Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

“You know, I thought you were supposed to be shy.” I shrug. “I am with most people.” But, oddly, not you, is what I leave unspoken.

But I also can’t fall for Will because he’s not the kind of man I want to marry. I need dependable, sweet, and cozy. Someone to match my vibes. Someone to be a great dad to our future children and help with math homework and play catch in the yard. In comparison, Will is dangerous, and sexy, and exciting. The only thing he’ll catch is my heart before he tosses it onto the ground and stomps it into a million tiny little pieces before sailing off into the sunset.

Annie’s hands go to her hips. “Well, for the record, I thought it was a bad idea at first, but why do you think it’s a bad idea?” I can think of a million and two reasons. But the first and most important is that I’m miserably attracted to Annie and need to stay as far away from her as possible over the next month. I haven’t been able to get her off my mind since last night. I even dreamed about her. Damn that dream.

“Because,” I say, wishing that was enough of an answer. “Have you never seen the movies like this? The woman always has to do a bunch of shit she doesn’t like to do, like go to places that make her uncomfortable, change her style, and step outside of her normal world. And then, by the end of the movie, the guy falls in love with her and everything gets complicated. No, it sounds like a terrible idea. Not to mention I’m opposed to the whole love thing. I don’t want a relationship with anyone ever—and why are you smiling at me like that?”

“But what if I promise I won’t fall in love with you?” she says as if that’s a flattering option. “You’re not the kind of guy I’m looking for anyway.” “Wow. I feel great now. Thank you.” “Come on, Will! It’s perfect.”

“Wildon, please be my tutor.” I shake my head, trying not to laugh while skirting around her.

“Why do you need a tutor so badly?” “Because I’d really like to get married before I’m eighty, and my last date was a disaster.” “It couldn’t have been a disaster.” “A disaster,” she repeats firmly, with eyes wide open. “Remember how he left at the beginning of the date? Before that I overheard him on the phone tell his friend that I was unbelievably boring. Too dull to hook up with.” Rage swiftly and furiously sweeps over me. “What a dick. Tell me his name. I’m going to—”

“Ugh. Please, Will!” she asks in an over-the-top beg that makes me have to smother a grin. “No.” She props her hand on her hip. “Are you worried you’re going to fall in love with me?” “Nope, I’m not.”

“Fine,” she says, stiffening into a more stubborn pose. “Then I’ll just have to hire someone else to do it.” She turns and starts walking back toward where I assume her storeroom is located. “Like who?” I follow her.

“Someone.” She blinks twice. “Someone good at being sexy who can help me be sexy too.” Two more blinks. “Maybe a male escort.” I whistle quietly. “A male escort? No way is Annie Walker going bad. Are you going to pay extra for the sex too?” Her eyes flare ever so slightly, but then her chin lifts. “Absolutely I’m going to pay extra for the…sex.” She drops her voice to a whisper on the last word, making me laugh. “I gotta see this. Promise me you’ll bring him around once you’ve hired him?”

“We’ll be too busy for me to bring him by with him teaching me all kinds of things.” I narrow my eyes and tip forward to lean my hand on the doorframe over her shoulder. “Just to clarify and make sure I understand the whole picture. You’re saying you’ll be too busy with your male escort?” “Yes, with my…” She briefly glances at my forearm beside her head and then weakly finishes her sentence, “male escort.” “Because he’ll be teaching you all sorts of things. Sexual things I’m assuming, but correct me if I’m wrong.”

I nod absently—my lazy movement matching her lazy tone because we’re both stuck in a sensuous, unrelieved haze. My arm is still resting behind Annie as I turn my eyes to watch James round the large white truck with the logo for Huxley Farm on the side. From everything Amelia has told me, he owns the farm now after it became too much for his parents. Apparently, he’s Noah’s best friend and has pretty much grown up with the Walker siblings. I assume he’s like a brother to them. Or maybe he isn’t… “Oh wow,” Annie says, also watching James but sounding less hazy by the second. “He’s wearing a suit!” Yeah, he is. And even I can admit the man looks good.

“James, hi!” she says in a cheery tone, while setting the bouquet on the counter and pulling out a piece of brown paper to wrap around it. The weird part is, she never even looks at what her hands are doing. She’s staring at James the entire time. Not necessarily like she wants him—but like she’s contemplating him. Shit. I’m afraid I know what’s happening now.

“You look amazing,” Annie says with way too much emphasis, if you ask me. “Where are you going?” Her fingers work to delicately wrap twine around the brown paper—and all I can think about is how those fingers felt moving softly against mine. What they’d feel like dancing across my chest. Clutching at my back.

“Your dad okay?” she asks, sweetness and concern coating her tone. What’s it like to have someone like Annie worry about you? I doubt James even appreciates what he has.

I, however, am going to be miserable all afternoon after being guilt-tripped into going.” “And yet you’re still taking her a bouquet of flowers. What a guy,” she says with a soft chuckle. “But you’ll have a great time. I’ve seen you on the dance floor, and I know you’ll have all the ladies lined up by the end of the night.” James laughs again, and their camaraderie is making me feel a little ill. “We’ll see,” James says before winking at Annie in a blatantly Matthew McConaughey kind of way. And now I want to run him over with his own truck. Am I jealous? No, I’m never jealous.

And yet, as I see Annie eyeing James in an assessing way and coming to some sort of conclusion, I realize I am absolutely jealous. “Hey, James?” she begins thoughtfully. “I have sort of a random question to ask you. And feel free to say no, but would you—” “I’ll do it,” I say quickly, cutting Annie off.

“But I have one condition.” “Name it.” I grin. “I get to walk out of here today with your book.” “My book?” she asks, hoping she heard me wrong. “The book.” I smile as I watch two pink splotches hit the apples of her cheeks. For a beat, there’s nothing but silence. Painful, thick silence. And then slowly Annie’s sweet smile tilts ever so slightly into a devious grin, and I realize I just got epically played. “You’ve got a deal, bodyguard.” “Executive protection agent.” James clears his throat. “Why do I feel like I just missed out on an important opportunity?” Because you did. Now, get lost, she’s mine.

I hold up the letter. “This was unacceptable, you little…” She leans closer to see if this will actually be the moment I say something cutting. “Meddler! Beautiful meddler actually, because you’re honestly glowing today—but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m mad at you!” Amelia smiles. “You are looking beautiful today too.” “Don’t try to butter me up. You’re in trouble. You Funny-Faced me!” “Yeah, I did!” Her smile grows. “What was his answer?”

“You agreed last night to let me come up with a plan, remember? You said you wanted someone to swoop in and teach you how to get good at dating, like Fred taught Audrey to be the Quality woman. So I found your Fred.” “But you weren’t supposed to present the plan to me in front of Fred!” I shake my head. “I mean, Will—where he would bodily wrestle me for the friggin’ thing.” Amelia takes in a happy gulp of air. “He said yes, didn’t he?” I fold my arms, eyeing the space around me and choosing to let her dangle a little in uncertainty. It’s the best form of torture I can think of at the moment. “The studio turned out nicely. Are you liking it?”

“Yeah, yeah, the studio is great. Tell me what Will said.”

Amelia stands up from the piano bench and launches herself onto the couch with me. She tackles me in a hug. “Don’t be mad at me, Annie! I can’t take your polite chitchat. It’s worse than a cold shoulder.” I resist her hug, tucking my arms tightly against my sides. Must resist the affection. She hugs even harder. Squeezing the daylights out of me. When I can’t stand it any longer, I blurt, “Fine! I give. Will said yes,” and then I return her hug, because not many people understand this about me, but I love affection.

Even though Amelia has only been in my life for a little over a year now, I somehow feel closer to her than I do my sisters. I adore Emily and Madison, and have that special sister connection with them, but with Amelia, it’s not just a sisterly connection but that of a close friend too. She views me differently than my sisters do. She values my opinion and seems to understand me in a way that Emily and Madison never have. With them, everything always gets boiled down to one clear-cut outlook: Annie is our sweet baby sister, a little plain and unexciting. It doesn’t matter that I’ll be thirty in a few years; they treat me like I’m ten years old. Which is why I keep a lot about my life to myself. Sometimes I don’t want to hear the let’s-poke-fun-at-sweet-Annie banter they always reply with when I tell them the truth. Amelia doesn’t do that to me.

Because the truth is, today when Will’s hand touched mine, my entire body felt electrified. When he had his arms around me, I breathed deeply. I breathed deeply, people! And honestly, having him play-fight with me over the letter was the most fun I’ve had with a person in…maybe my whole life.

don’t want a hobby.” She scoffs. “Get a girlfriend then.” “That’s definitely not going to hap—” As if on cue, I look out the front café windows and spot Annie across the street. She’s walking up the sidewalk from the communal parking lot,

“What I mean, Wilbur, is what are you doing here shopping in the middle of the day?” He pulls the shredded wheat from the shelf again and puts it in my basket this time, looking down at me with playful indulgence. “You need fiber, Annie Walker.” “You came all the way to town today because you had a strong suspicion my fiber intake was low?” “All the way to town, yes.” He grins lazily and I realize there’s nothing quite like the sound of this man’s voice when he’s teasing.

“By the way, I finished the book.” Shock whips through me, and I drop the bag of Lay’s I was holding. Will casually and softly sets a box of Imodium in my basket and strolls away.

“Honestly, I couldn’t put it down. I stayed in all day yesterday just reading.” I pull in a deep happy breath through my nose. I would bounce on the balls of my feet if I didn’t think it would make me look childish. “Are you serious?”

“It was sexy as hell.” I keep my eyes fixed straight ahead on the loaves of honey wheat bread because if I look at Will right now, my skin will melt clean off my body. How dare he talk to me like that! Like…like I’ve always secretly dreamed of someone talking to me.

I grin and narrow my eyes. “What was your favorite scene, Will?” He steps a little closer, a taunting look in his eyes. “The scene in the pub?” “William,” I chide gently,

“You wouldn’t be trying to lure me into inappropriate conversation, would you, Angel Annie?” In an instant, any playfulness I feel dies away with that awful nickname. It’s one thing when everyone else calls me that or taunts me with it—but from Will I can’t stand it. “Don’t call me that, please,” I say, allowing myself a rare moment of honesty. “I don’t like it.” I’m not looking at Will, but I can still feel his gaze. And then I can feel his fingers lightly clasp my elbow as if he were afraid I was about to drift off, and he needed to keep me there beside him. “Annie. I’m sorry.” His voice is low and genuine. “I didn’t mean it in a negative way.”

“It feels like they’re saying I don’t have as much substance as everyone else. That because I’m sweet, I don’t have as much to offer. I constantly feel underestimated, and I’m so tired of it.” Will’s thumb glides tenderly against my skin. His voice drops until it’s intimately quiet. “I won’t do it again.”

“Whoops! Wrong side. Totally forgot it’s…on the other side.” Their shadows are projecting onto the grass, and I see Will place his hands on Mabel’s shoulders and guide her the opposite way. She whistles lightly. “Now, William. At least take me to dinner first.” The only person in town who is a bigger flirt than Will is Mabel. “Believe me, Mabel, if I thought I had a chance…” Will says, making Mabel chuckle and me roll my eyes.

Of course Noah is walking up the front sidewalk of the inn, holding a pie box. “Mabel? You here?” he hollers. “Yep! Right here,” she says, coming around to the front of the house and leaving Will on the side. “Brought your pie.”

Mabel lowers her voice. “Lord, yes. But between me and you, I think the boy is lonely. Inventing excuses to spend time with me and all that. Better come humor him with me.” “What’s going on?” And that would be the voice of Emily as she walks up to the inn, coming to join the circus. What the Frankenstein are my siblings all doing around town this late? Don’t they have lives?! “Will is showing us a bad piece of siding on the inn,” says Noah. Emily scoffs. “No way. I thought Mabel just had it all replaced last month. And Darell is the one who did it. He never does a bad job.”

“Mabel thinks Will is just lonely and is trying to get attention.”

“What’s going on over here?” Oh geez. Do we really need to throw Harriet into this mix? “Is this another impromptu town meeting without me?” She still hasn’t forgiven Mabel after the last one. “Does this look like a town meeting, Harriet? Do you ever use your brain?” asks Mabel ruthlessly. “At least I have one to use! And if it’s not a meeting—why are y’all standing around here?”

“Yes, William, the gang’s all here. Now, show us this rotten siding.” “Good. Right. Glad we all get to see it.” He pauses and clears his throat. “Follow me, everyone.” I wait three breaths, peek around the corner again, and then hightail it up to room number four. Will’s room.

“Damn, Annie, what are you turning me into? I’m now at a new level of awful after having to deliberately rip off a piece of Mabel’s siding before they all came to look! Of course I told her I’d fix it for her—but I feel like I’m going to have bad dreams after seeing how proud she looked at me for offering to fix it after I was the one who ripped it off.”

until little mist droplets form in my eyes. “It’s silly. But I was a little nervous to hang out with you in your room tonight because of your reputation. But then when I realized you’re living in one of the Golden Girls’ rooms, I didn’t feel so worried anymore.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, looking highly offended now. “Why don’t you feel worried anymore?” “Because!” I say, laughing again as I think of Will trying to seduce me on top of that blue-and-white-checkered quilt. “Look at this room! The only thing you could hold in here is a Bible study.”

He grins. “Not true. I was nervous.”

Will’s eyes narrow on my face, jaws clenching as he debates something. And then Will raises his hand level between us. That’s when I see it. His hand, that beautiful, strong, inked hand, is trembling. Will Griffin is shaking from touching me.

Okay, that’s the second time he’s deflected a question regarding his childhood. Apparently, that means any conversation surrounding his adolescence is off the table. Interesting.

“Really!” My voice is an octave higher than usual. “That’s what I want.” He tips a brow, looks down, and opens his laptop. “If you say so. Now, for these lessons. Do you want to—”

“Because you told me not to call you Angel Annie. Because you wrestled me in your shop and then masterfully maneuvered me into being your dating coach. Because you read books about women who are pulled from their average lives and thrust into huge adventures where they thrive and find passion. Because even though you say you were relieved when you realized I lived in this old lady’s room, I could see the disappointment in your eyes.” His gaze drops to my lips, holds for two seconds, and comes back up again. “It seems to me, Annie, that you are just waiting for someone to give you permission to be yourself out loud.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing, huh?” Mabel asks. “Not a bit.” She snorts. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

“Like I said, you’re not responsible for this. I’ll call Darrel. You go about your day.” She makes a shooing motion with her hand. I shift on my feet uncomfortably. “I’d like to help, though. If you’ll just give me his contact number, I’ll get him to fix it and I’ll pay for—” “You ripped that siding off to create a distraction to sneak Annie into your room, didn’t you?”

My mouth falls open. I flounder for an answer. “How did you know?”

She gives me a slow grin—masterfully perfected from years of wielding it. “I know everything in this town.” “Terrifying.” “Isn’t it?” She sips her coffee.

“Would you tell me if I asked?” “No,” I say honestly. “Annie asked me not to. So I have to keep my promise to her.” And for some reason, having Annie’s trust feels like holding the world. I never want to break it. “Good man. I knew I liked you.” She raises her mug. “Woulda lost a lot of respect for you if you’d caved right away.” Her eyes shift to the missing siding, and laughter springs to her eyes. She shakes her head with a smile. “Fool. You could’ve just told me Harriet was on her way to the bar early to take my place at poker night.”