lived in.

Instead, I’d pulled together an outfit perfect for an intellectual night. And an intellectual guy. Which required me to raid Charlie’s closet, since she had all the professional and boring clothes a gal could want.

She tilted her head at me. “Don’t change yourself for him.”

“I’m not. This is just a more polished version.”

Black slacks with pleats. A black and white striped silk shirt that wrapped around my waist and tied in the front. A pair of black pumps. Tiny pearl studs in my ears. And my hair slicked back into a respectable bun. I’d even borrowed a pair of Charlie’s computer glasses and perched them on my nose.

I looked at least ten years older, in a good way.

“Remind me again why you like Max?” Charlie asked as if reaching deep for patience.

I held up a finger to tick off each point. “His good looks, his deep thinking, his generous soul, and his amazing curveball. Plus, he’s not going anywhere.” Maybe the biggest point in his favor. People couldn’t wait to leave Winterhaven behind, but Max’s family was generational. The thought of being with someone so stable was more attractive than I could explain (without looking like more of a weirdo than was readily noticeable already.)

Max was the exact kind of guy no one expected someone like me to get. Where I was artistic, he was bookish. Where I was late and scrambling all the time, he was early and overly prepared. Where I accidentally broke the law here and there, he was straight as an arrow. But opposites attract all the time. And if Max and I got together, it would prove to the whole town (and my brothers) that I was more than the quirky Rosie-shaped box they’d put me in. Being with Max would legitimize me—as a true Winterhavenian and as an actual, responsible adult.

Plus, I can’t overemphasize how cute his half smile is.

“All things he knows about himself too,” Charlie muttered. I pretended not to hear; I liked confidence in a guy. She took a deep, fortifying breath and rallied. “I’m afraid to ask, but what’s the plan?”

I sat beside her on the bed and tookPride and Prejudicefrom my purse. It had been tabbed and highlighted over the last few weeks—which was a large part of the reason the apartment hadn’t been ready for Dylan. Priorities, and all that.

“Jane Austen was a genius.”

“Okay …”

“There’s a reason her books have remained popular for so long and have been adapted into some of my favorite movies.Clueless, Bridget Jones’s Diary, Austenland, Bride and Prejudice—” I could keep going, but a glance at the clock told me that we were running low on time. Making myself look likeMax’s English professor dream-girl took much longer than I’d anticipated.

“I love those movies too,” Charlie said, her eyes alight with hope. “We should skip book club and rewatchClueless.”

For a split-second, I was tempted, but I shook my head. “No, we have to focus on the big picture. Project: Ardent Adoration.” The idea had come to me when I’d fallen head-over-heels, instantly in love with cat-Lizzy. I’d pulled out the book that night and started reading as ifPride and Prejudicewere a textbook on how to make a guy fall in love with you. I was Elizabeth—the free spirit who spoke her mind and adored her family even when they drove her crazy. And Max was Mr. Darcy—the intelligent, aloof man who didn’t always fit in with the local community because he was meant for greater things.

Would Elizabeth change how she dressed for a man? Probably not. The metaphor wasn’t perfect, but close enough.

“What is Project: Ardent Adoration?”

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