Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

I laugh even though I’m a little terrified of Mabel. Terrified and in awe. “See you later, Mabel.” With her back to me and fluffy pink gown swinging as she walks, she raises her mug in the air. I’m not fully convinced there’s actually coffee in there.

but the truth is, I like this new side of Amelia. She seems lighter and more fun. Country life suits her the way adventure suits me. I just didn’t realize until she was here with Noah how much she needed this place—these people. She touches the brim of her straw hat. “It’s basically farm dress code. Don’t worry, you’ll learn.” “Don’t think so. I’ll be out of here before there’s enough time for any of this to rub off on me once you persuade my boss to let me go.”

Amelia squints up at me. “You really don’t want to stick around after the wedding?” This morning, on our drive to the farm, I talked to her about the conversation I had with my boss. That’s one of the perks of having a nontraditional relationship with the client. I can be honest. Amelia wasn’t too thrilled, though. The only thing that seemed to ease her mind was when I told her to call me when she’s ready to tour again.

I wonder what Annie’s doing?

My eyes are snagged immediately, and I do a double take. Annie. Her blonde hair is braided to the side, her face shielded by a big straw sun hat. She’s wearing work gloves and holding a pair of gardening scissors. Today she has a tight white short-sleeved shirt underneath her cutoff jean overalls. I swear the sunlight hits this woman differently than other people. It seeps into her skin, makes her glow.

“How come you’re not commenting that she looks like Elly May Clampett?” asks Amelia, bumping her shoulder into my arm. “Who?” My voice comes out as dry as the desert. Amelia barks out a laugh, and I shake myself from the daze to look at her. “I was just trying to figure out what the name of those flowers is.” She smirks. “Uh-huh. Sure. Why don’t you ask the woman you’re gawking at?” I wiggle my fingers in front of her smug face. “Can you do less of this please?” She bats her eyelashes. “Less of what?” “The matchmaking. I can feel it. This town has seeped into your brain and turned you into a disgusting hopeless romantic.” “And I can turn you into one, too, if you’d just quit fighting it so hard. You’re not going to want to be a player forever, you know? And if you happen to meet a cute blonde flower shop owner and want to give dating a go…well, then—”

“I knew you had ulterior motives by asking me to be Annie’s dating coach. You’re going to be very disappointed when this doesn’t work out the way you want. I’m not going to fall in love with Annie or whatever it is you think is going to happen.” “Yeah…the love part. That’s exactly what I think will happen.” “Like hell. I don’t think I’m built for love.” She narrows her eyes, still not convinced. “Then why did you say yes to helping Annie?” Why, indeed. Because she has a hold on me that I can’t figure out. Because her eyes do this sparkly thing when she’s excited and the light hits them just right. Because the curve of her bottom lip is perfect. Because I feel desperate to know what wild thing she’s going to say next anytime she’s around. “Because there’s absolutely nothing to do in this town, and I need something to keep me busy when you don’t need m—”

He’s carrying a bucket full of cut roses and the muscles in his arms bulge obnoxiously. He smiles at Annie and she looks overjoyed to see him. He sets down the bucket, and she launches herself into his arms for a nice big bear hug. The squeeze he gives her in return feels like a bit much. Amelia hovers in my vision again, following my gaze. “Someone feeling a little jealous?” “Not in the least.” “Your jaw just flexed.” “It does that naturally because it’s so square.” “You mean it does that naturally when you’re jealous.” She drags out the word annoyingly.

I open my eyes and put my hands on Amelia’s shoulders, steering her in the direction of the car—opposite to the way of Annie and James. “All right. Time to go.” “Because you’re raging with jealousy and about to throw your fist in James’s face?”

“Don’t you want to get one more look at her before you leave?” Amelia taunts cheerfully. “Nope. I’m good.” “Oh my gosh, Will, they just kissed! So much tongue I can see it from here.”

“Can I get you anything?” she asks Will, still in a daze. He laughs, eyeing the table. “Normally I would say yes, but it looks like the whole menu is already here.” He looks up at me inquisitively, one brow lifted. So impressive, that ability. I fidget with the napkin beside my plate. “I was nervous while I waited. So I went ahead and ordered a few things for us…” “Just a few,” he repeats with a smile in my direction and then looks back up to Jeanine. “I think I’ve got everything I need here. Thank you.”

“All right. Let’s do this. What’s first?” Will’s gaze moves from my plate to my face, a cautious smile in place. “What do you mean?” I gesture between us. “Dating. What do I do first? You’ve sat down, I ordered you everything you could possibly need. What do I do now? Especially with my hands because I’m getting the urge to wave them around for no reason.”

“You don’t need to do anything with your hands.” “It feels like I do. How’s this?” I perch them on the table, and he watches, tracking my movements as I adjust them again. “No? How about like this then?” I spread my arm over the back of the booth. I scrunch my nose. “This feels manly. Do I look manly? Does this look like I’m asserting dominance, because I can tell you right now I’m a beta all the way.”

He points lazily to his ear. “I used to wear an earring.” My mouth falls open, but then I remember there’s food in there and clamp it shut. Sudden vivid images of Will in a pirate outfit, pistols hanging off a leather belt around his waist, shirt gaping open over his inked chest, and now…a silver hoop in his ear. Or no, it would be something gaudier. An emerald. A ruby he stole from a lady in a ballroom. The same ballroom he spots me in, and then decides he needs me. Can’t live another second without me. To the screams of the entire room, he snakes his arm around my waist and hoists me off the ground, stealing me away into the night. He takes me to his ship (which is somehow docked nearby), where he pushes me back against the railing and then his mouth crashes over mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and— “What the hell is going on in your head right now?” he asks, pulling me from my fantasy. My face flames. “Nothing. Let’s change the subject.” I squirm in my seat,

He hums, grinning like he somehow already knows. I wad my napkin and throw it at him. “You don’t know.” “I think I do.” He circles a finger around his face. “You wear all your thoughts on your face. So openly. You were taking my clothes off in your head.”

“Hey, can I ask you a random question?” “Sure.” “Is there something between you and James?” A startled punctuated laugh jumps from my throat. “Me and James?” I’m sure my eyes are bugging from my head. “No way. That would be like me falling in love with Noah. Gross.” “Really?” he asks, looking a little skeptical.

“Why do you ask?” He shrugs. “No reason. Just thought it would be good to get the whole picture. If we were trying to specifically help you snag James, then we could tailor our lessons.”

He sits back abruptly and smiles. “Of course that was before I found my wolf family. After that I was too busy roaming the land and hunting to climb trees.” The more I get to know Will, the more I realize his charming playfulness is not always real. Sometimes I think it’s a mask. It’s a smile drawn on a sticky note and pasted on his face. If I were to pull it off, I would find a frown beneath. “Come on—don’t give me that look, please.” He glances over his shoulder toward the fellow diner goers watching us with hawklike intensity. He flashes someone a beaming smile. Waves at another. “Am I giving you a look?” “A heavy one,” he says before turning his eyes back to me.

“No, Annie. Don’t get it twisted. I already think you’re sexy without a tattoo. So I know for sure you would be with one.”

But then with a flash of disappointment, I remember how this whole conversation started. Again, this was a demonstration. Practice. He’s showing me how well the lines work and how he effortlessly flirts because of them. Was the story about the tree real? Or is it just all a part of the mechanics.

“Nice. Good line.” “Wait, what?” he says sounding confused. I clear my throat and flash him an imitation of his own fake smile a minute ago. “I see what you did there. With the demonstration about the line and then the subsequent flirting. It worked flawlessly,” I say, overly cheery. “I’ll definitely have to remember it. Well done.” “Annie…”

I still don’t fully know what happened this afternoon. Everything seemed to be going well, and then I called her sexy and everything fell apart. She said something about it being a nice line and working perfectly. But I’m not sure what about that would have hurt her so badly. All I know is that the look she had before she shot up from the table gutted me. She was smiling with tears in her eyes. One glance at those blue eyes filled with emotion, and I wanted to beg her to stay so I could fix whatever happened. I haven’t been able to shake the image from my head all day.

Slowly she turns to look at me. Her face is a study in embarrassment, but I don’t know why. I’ve never wanted to crawl into someone’s head and read all of their thoughts like I do with Annie. My need to understand her, to know every desire, every hope and fear and longing, scares me.

“Or…if you’re too busy, maybe I could make her one myself?” A warm smile curves her full lips and more than ever I want to press mine to hers. I want to lick the sweetness right from her skin. “You don’t need to do that, Will.” I lift a brow. “Very presumptuous of you, ma’am. You don’t even know the lady.”

What happened, Annie? Are you upset that I think you’re sexy? Are you afraid it’s going to change things?” She squeaks and her eyes clamp shut. “No! I’m upset that you keep feeding me that line over and over.” I frown. “It’s not a line.”

I press my hand to her mouth. “None of that was a lie. None. I swear to you—I wasn’t even setting a trap of seduction or whatever you said. The story about the tree was true and something I’ve never told another soul. And the part where I think you’re wildly sexy is true too.” And then I notice tears welling in her eyes again, and now I’m completely lost. I shift my hand from her mouth to clasp the side of her jaw and rub my thumb under her eye—wiping away a tear. “Annie, why does that make you cry?”

“Because…because no one has ever said that about me before.” Those blue eyes open again, and a burst of potent feelings hits me in the chest. “They say it about my sisters—but never me. I’m always praised for being so nice and kind and tender. I’m the girl next door with the sweet face. I’m never viewed as a woman, Will. Instead, I’m just the one men butter up so that I’ll introduce them to Emily and Madison. Even John said…” she trails off.

“When I overheard him on the phone telling his friend how boring I was, he also said I was only prettyish.” She smiles sadly. “I’ll murder him.” “Will!” Annie reprimands me with a surprised laugh. “I’m serious, Annie. That guy doesn’t deserve to go on living after making you feel so shitty. Especially after he wore the ugliest baby-blue polo I’ve ever seen on a date.”

“And he’s just plain wrong. First, he was wrong about you being boring. You don’t even need dating lessons, Annie, you were so perfect on our date. Even when you think you’re doing something wrong, you’re so damn adorable I wanted to pull you into my lap and do things with you in the middle of that diner that would have put me in jail for public indecency. Second, he was so wrong about you being only prettyish. God, Annie, you’re drop-dead gorgeous. So beautiful it’s hard to look at you and continue persuading myself that kissing you would be a mistake because of our agreement. And third, your ass.”

“Your ass is a work of art. Two absolutely perfect slopes of soft curvy sensuality that absolutely kill me, Annie. Your ass kills me. And I need you to know that if we weren’t doing this just-friends thing—I would have already…”

I gently angle her face up to look at me. “Do you believe me?” She nods silently. And then her eyes drop to my lips. “But you were wrong about something.” “What’s that?” “It wouldn’t be a mistake to kiss me.”

“I want to change our original terms too.”

“This whole thing started off with me wanting to get good at dating, but…the more time I spend with you, the more I feel something coming to life inside me. Something I can’t quite pinpoint but I don’t want to lose either. You make me feel different, and I like it. I feel free with you—adventurous and curious.” She pauses and I don’t dare say anything. I need to hear where this is going without inserting any ideas of my own.

“And tonight…you want to practice kissing?” Her chest fills with a heavy breath and she nods. “I haven’t done it in a few years. I need to shake out the cobwebs. See if I’m any good at it.” This news is astounding to me.

“No one has kissed you in years, Annie? How is that possible?” I’ve wanted to kiss her every second since I met her. I feel her tremble against me. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. No one ever tries. Even my college boyfriend broke up with me after three weeks without ever really touching me. I think my reputation makes people think I don’t like this stuff.” “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I might be bad at this,” she warns with her eyes wide open, watching me as I tease the corners of her mouth. “I’m prepared.”

Annie turns away a fraction and smiles to herself, and then does something so open, so honest it tears my cynical, terrified heart in half. She rests the tips of her fingers against her smiling mouth. Before she has time to notice, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of her standing there in the warm overhead lights of her shop. “Out of curiosity,” I ask later as she’s locking up and I’m walking her to her truck. “What is your favorite flower?” She drops her gaze to her white Converses and smiles. “Magnolias.”

Anyway, Noah doesn’t like change. So the day he told me he was having wifi installed in his house and at The Pie Shop so he could keep in touch with Amelia while she was on tour, I knew he was in love. And now when you look at his quaint country house, you see a big intimidating gate at the front of the driveway and a sign announcing the sensors all around the seven acres of his property line. And then there is the guard shack they’re building, which is worth mentioning because it’s bigger than the peanut shell me and my sisters live in together. All of this is direct evidence that my brother has absolutely devoted his life to Amelia Rose. Those two are in it to win it, and it makes my squishy, romantic heart wild with the double Js. Joy and jealousy.

Despite our best attempts to convince Amelia that she’s welcome to join our sibling hearts night, she has refused to come. She wants us to have our time together—just the four of us. The woman is too thoughtful for her own good.

“Will?” I whisper into the stale night air while looking all around. “Williamson!” I don’t see him anywhere.

I can at least now admit that it’s more than a crush on Will. I like him. A lot. I keep trying to tell myself that I don’t, but the more times I say I don’t, the brighter his eyes look in my memory.

“Will! Where are—” A hand shoots out from a narrow alley and tugs me in. I know it’s Will before I even see him because my skin has memorized the feel of his.

“Hello, Annie Walker,” he says and uses his hand to brush my hair back from my face.

Instead, I stand here and look up at him. “Hello, Will Griffin.”

“What are we doing tonight?” He grins mischievously and his blue-gray eyes shine. “Something you’ve always wanted to do but have been too scared to.” My stomach tenses. “You don’t mean…” “You’re finally getting your tattoo tonight.” “What?!” I say, instinctively taking a step away from him. “No. I can’t do that.” “You can.”

“You can do this. If you want to…” I do want to. I really do.

I breathe in and smile. “Let’s go.”

I close the truck door and meet her on the sidewalk. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, looking in the lit-up parlor and feeling a pang of remorse for instigating this. Not even sure why. It’s just that the thought of Annie in all her softness going into that place and being inked forever has me suddenly feeling like an overprotective mother. What the hell?

And yet…something about being with Annie makes me want to be cautious for once. I have the distinct feeling of holding something precious and not wanting to let it drop. I feel protective. Possessive even.

I follow her out, quickening my strides to catch her. “Annie! Hold up. What happened?”