Swing and a Mishap (Summersweet Island 2)

Fine, so I’m smiling a little bit to myself as I grab their glasses and put them in the sink. And sure, some of the nausea goes away while a whole bunch of fantasies of Shepherd riding in on a white horse to scoop me up and away from the evil villain play in my head. Whatever. It’s still not his battle to fight.

“All right, I’ve got exactly fifteen minutes before I need to leave for work,” Birdie announces, hopping down from her stool. “Plenty of time to pick out an outfit for you to wear on your date.”

It’s like they want to make me lose my mind this morning. I wasn’t nervous at all about my date with Shepherd until now. My closet is filled with nothing but T-shirts and shorts. And while I’m sure Shepherd’s ego would absolutely love for me to wear one of his shirts on our date, I can’t wear a freaking T-shirt on a date with Shepherd Oliver!

Birdie grabs my arm and starts tugging me toward the hallway, once again oblivious to my current state of panic.

“Wren’s closet has nothing slutty enough for a date with Shepherd. We’re gonna need to go to your closet,” Tess tells Birdie with a snort, grabbing my other arm and tugging me toward my front door.

“Did you just call me a slut?”

“I’m sorry, was it someone else who had sex with Palmer the first time they kissed?”

“No, no, that was me. Damn, that was a good day. I don’t think she should go slutty on the first date. And she definitely can’t wear anything from your closet or she’ll look like she’s going to a funeral.”

“It’s funny because it’s true. Whoever thinks it’s a good idea to call off work and go to the mainland shopping, say aye!”

“Aye!” Tess and Birdie shout together while I let them drag me toward the door.

“The ayes have it!” Birdie announces, pulling her phone out of her pocket to call the golf course. “I’ll call Mom after I call SIG and have her take your shift today.”

I don’t even bother reminding them I have a voice while they talk around me and make plans for me as they grab my purse and drag me out the door. I’ll let them interfere just this one last time, because I can’t wear a freaking T-shirt and a pair of shorts on a date with Shepherd Oliver.CHAPTER 11Wren

“Looks like he’s swinging for the fences.”

Wren: I have to ask you something, but I feel like you’re going to be difficult about it.

Random Guy I Kissed: I am never difficult.

Wren: Rrriiight. Sure, okay.

Random Guy I Kissed: How about you just ask me so you can be pleasantly surprised?

Wren: Fine. I’m running late. Is it okay if I just meet you wherever?

Random Guy I Kissed: No.

Random Guy I Kissed: Absolutely not.

Random Guy I Kissed: N-O.

Random Guy I Kissed: This is a proper first date, and I will properly pick you up. Just tell me when.

Wren: What happened to not being difficult?

Random Guy I Kissed: I’m not being difficult; I’m being a gentleman.

Wren: Listen, today was a whole thing with my sister and Tess where they made me… go to a MALL. I got dragged to entirely too many stores, where I was forced to try on entirely too many clothes in front of a bunch of mirrors that LIE. There was some day drinking at a spa where people touched my feet, followed by an accidental nap so I could forget about the feet touching, which made me late dropping Owen off at his friend’s house for a sleepover, and now Birdie won’t stop yelling at me about shoes.

Random Guy I Kissed: Breathe, sweetheart. Whatever you need, you got it. Just meet me here at my cottage whenever you’re finished. Take all the time you need. I’ve waited my whole life for you. I’m not going anywhere.I might not have been living my best life during my plethora of single years, but I’ve still been on enough dates to know they are always awkward and they are never as romantic as movies and books make them out to be. None of them had any effort or thought put into them, and all of them included dinner someplace here on the island I’ve been to a thousand times before, where everyone I know and have grown up with gets a front-row seat to the evening. Which is in no way romantic at all, especially when you’re in twelfth grade eating pizza at Island Slice with Jeff Lindauer, and Erika from the pharmacy runs up to your table to give you the box of super plus tampons she forgot to put in your bag when you were there earlier.

These dates were never special. They were just a few hours spent with someone else where I kept glancing at the clock, wondering how much longer I had to suffer and make small talk. No one ever bought me flowers, no one ever held my hand, and no one ever pulled out my chair or opened my door. My sister and Tess and even Emily… they’re strong, independent women who give zero fucks about things like that. They’re happy to buy their own flowers and open their own doors. They don’t need outdated gestures from a man to make them feel special. I like to think I’m pretty strong, and I’ve had to be independent whether I wanted to or not. That doesn’t mean I’m not still a little old fashioned at heart. I still want the romance and the effort.