LITMIR.BIZ

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this is Griffith Burnett. You should know him. He owns that tiny house company you’ve all seen off the highway. He grew up here. His folks are Mark and Melinda. They moved to New Mexico six months ago. Griffith here wants to join our book club.”

      He waited for the inevitable, “Why?” but the women only smiled and nodded. Except for Kelly, who kept her attention firmly on the cupcake she held.

      “Let me introduce you to everyone,” Sally said. They’d walked in together and somehow she’d assigned herself as his hostess for the evening.

      She went around the room, spouting names faster than he could remember them, starting with a mother of three and ending with the reason he was here in the first place.

      “This is Kelly Murphy.” Sally frowned. “Didn’t you two go to high school together? Or is she closer to your brother’s age? I can’t keep you kids straight. And what about Helen Sperry? You’re the same age, aren’t you?”

      “I’m a year older,” Helen said, offering her hand. “Hi. I think we had a social studies class together.”

      “I’m sure we did.” He waited until Kelly had no choice but to look at him. “Hello, Kelly.”

      “Griffith.” The word was clipped, her tone less than friendly, matching the wary expression in her big, brown eyes.

      She looked good. He supposed there were some men who would be put off by the absence of frills, but he liked that about her. The sharp edges, the lack of guile. What you saw and all that. She was smart, she was determined and she wasn’t going to make it easy. He’d always been the kind of guy who liked a challenge, so he was looking forward to the latter.

      “Why are you here?” she asked.

      Beside him, Sally stiffened. “Kelly, honey, what’s wrong? Griffith wants to join our book club.”

      “And read Eat, Pray, Love? I find that hard to believe.”

      “Is it my reading skills you doubt or my interest in the subject matter?”

      The corner of her mouth twitched. He would guess annoyance rather than humor, not that he would mind seeing her smile.

      “A woman’s journey to emotional and spiritual fulfillment hardly seems like something you’d enjoy,” she murmured.

      “Do you think you know me well enough to decide that?”

      Now everyone was watching and listening. He stepped closer to Kelly. Close enough that she had to tilt her head slightly to hold his gaze.

      “I find everything about a woman’s journey interesting. I enjoy discovering how she’s different than I expected. I like the anticipation.”

      Someone’s breath caught. Not Kelly’s. Her gaze narrowed. “Next month we’re reading an autobiography of Eleanor Roosevelt.”

      “Lucky me. I’ve always been an admirer.”

      Liar.

      She didn’t say the word out loud, but she sure as hell thought it. Griffith held in a grin as he watched her struggle with her temper. He suspected she was imagining smashing the cupcake she held into his face, turning on her heel and walking away. Only she wouldn’t. She would restrain herself. He couldn’t wait to test that restraint in every way possible.

      But not tonight. Tonight was simply the next step in his plan. He wanted someone in his life—he’d decided that serial monogamy was his road to happiness and he hoped he and Kelly could come to a mutual understanding.

      “Did you think the author spent too much time deconstructing her divorce in the book?” she asked. “Should we have gotten right to the journey?”

      He’d thought there might be a test, but he’d hoped it would be harder. “She doesn’t deconstruct her divorce. In fact there isn’t much detail as to what went wrong. She does make it clear the divorce was painful.”

      Something he understood personally. Screwing up was never pleasant but to mess up something that fundamental sucked in a big way.

      “And the part in Thailand?” Kelly asked.

      “You mean Indonesia?”

      She handled defeat with grace. Instead of saying something sarcastic, she flashed him an unexpected smile—one that hit him in the gut with the subtlety of a 2x4—and offered him her cupcake.

      “Welcome to our book club.”

      “Thank you.”

      “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a glass of wine.”

      * * *

      “He was nice,” Helen said as Kelly drove the handful of miles between Petal Pushers and their respective houses.

      No need to ask who “he” was, Kelly thought. She’d just endured the longest three hours of her life in the same room as Griffith. She’d listened to him analyze the book, make jokes and generally charm every woman within earshot. Except her, of course. But then she was the only one to have survived being rejected by Griffith, so she was special.

      “Incredibly nice,” Kelly murmured.

      “Now you’re being sarcastic.”

      “I can’t help it. Doesn’t it strike you as the least bit odd that he wanted to join our book club? There’s that mystery one in La Conner. Why doesn’t he join that one?”

      “He’s local, like us.”

      Griffith was many things but “like us” was not one of them. “Can you at least admit it’s slightly odd that he showed up?”

      Helen considered the question. “It’s unexpected, yes. But it’s not a bad thing.”

      “Not for you.”

      Helen angled toward Kelly. “Come on. Griffith is gorgeous. You have to admit looking at him isn’t a hardship.”

      No, it wasn’t, not that she wanted to admit anything of the kind. He’d always been one of those guys who captured the attention of every female in a three-block radius. Of course he was tall, with sandy-brown hair and brown eyes. But it wasn’t the individual features so much as how they came together into one incredibly appealing man.

      “I still wish he’d gone to the mystery book club. There are guys there. He’d feel more comfortable.”

      “Maybe you should tell him.”

      Kelly heard the amusement in her friend’s voice and groaned. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

      “A little.” Helen shook her head. “Come on. Is it really so bad to have a guy like Griffith interested in you? It’s been six months since you and Sven broke up. It’s time to move on. Griffith is a great moving-on kind of guy.”

      “So speaks the woman who hasn’t dated since her divorce six years ago.”

      “I’m very comfortable in my ‘do as I say, not as I do’ role in our relationship. Come on. You can’t tell me you’re not the tiniest bit flattered. You have to be.”

      “Why? Because he’s staring at me? I don’t know what he wants, but I doubt it’s what you’re thinking.”

      “Why would you say that?”

      Kelly turned at the corner and headed toward her friend’s house. “I’m very clear on my place in the universe.”

      “Meaning?”

      Kelly waved her hand in front of her midsection. “I’m average at best. Not beautiful, not pretty, not ugly. Just regular.”

      If Griffith was looking for a fancier version of a Murphy, he should check out Olivia. Kelly hadn’t seen her sister in forever, but she would literally bet the farm on the fact that Olivia was still gorgeous and glamorous and wearing a designer something. Not cargo

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