Page 3 of The Fun Part
Mason pokes his head in the door, his smile huge. “She said yes!” His new fiancée, May, and her six-year-old daughter, Sophie, walk in, beaming.
“Yeah!” I shout. Everyone cheers with lots of whistles and hooting too. I really like May. She lives across the street from me, owner of the new Serenity Inn.
“You guys!” May exclaims, putting a hand over her heart. Her diamond ring catches the light. “I can’t believe you planned all this without me knowing!”
Mason kisses her. They gaze at each other in total adoration as Sophie hugs their legs. For a moment I’m filled with such longing I can barely breathe. What a beautiful moment for this happy little family.
Then I remind myself I like my life just as it is. Light and carefree.
The jazz band starts their music. On my right is a buffet and a drink table catered by Dad’s restaurant and bar, Happy Endings. He named it after Mom’s romance book club, the Happy Endings Book Club, which is where she got her start as a matchmaker. She takes full credit for every single member finding their happy-ever-after. I’m sure it was just luck andtiming. You can’tmakelove happen. When someone’s ready to get married, they find someone else ready, and then they click because they want the same thing. That’s why I look for guys who only want casual fun.
Harper and I go over to congratulate the happy couple. My eye catches on Mom approaching with Mystery Dude. I swear if this is a setup, I’m going to be so pissed.
I force a neutral expression as Mom arrives, smiling her dazzling smile. No sense getting off on a bad foot if she’s not matchmaking. Who am I kidding? Of course she is.
Mom’s in her fifties now, still strikingly beautiful—long, strawberry-blonde hair, pale blue eyes, flawless skin, and a perfect hourglass figure. Why did I have to take after Dad’s side of the family? Ugh. Flat-chested, not much of a curve anywhere. Plain brown hair. At least I’m athletic like Dad. Mom’s terrible at most sports. She’s afraid of the ball.
Mom gestures toward Mystery Dude. “This is Cal Davis, the new lawyer in town. He used to be a minor league ball player for the triple A Iowa Cubs. Did I get that right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice is deeply resonant and warm, like melting chocolate.I’m so hungry.
Maybe I don’t need to stay away fromalllawyers.
Mom titters. “Please call me Hailey.” She points out each of us by name. When she gets to me, I’m surprised by the depth in his dark brown eyes. Intelligent and searching, like he’s trying to see into my soul.
I force myself to lower my gaze, landing on his chest and then lower, oops! Too low. Back to his chest. I’m a furnace in this thin dress. Suddenly the winter air sounds refreshing.
Harper whispers in my ear, “Like what Mom brought you?”
I badly want to elbow her in the kidneys.
“What position did you play?” Mason asks Cal.
“Catcher. Too hard on my knees. They got screwed up.”
Mom fills in the rest of his bio. “Then he went to law school, got some experience in the city, and now he’s about to take over Gabe Reynolds’s practice in town.” The city means New York City to locals.
“The city to small-town Clover Park?” I ask. “That’s got to be a culture shock.”
His gaze locks on mine, and my breath hitches, every nerve ending rising to attention. “I like small towns. I’m from a small town in Minnesota.”
Mom wags her finger at Harper and me. “Don’t get any ideas about the new single guy in town. He’s not the marrying type.”
Which is exactly my type!
Cal looks embarrassed and shifts his attention to the room. Probably looking for an out. Clearly, this is not a setup.
Mom pulls me aside to share in a whisper, “His live-in girlfriend broke up with him this morning for not wanting to commit to marriage. It’s better to know sooner than later when expectations are mismatched.”
I glance back at Cal, who’s studying the far wall. I wonder if he heard that.
Mom smiles brightly at him. “Come on, Cal. I’ll introduce you to more people.”
I take pity on the man. The wound is still fresh for the poor sexy guy.
“I can do it, Mom,” I say, attempting to look like I’m not at all interested in him as a gorgeous man who’s also conveniently a commitment-phobe.
It’s been eight long months.
