Good Girl(64)

Lydia whirls and her eyes flash in surprise. A look of confusion follows.

"Rhys." She sighs it a little when she says it, and it sounds like a question.

"I'll leave you two." The real-estate agent smiles and with a glance between us turns to leave. Her heels snap across the floor until she reaches the porch, Lydia and I silent until she's gone. Then I close the distance between us, walking slowly towards her while taking in the interior of the cabin.

"Nice place," I say by way of easing in.

"Yeah." She nods. "Yeah, it is. It's got a lot of potential." She lifts her chin a fraction. "With the right vision it could be really special."

"I'm sorry." She blinks rapidly and takes a breath but I continue before she can say anything. "I'm sorry for everything. Except for that first kiss in the bar. That was the best decision I've ever made. I'm sorry for everything that came after."

"You're sorry?" She blinks again "Sorry in a ‘you wish it didn't happen’ kind of way?"

"God, no." I shake my head. "Sorry in an ‘I’m in love with you’ way. In an ‘I’m hoping I haven’t fucked it up too badly’ kind of way. In an ‘I’m hoping you’ll give me another chance’ kind of way.”

"Oh."

"I'm sorry for giving you such mixed signals. I'm sorry for walking out on you at the bar and I'm sorry I put you in a position to resort to such a completely insane plan to get my attention.”

"I'm sorry too. My timing wasn't great. I should have waited until after the grand opening, but I was afraid you'd fall in love with a real hooker instead of me."

"Not possible." I shake my head.

"Sure it is. Anything is possible."

"You're the only woman for me, Lydia. I don't know what I can offer you," I say softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and bringing her hand to my lips. “But I'm in love with you and I want to try."

"What are you doing?" She looks alarmed and takes a step back, her hand dropping from mine. "Are you proposing to me right now?"

"I wasn't, actually. But I can. I'll marry you today if that's what it takes."

"No!"

"Okay, wow. That was a pretty spirited no. So you don't want to marry me?"

"We met less than two months ago, Rhys. I want to be courted. Wooed. Pursued. Solicited in a romantic fashion. At someplace other than Del Taco. No, that's a lie. Del Taco is fine, actually."

"You want to be wooed with value-menu iced coffee?"

"It's really good, Rhys. No matter what you say."

"Fair enough."

“Here's a spoiler, Rhys: I will marry you. Someday. But this"—she gestures between us with her finger—"is not my proposal. You will propose one day, when we are both ready for it, and you will make it good. Do you hear me? Good. The words 'I wasn't, actually, but I can,' will not come out of your mouth at that time. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." She narrows her eyes at me as if she's not sure if my yes was sincere or not.

"Can I say something?"

"What?" she snaps.

"This bossy girl thing is a real turn-on."

A slow smile spread across her face at that along with the hint of a blush.

"Can I say something else?"

"Okay," she agrees, this time smiling.

“You were right when you said you’ve been doing all the work and I want to fix that. Will you let me? Because I really need to earn that seven percent back.”

“Hmm.” She hums while she thinks. "I do have a few badges left to earn. Perhaps you could help me with them."

"I'd love to.”





Epilogue





RHYS

Several years later….



“Once upon a time a girl walked into a bar and captured my heart, but I was too stupid to see what was happening. Luckily for me she was a very goal-oriented type of girl who decided against all logic that I was goal-worthy. I wasn’t, but that didn’t stop her. Thank God that didn’t stop her.”

“Rhys!” Lydia hisses. “Don’t tell him that! That is not an accurate retelling of the fairytale. Nor an appropriate retelling.”

“Hush. It’s our favorite bedtime story. Also he’s a dog so I don’t think he minds which version I give him.”

We both turn to look at our new dog, Trooper. He thumps his tail against the floor and tilts his head to the side, one eye raised as he attempts to discern if Lydia is about to give him an extra belly rub before bed. He’s some kind of lab mix we obtained through a rescue group, but I don’t think that should be a surprise to anyone. Lydia loves to rescue things. People, old sheets, lost tourists, a pair of swans that needed a sponsorship—honestly I didn’t ask for the details on that last one. Trooper’s an adult dog and badly behaved. Much like I was when Lydia found me. She says he has potential.

“Does he have to sleep in his kennel?”

Trooper thumps his tail in response. He knows how to work me.

“Yes. Yes, he does. Until he’s earned his good behavior badge he needs to sleep in his crate.”