Rule #1 Don't Fall for Mr. Wrong: Sweet Romantic Comedy (Rules of Dating: Christian RomComs)

by Taylor Hart

  She glared at him, but she wanted to laugh at his description. “Ha. Ha. I’ll have you know that I have been to one year of college. I dated some.”

  “Doesn’t sound convincing to me.” Beau paused. “But, it is convenient he wants you to wait for him. Then you won’t know what you’re missing.”

  Irritation pricked at the edges of her. “If you must know, Jonathon told me that he didn’t want me to wait. He also told me that he wanted me to date as many guys as I could so when he got back I would know that he was the one for me.”

  Beau lifted his eyebrows. “Really? As many guys as you can? Sheesh, now that’s confidence.”

  “He should be confident.” She snapped.

  Beau put the new battery in and tightened down the wires. “Okay, whatever you say.”

  “What?”

  He pulled away from her car and gave her a sharp look. “Nothing, I just think you’re a bit naïve, that’s all.”

  “Is that supposed to be an insult.”

  He frowned. “Not an insult, an observation.” He shrugged. “Look, I don’t care.”

  “Clearly.”

  He gestured to the car. “Why don’t you go start your car?”

  Sara went to her car and tried. It roared to life. “Ohmygosh, thank you.”

  Their eyes met.

  “Finally, you can get away from me.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  He laughed.

  Man, the guy was annoying and helpful and a bit snarky all rolled into one. She thought of what he’d said about her being naïve. She wasn’t naïve. She would wait for Jonathon and then everything would be perfect. She got out of the car and moved toward him. “Thank you. I mean it.”

  He dropped the old battery into the back of his truck. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “Uh, can I get your address?”

  Beau turned around, sizing her up. “You want my address?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I want to send you a thank you card.”

  This woman. She was beautiful and good. Even though she was a bit too naïve for his blood, but it was fun to toy with her. “Are you asking me out?”

  Sara cocked her head to the side. “You wish. I just want to send you a thank you card.”

  Beau let out a laugh. “Well, it was nothin, little lady . . .”

  She laughed. “That was a horrible impression, but—thank you.”

  He liked her laugh.

  “I mean it. Thank you.” She reached out and put her hand lightly on his arm.

  He looked at her hand, then met her eyes.

  Attraction pulsed through her. She yanked her hand back. “Sorry.”

  A tiny smile played at his lips. “Happy to help, but can I give you some advice?”

  “Okay.”

  “I know you think you fell in love and you’re waiting and you have a five-year plan, but…”

  “What?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Don’t wait to have fun in life, okay? Don’t put that off for a year or five or whatever.”

  It slightly annoyed her that he acted like she was Amish or something. “Is that all?”

  “That’s it.”

  Sara jerked a thumb to her car. “Well, thank you.” She moved to her car door and pulled it back. “I better go.” She shut the door and leaned out the window. “But, really, thank you.”

  Beau nodded.

  She began backing up, then paused. “I guess the John Wayne act does work well for you.”

  Beau turned and walked to her car window. “Not really.”

  She gave him a once over, wondering what this guy’s story was. He said he didn’t believe anymore. That insinuated he had believed at one time. “I don’t know what your story is, Beau, but I think there’s a good guy in there. Even if there’s a completely rude guy in there, too.”

  He grinned at her, then tapped her window and backed away. “Drive safe.”

  Chapter 6

  Almost One Year Later

  University of Wyoming

  Sara entered the Union Building and smiled. Thirty-one days. Thirty-one days until Jonathon would be back. Thirty-one days until her life—would really start.

  She strolled into the campus store and picked up a bottle of water. She picked up a copy of the campus paper and a thrill went through her.

  The article she had written. Front page.

  Warm hands covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

  Sara laughed, knowing it was Carey, her friend and dance partner in their ballroom dance class last semester. He turned her in a circle and pulled her into his arms, laughing, too. “You’re looking good this year, Sara.”

  Sara stepped back and put her bag into place on her shoulder, trying not to blush. “Hey, how was your summer?”

  He moved beside her. “Could’ve been better, but someone has to work with dear old dad at the family store, right?”

  Sara grimaced, feeling a little sad for him. If anyone understood feeling familial pressure to join a business, she did. Her oldest brother, James, had really put the pressure on her before she’d come back to school, telling her they needed her to pitch in and help run the business side of things. She paid for her things and sauntered out of the small store.

  He tapped the paper. “Your first article was good.”

  Sara relished in the praise. “Thanks.”

  He’d been the one to talk her into writing for the campus newspaper last spring.

  She motioned for the couches and they sat.

  “You know you are one of a select few that know I am Beatrice Fairfax . . . shh.”

  “Hey, your secret’s safe with me. But, as your editor, I have to claim all the success, too—for spotting your potential.”

  Tilting her head to the side, Sara rolled her eyes. “Right, of course, it’s all you, Carey.”

  Laughing, he took the other half of her sandwich. “I’ll take this as a symbol of your undying gratitude.”

  Sara reached for it, but Carey turned his head away and stuffed the whole half into his mouth.

  “You’re such a brat.”

  Carey chomped on it, trying not to choke through his laughter.

  Sara scoffed. “You’re a thief.”

  He frowned as he munched, then spoke with his mouthful. “What does your pen name stand for anyway?”

  She scoffed. “And they say that editors know everything.” She smiled, accepting the fact she would never get her sandwich back. “Beatrice Fairfax was the first “Dear Abby” type of columnist at the New York Journal—back in the day.”

  “Hmm.” Carey looked her up and down. “I guess this editor just learned something.”

  Sara thought of the old couple at the Ivinson Home for the Elderly that she’d made promises to. “Hey, are you in for Saturdays? Martha and Larry want to keep up with their lessons. I got the sweetest card from Martha over the summer that asked if we would continue tutoring them.”

  Carey shook his head back and forth, frowning. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  She frowned at him. “Carey, they are old and they count on us.”

  He pointed at her. “They count on you. You’re the one who teaches the steps.”

  “Carey…” This didn’t make her happy. She hated disappointing people.

  “Plus, my engineering classes are too demanding this semester. I’m going to be spending lots of time studying, and then being the editor doesn’t help my time situation.”

  Trying not to go to anger, thoughts of Martha’s silver hair and soft smile was too much for Sara. “Seriously?”

  Carey stood, holding her backpack out for her. “Don’t do that, Sara.”

  She stood up, grabbing her bag away from him. “What about Martha and Larry? We bring them fun.”

  “Sara. I can’t.”

  Sara turned, pushing past him toward the doors. “Whatever.”

  “I’ll see you at bible study later?” Carey called after her.

  Ignoring him, she let the heavy doors dro
p behind her and wondered how she would tell Martha and Larry there would be no classes this year. Hurrying to her next class, Sara pushed back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She knew Carey wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was she felt like she was disappointing everyone right now—especially her father. His doctor had given him a couple of months to live. And she was here—instead of on the ranch with him. Even though he had insisted she come back to the University; it just felt wrong.

  Walking faster, she tried not to think about her brother’s accusation, that school was her way of running away from all of the family problems. Rounding the corner into the business building, she didn’t see anybody standing there until it was too late.

  “Excuse me,” he said it like she was the most annoying thing he’d ever encountered.

  “Well, if you’d watch . . .” Sara looked up at him, trying to place where she’d seen him before. His blonde hair was windblown and his black sunglasses were dark.

  “You.” His voice was final, like he’d been expecting her somehow.

  The black, shiny boots gave him away. Sara didn’t know why the insides of her stomach went gooey. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  He folded his arms and smiled. “I guess it’s your lucky day.”

  Sara couldn’t believe he was standing there. She’d actually thought about Beau a lot over the last year. Which … had troubled her. “What are you doing here?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Well, I never got a thank you card.”

  Taken off guard, Sara laughed.

  He laughed, too.

  “Sorry.” Now she was embarrassed. “I didn’t get your address, remember?”

  His eyes had a teasing look in them. His grin widened.

  He was already teasing her. “You’re …” she broke off, laughing again.

  He laughed, too.

  Their eyes connected and butterflies exploded into her gut. “Stop.”

  He laughed harder. “No, I seriously have looked for you for a year. I mean, I want the thank you card.”

  She couldn’t help but enjoy this game. “Ohmygosh.” It unnerved her that she was embarrassed, which he seemed to know and enjoy. “Seriously, why are you here?”

  He sucked in a long breath. “I actually grew up here. I have a friend in the business department, and he invited me to teach a couple of courses this year. I figured why not give students my wisdom?” He puffed up his collar.

  She laughed, again. “Yes, wisdom or cockiness, not sure what that is?”

  He nodded. “It’s a fine line.”

  He looked good. Something was different about him.

  He looked her up and down. “I assume you go to school here.”

  She jerked out of her reverie “Ohmygosh, I’m late for class!” She ran down the hall to her class. “Talk to you later!”

  It seemed like every Christian student on campus was at the opening social at the InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. Sara walked in with her best friend Genova and Genova’s boyfriend, Kevin.

  Carey walked over and took Sara’s hand. His voice was sultry, and he twirled her into a dance move. “I’ve been waiting too long for you.”

  Sara pulled her hand away and glared at him. He would not come back into her good graces so easily. “You don’t get to dance with me anywhere, if you’re not helping Martha and Larry with their lessons.”

  “C’mon, Sara, don’t do that.”

  Genova glared at him. “What did you do, Carey?”

  Sara smiled at her loyal friend. Genova had never cared for Carey anyway, always calling him a player.

  Sara put her hand into the air in a stopping gesture. “I just didn’t realize how selfish you are.”

  Carey sighed. “What do you want me to do, Sara? I have hard classes.”

  Sara stuck her chin in the air but didn’t look at him. “I want you to help me teach dance lessons to those two cute, old people that look forward to it.”

  Carey didn’t budge. “I can’t.”

  Sara began to walk away from him. “Ya know this is a perfect place to find someone else to help me.”

  Carey unfolded his arms, lifting his hands into the air. “All right.”

  “What?”

  His expression was intense. “I said all right. I’ll help.” He sighed. “Can we dance already?” He put his hand out.

  Sara smiled, reveling in the fact that Martha and Larry wouldn’t be disappointed. She put her hand in his and felt him pull her into some fast, complicated dance moves.

  Sara laughed and joked. “Carey, I could be Bella Swan in your arms.”

  “Don’t insult me,” he said, picking her up and swinging her over his head into another move. “I’m way better than Edward . . . more of a Jacob.” He pulled her closely to him and put his cheek against hers as they fell into an easy step.

  Sara snuggled into Carey’s shoulder. This was how it was between them. He was a fabulous dancer and made her laugh like crazy, but he was waiting for Sue, who was on a three month mission to the Philipines. So she and Carey had vowed they would wait for their people together.

  “So who were you talking about in your article?” Carey asked.

  Sara smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Twirling her out and into a circle, she felt herself become free—for an instant. Dancing did that for her. Carey rolled her back into his arms and the song ended. Their breath mingled and Carey whispered, “You’re so beautiful tonight.”

  Pulling away from him, Sara smacked his shoulder. He was always messing around with her. “Stop.”

  “Seriously, what did you mean when you said in the article,” he cleared his throat, “love is like dancing with a good partner. If you pick the right one, you’ll never get bored and you’ll look forward to dancing into eternity.”

  Sara didn’t like the pensive look on Carey’s face and started walking back to where Genova and Kevin were sitting. She let go of his hand and turned away from him, scanning the room. “Um, I don’t know. It’s my job to say that stuff.”

  Carey stepped in front of her, forcing her gaze on him. “I think there might be something hidden in your message.”

  Sara scoffed at his flirtations, hating the fact they were starting to make her uncomfortable. Looking from Carey to Genova, she announced, “I’ll be right back, I’m getting some water.”

  She maneuvered through the maze of people to the mound of assorted cookies spread across the table. She grabbed a bottle of water at the other end and opened it, then guzzled it back.

  Surveying the dance floor, she waved at some friends she’d gotten to know at the fellowship center over the last two years, noticing some of the new groups of freshman hovering in the foyer and hall. She loved the closeness that came with being a part of it. Leaning over to grab a cookie, she touched hands with someone and looked up.

  His pale blue eyes smiled at her. Wearing a black, collared shirt and dark blue jeans, his blonde hair looked even whiter with the white lights strung above them.

  “I guess you thought you’d made your great escape from me earlier today.” He wagged a finger at her. “You didn’t even remember my name, did you?”

  For some reason her heart picked up speed, and she wanted to tease him about earlier—when he’d obviously thought she’d forgotten. “Right, wait, what was your name? I need it for that thank you card.”

  Moving beside her, Beau smiled and leaned back against the wall. “I see how soon your gratitude has waned.”

  Sara laughed. “I am still grateful for you helping me that day.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Hmm.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at this good-looking man. A million questions ran through her mind. She’d been thinking about him all afternoon. She was nervous. “Obviously I’m just lucky to run into you twice in the same day.” Man, she sounded silly.

  A new slow song started, without asking, Beau grabbed her hand and started pulling her out onto the floor.
“Obviously.”

  Sara fell into step with him. “You know, a guy usually asks a girl if she wants to dance. I’m sure you’ve probably dated since the days a guy just clonked a girl over the head with a club, but I thought I’d let you know.” Honestly, she didn’t know how much older he was than her, but she didn’t have a chance to think about it.

  He pulled her closer to him. His cologne was light, and it wafted through her as he turned her out for a spin. “Sometimes a man just knows when a woman wants to dance with him.”

  Beau started into some steps she didn’t know and found herself having to pay attention to keep up with him. “You’re not bad.”

  Beau took her through a series of movements and then jerked her firmly against him, spinning them both. “How is Jonathon?”

  Her head started to spin, and Beau slowed down, back to a simple two step. “You remembered his name?”

  He smiled and averted his eyes for a split second to Carey then back to her.

  Sara looked at Genova as they danced by, giving her the ‘who is that’ look. “He’s good.”

  His smile widened. “Let’s see, he should be back soon?”

  Sara gave him a patronizing smile. “Thirty-one days. But who’s counting?”

  Beau looked over at Carey, who now stood next to Genova and looked at them both with brooding eyes. “And who is that?”

  Carey was giving them both a very authoritative parental look.

  Sara stifled a laugh. “Oh, we took a dance class together. He’s waiting for his girlfriend. She's helping people in the Philippines. So we hang out because we’re safe together.”

  “Hmm.” He said it like he didn’t agree with her.

  “What?”

  Sara felt Beau’s breath softly in her ear. He spun her out and back. “Is that what he’s telling you?”

  Her heart fluttered. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s lucky for you that I showed up tonight because he’s looking kind of unsafe. But, maybe dancing with lots of guys is a good reminder for you, to have fun.”

  “Hey, I have fun,” she argued. Not that she had to argue, but she felt like she did.