Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Acknowledgments
- Readers Guide
- DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
“Oh, that’s awful, and I walked right into it.” Joy begins to wheeze with laughter. She drops her forehead against his shoulder. “I love this for us. I really do.”
Twenty-One
Pie assembled, top crust weaved with Suzy Homemaker precision, Joy places it into the oven with an encouraging, “You’re going to be amazing.”
The opening chords of a sweeping ballad begin to drift through the kitchen. Joy twirls in time to the music, right past Fox, holding her apron like a corner of a dress. Growing up, she wanted to be a Disney Princess—one who didn’t get turned into an animal twenty-five percent of the way through her movie. Her favorite clothes to wear were dresses for that very reason. You never knew when the right song would play and require you to dramatically twirl on a moment’s notice.
“Joy,” Fox says. And then he’s there, taking one of her hands in his, one hand at her waist. She automatically places her hand on his shoulder, assuming the position before she realizes what she’s done. He spins her in a circle, and she squeals with glee when he dips her quickly before bringing her back up.
Alleged Romantic Bucket List item number 12: slow dancing in an unconventional place.
A kitchen had to count for that. And okay, it may not have been romantic, but pretending it’s real feels as good as the real thing.
“Okay. This is probably, definitely why Summer accused me of casting a love spell on you,” she says with a completely straight face.
“. . . What?”
Joy hadn’t meant to bring it up. It just popped into her head. Summer was right—Fox really is different when it’s only the two of them. There’s no way the grumpiest grump to ever grinch would be dancing with her in the kitchen if they weren’t alone.
“Did Summer tell you everything about our fight this morning?”
“She didn’t tell me anything. I caught her coming out of your room, crying, but she didn’t tell me why.”
Joy tells him what happened with Summer. She peeks around Fox’s shoulder to check on the pie. It’s already turning golden brown with fifteen minutes to go. “I guess it’s not possible for you to honestly like me. Something must be wrong.”
“And what if I did?”
“Huh?” She didn’t mean to say that—it just slipped out.
Fox doesn’t repeat himself. No smile. No laugh. He’s not joking, and he knows she heard him.
And then, she realizes he’s waiting for an answer.
what if what if what if