27 Ways to Find a Boyfriend

by Tapscott, Shari L.

  “That would be why—it masks the scent of the food and makes it less appealing. At least, that’s the idea.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I thought you developed a new obsession with the organizer store in the mall.” He offers his hand and pulls me to my feet.

  “What’s wrong? Are you worried you’re going to go into your garage and find all your nuts, bolts, and tools in tiny little lidded containers?”

  He laughs and pulls me toward him. “You’re welcome in my garage anytime.”

  I fake surprise. “Oh, that’s a pretty big step. You sure you’re ready for that?”

  The conversation with Lydia dances in my brain, demanding attention.

  Did Carter actually tell Isaac he might be in love with me? That’s probably not good because I don’t see how this can last—not without something else falling apart.

  The scariest thing might be that I think I’m falling for him too. In truth, I probably have been for a while. Maybe that’s the real reason I haven’t dated—I’ve been waiting this whole time for Carter. Why put yourself out there when you already work with the guy of your dreams?

  Ignoring the sobering thought, I angle my head up, inviting him to kiss me.

  “You smell good,” he murmurs as he presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

  I almost laugh. Yes, I sprayed a little perfume in my hair—the fruit and floral fragrance Jessa got for me as a bridesmaid gift. Judge me if you must.

  “Thanks.” I rest my forehead against his shoulder. “You know, we don’t have to go out. We could stay here, order takeout again.”

  “Number Three: Be adventurous! Men like women who are willing to try new things,” he quotes, chuckling when I jab him in the side.

  “Or I could cook—that’s nearly as adventurous as trying a roller coaster.”

  He leans back, smirking. “The list says you have to be adventurous—not me.”

  In response, I dig my fingers into his sides, which are so defined, it’s almost criminal. He rears back, laughing.

  There are several things I didn’t know about Carter until we started dating. First, he’s ridiculously ticklish—as in little girl ticklish. Second, he’s too nice to retaliate.

  “Sorry.” He throws his hands in the air. “I surrender.”

  “Mmm,” I purr, stalking forward. “I like that.”

  A slow, devilish grin spreads across his face. “Oh yeah?”

  My stomach does a little flip flop, and I gulp as he shoves the dog treats into his pocket and threads his fingers through the two front belt loops of my shorts, pulling me forward. He brushes a whisper of a kiss over my lips and then trails to my jaw.

  “Carter,” I say, tipping my head back. “Jessa and Franklin are going to be here any minute.”

  “What’s your point?” he asks against my skin.

  “Well, just that Jessa and Franklin are going to be here any minute.”

  He chuckles and returns to my mouth, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s not as sweet as it was a minute ago.

  “We have to teach Cocoa how to use the dog door,” I protest, but my willpower is waning.

  “He’ll figure it out.”

  “I have to change.”

  “You look fine.”

  I close my eyes, giving in, knowing we’re going to be interrupted. Sure enough, the doorbell rings, and it’s quickly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

  “I’m changing your locks,” Carter growls. “Just FYI.”

  Laughing, I press a last kiss against his lips and then step back and call out, “We’re in the laundry room, Jessa.”

  Shaking his head, Carter digs the treat from his pocket and hands them to me. “Call Cocoa from the other side of the door.”

  “You think he’ll be convinced by a little bribery?” Even as I say the words, Cocoa leaps up and sniffs my hand—he saw the exchange, and he smells the treats.

  I scratch his head and tell him to stay, which he sort of obeys, and I open the door to the garage. I lean down so my face is close to the flap. “Cocoa, come.”

  He begins to cry, knowing the treats are so close, and yet so far. It’s a pathetic sound, something far too high pitched to come from a puppy his size.

  “Well, come on.”

  Carter opens the flap so Cocoa can see me. “You can do it.”

  The little guy paces and whines.

  “What are you doing to him?” Jessa asks when she steps into the room.

  “Trying to teach him how to use the dog door,” Carter says as I come back inside. I left the treats in a tempting pile on the other side—if Cocoa wants them badly enough, he’ll figure out how to get to them. After all, a pantry door didn’t stand in his way.

  Momentarily distracted by the company, Cocoa circles around Jessa and Franklin. Jessa pats his head twice, looking wary of his fur and drool.

  Taking me by surprise, Franklin kneels and calls the puppy over, setting a hand on either side of Cocoa’s head and giving him a good scruffy pet. He then looks up at his wife. “We should get a dog. What do you think?”

  Her mouth drops open. “By dog, you mean houseplant, right?”

  He laughs and turns his attention back to Cocoa. “Or a baby…”

  “Dog it is,” she says brightly, shooting me a look of horror.

  Someday, I think Jessa’s going to make a great mom, but Franklin is going to have a lot of work ahead of him to convince her she’s cut out for the sippy cup and diaper crowd.

  “I don’t know, Jessa,” I say just to tease her. “A baby could be fun, right?”

  And that look of horror becomes a look of death.

  “Okay,” she says in a bright voice, changing the subject. “Are you ready? We have a two-hour drive ahead of us.”

  “Or we could skip the drive,” I say just as brightly. “Stay here instead, play board games.”

  Ignoring me, she turns to Carter. “I don’t remember Addison having a dog door.”

  Carter glances at me. “I came over a little early to install it for her.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you.”

  He collects his tools. “I’m a nice guy.”

  “Great—we have gutters that need cleaning. Guess I know who to call.”

  Carter rolls his eyes, which she seems to find particularly amusing.

  Then, abruptly shifting gears once more, Jessa says, “Okay! Let’s go.”

  I exchange a look with Carter as we walk to the front. It’s going to be nearly impossible to hide our relationship from Jessa all night, and neither of us appears comfortable with the ruse. It’s one thing to not mention it; it’s an entirely different thing to flat-out lie.

  We’re almost to Jessa’s car when she pulls me aside. “You’ve been holding out on me. What’s going on with you and my brother?”

  “Nothing.”

  She gives me a hard look. “The man came over after work to install dog doors for you, Addison. That’s not nothing territory.”

  Lydia knows; Isaac knows. If I tell Jessa, she and Franklin will know too—and that means my dad will be the only one who doesn’t know. And that seems wrong.

  Instead of answering, I shrug and hurry to the car.

  25

  Thankfully, Jessa lets the subject drop for now, though I have no doubt we’ll return to it later. The drive to Phoenix is uneventful, and we pull into the massive parking lot at a quarter to eight. It’s just after dusk, but the lights are already flickering on in the park. Tinny music plays, beckoning us and our wallets to come right on in.

  “How long does this place stay open?” Carter asks.

  “The evening passes are good from seven to eleven,” Jessa answers. “So we have plenty of time, even if you guys want to eat first.”

  Overhead, people scream as their roller coaster train twists through a corkscrew. My palms start to sweat, but I tell myself I can stick with the kiddy rides. Carter and I hang back as Franklin and Jessa step up to the window.

  “Hi there,” Jessa
says to the attendant. “We have evening passes for four adults.”

  The teenager nods, looking bored. He places a hot pink band around Jessa’s wrist and then Franklin’s, and then he motions Carter and me forward.

  In a monotone voice, he says, “Be sure to catch Adventure on the High Seas: A Pirate’s Swashbuckling Rendition of Robin Hood. Also, don’t miss out on Miss Darcy Belle’s Sugar Spun Cotton Candy. Buy one get one free today only.”

  Jessa says, “Thanks—”

  “Please note, Coaster World will close rides in the event of thunderstorms.”

  Looking at the clear sky, Jessa says, “I don’t think—”

  “We are not liable for lost or stolen items. Also, please consult a physician to ensure you’re healthy enough for high thrill rides, and be aware you ride at your own risk.”

  Jessa pauses before she grins. “You done?”

  He doesn’t even flinch. “We here at Coaster World hope you have a screaming good time. Please proceed to the entrance on your right.”

  “Great,” she says, tugging Franklin’s arm. “We’re gonna go now.”

  We make it just past the entrance before we start laughing.

  “How much do you think they pay him to say all of that?” Carter asks, grinning as he looks around.

  The smell of popcorn from a nearby stand wafts in the air, making me hungry. We’re not far from the midway, and a variety of buzzers and bells drown out the music coming through the speakers.

  “What first?” Jessa asks. “Food or rides?”

  “Let’s ride a few of the wilder coasters first,” Franklin says. “Better now than with a full stomach.”

  Better never than now, if you ask me.

  Carter and I hang back as Jessa and Franklin take off toward The Cyclone of Death.

  “Hey,” he says quietly, taking my hand and twining his fingers through mine.

  I bite my lip, trying to hold back a besotted grin. “Hi.”

  Jessa and Franklin don’t even realize they’ve gotten so far ahead of us—or they’re giving us space on purpose.

  “This is nice,” I say to Carter with a sigh, taking in the joyous chaos. “We never get to go anywhere.”

  He tugs me to a stop and pulls me around so I’m facing him. “It doesn’t have to be like this—we don’t have to hide.”

  I raise my brows, questioning the statement. We’re practically Romeo and Juliet. (Without the whole ridiculous poison thing, of course.) He’s a Montague, and I’m a Capulet, and there’s no way my father is going to be all right with us together.

  “I’m serious.” He smiles and coaxes me just a bit closer.

  People walk around us, paying no attention. Kids run to the next ride or treat, parents push strollers, and teens gather in giggling groups. We’re far from alone, but the chaos is private in its own way.

  “I think you’re a bit delusional,” I say. “But the sentiment is sweet.”

  “Addison, I—” He’s cut off by a nearby toddler shrieking that she wanted pink cotton candy, not blue. He looks toward the frazzled parents and laughs under his breath. “Never mind. This is a conversation for later.”

  My stomach tightens, but not in a pleasant way. “A conversation?”

  Carter looks back at me and smiles, obviously picking up the startled, wary tone of my voice. “A good conversation—not a bad one.” He takes my other hand, holding them both. “About us.”

  My trepidation turns to hope. And then reality sets in, and it morphs to anxiety.

  Brushing my wayward feelings aside, I give him what I hope is an easy smile. “That sounds rather ominous.”

  Chuckling, he leans down and gives me a soft, sweet kiss. It’s quick and entirely appropriate for our surroundings, but nevertheless, it warms me all the way to the tips of my toes.

  “Consider yourself warned,” he teases, and then he takes my hand again, and together, we hurry to catch up to Jessa and Franklin.

  * * *

  It’s ten thirty-five, and I’ve managed to avoid every roller coaster that has a loop or corkscrew built into it. I did, however, ride the wooden one that felt like it was going to beat me to death, and I am proud to say I fared better than anyone else on the spinning rides.

  “Come on, Addison,” Jessa coaxes. “The Ferris Wheel isn’t scary. Look how slow it’s going.”

  Yeah, but it’s so high.

  “I don’t know…”

  “I’ll go with you,” Carter offers.

  If Jessa and Franklin haven’t figured out we’re already dating, I’m sure they think we will be soon. Staying apart has proven to be nearly impossible—especially when Jessa keeps shoving us together.

  “See, Carter will go with you,” Jessa says with a Cheshire Cat smile.

  I roll my eyes, but she only laughs. “Okay,” I finally say.

  “Oh, Franklin.” She turns to her husband. “I forgot. I want to ride the Triple Hurricane before we go. It’s all the way across the park. If we don’t go now, we might not make it in time.”

  “We’ll walk with you,” I tell her.

  “No!” she says sternly, whirling back to me. “You and Carter go to the Ferris wheel. We’ll meet you by the front gates at eleven.”

  “Okay…”

  And with that, she grabs Franklin’s hand and takes off.

  As soon as they’re gone, I grin at Carter. “If she’s not here, does that mean I don’t have to ride it?”

  Carter laughs and presses a hand to the small of my back, guiding me toward the line. “Come on. Be brave.”

  Because it’s so late, the line is small. Only a few minutes later, I’m stepping onto the slightly unsteady car. I sit, deciding this is a terrible idea. I look for Carter, but he’s talking to the attendant. A moment later, he joins me and pulls the bar down over our laps.

  The ride jerks forward, and I take a deep breath. It’ll be all right.

  We move up slowly, giving me time to acclimate to the feel of the ride as more people get on. The car gently rocks back and forth, but not so much that I feel like we’re going to tip out.

  “It’s not as bad as I thought,” I say when we reach the top of the ride. The amusement park lights the night, and the rest of Phoenix glows around us. You can see for miles up here.

  Carter wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Not bad at all.”

  I lean into him and look out over the city. He kisses my cheek, just in front of my ear, and then playfully nips my earlobe. I laugh and turn back to him. Our eyes meet, and my pulse jumps. We’ve been together for weeks, and he still makes me soft and liquid. He’s warm at my side, solid and long-legged, and he looks at me like there’s no one else he’d rather share this with.

  It’s like I conjured this moment right from my dreams.

  His hand finds my hair, and he wraps a strand around his fingers. I close my eyes, enjoying the gentle tug. The evening air is cooler up here, and the madness below feels distant.

  “It seems like we’ve been up here a while,” I say after a few minutes.

  “Does it?” he asks too casually, his eyes bright even though he pretends to frown.

  I tilt my head to the side, studying him. Then I laugh. “You paid the attendant.”

  “The list told me to. Number Sixteen: Pay a Ferris wheel attendant to stop the ride while you’re at the top.” He shifts closer, and he runs his bottom lip across mine, making every one of my nerves spark. “I figured everything else worked so well, why not try that too?”

  “You’re using the list on me?”

  “Mmmhmm.” The hummed word tickles my lips. “But I’m just practicing. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “You can practice on me anytime you like,” I say, stealing his line.

  “Well, in that case…”

  His hand slides to the back of my neck, and our mouths meet. Since we’re at the top, we’re cloaked in semi-privacy. A sweet tingle runs down my spine. His lips are warm, his kiss inviting, and I don’t settle for a peck.

 
But just as I move in for more, the Ferris wheel jerks back to life.

  He smiles against my lips. “I knew I should have paid another five dollars.”

  I give his shoulder a playful nudge and then settle in next to him. “Oh well—that’s what you get for being cheap.”

  When the ride is over, we walk down the wooden plank path. Carter pulls me in for another quick kiss when we reach the end.

  I sigh against him, happier than I’ve been in a long time—and then I see the camera crew.

  One of Phoenix’s nightly news stations is set up, just in front of the ride. The reporter’s back is to us, but I’m pretty sure we’re in the camera’s range.

  “Carter,” I breathe, horrified. “Dad watches that station.”

  He frowns, but after thinking a moment, nods. We walk toward the crew, waiting until they’re done.

  “Hey,” Carter says in a friendly, non-confrontational tone. “We just wanted to make sure we weren’t in your frame back there.”

  The reporter looks over her shoulder. “Were you leaving the Ferris wheel? If so, probably.”

  “We’d prefer not to be on camera. Is there any way you could cut that section?”

  The woman puts on a frowny face that looks practiced. “I’m sorry. We were live.”

  As if on cue, my phone rings. My stomach drops to my toes, and I pull it out of my pocket like it’s a miniature guillotine.

  “Who is it?” Carter asks, his voice tight.

  I look up at him. “My dad.”

  26

  “Hey, Dad,” I say, preparing myself for the worst.

  “Lydia said you were going to Phoenix tonight. Are you home yet?”

  Wait. What?

  “No…”

  “It’s getting pretty late,” he says.

  “It’s not even quite eleven, and it’s Friday night.”

  He lets out a long sigh. “I just don’t like you being on the highway this time of night.”

  I relax when I realize he didn’t see Carter and me on the news, but this is getting ridiculous—no, it’s past ridiculous. Carter’s right; things have to change. I can’t keep going on like this for the rest of my life.