Page 31 of More Than a Good Friend

Dag picks up the stick that’s wrapped with colorful paper and taps it on the ground before winding up to take a swing.

I squint, hoping no one gets hit with shrapnel when it explodes.

The stick connects with the princess. The rope snaps. And the piñata turns into a rocket. Adults duck, and children scream. But it’s sheer delight because candy is pouring out of the dress as it whizzes through the air. Candy scatters all over the yard. The princess piñata slams into the back of the house—very near a window—and slides to the ground.

Dag drops the stick and marches toward me. “She said two reallys. I was just doing as I was told.”

Now that I know there aren’t any injuries, I’m laughing. Hard.

“It’s not that funny. People are looking at me.”

“Only because you’reso strong. You turned a princess into a flying superhero.”

“Your brother is going to hate me.”

I rub Dag’s shoulder. “He doesn’t. He’s laughing too.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He takes back his cup of punch. “I’d ask to leave, but I want to see her open the present.”

Missy runs up, her hands full of candy. “This is for you, Mr. Dag. I’ve never seen a princess fly before.”

He shoves the cup in my hand and accepts the candy. “Thanks.”

It’s good stuff. The kinds I like.

Grinning, he bumps my shoulder. “I’ll share with you.”

“Because we’re best friends?”

“Yep.” He winks, and weeds of hope sprout up again.

Loving him is like a virus I can’t shake.

CHAPTER12

DAG

Goldie is helping her sister-in-law pass out cake, so I take a seat next to Mr. Flores. “Fun party.”

His head bobs in agreement. “You still want to marry my daughter?”

The whole failed proposal hasn’t come up since our birthday. But of course he’s bringing it up now. Pretty sure piñatas are bad luck for me. Which is unfortunate.

I like piñatas.

Keeping my voice low and my gaze fixed on Goldie, I say, “That didn’t work out.” He’s silent until I turn and face him. “She didn’t want to marry me.”

“But that wasn’t what I asked you.” He glances at Goldie, then looks at me. “Was it?”

“Grandpa, come over here by me.” Missy waves her hand.

“Excuse me. I’m being paged.” He strolls away, acting like we just had a normal conversation.

I’d never dream of marrying Goldie when she’s against the idea. What would I do? Drag her by the hair to the altar? I’m not a caveman.

While she’s licking pink frosting off her fingers, I’m thinking about his question. When I asked for his blessing, it wasn’t because I wanted to be married to Goldie. I was just making good on our deal. But now I’m thinking about it. What would it be like living with her?

The cabin would stay cleaner.

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