Page 89 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

“Perfect, thanks.” Before she left, she stopped and added, “By the way, I’m going to fix it.”

Gracie paused, and then a small smile tilted her lips up at the corners. “Well, let me know when you do.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mike came back from a call at the Thompsons’ ranch after five that evening and set his tool bag down on his desk.

Next to a small, pink notebook with a heart and an arrow on the cover in what appeared to be white out.

He picked it up curiously and slipped it open. And his heart pounded hard and fast as he read the first page.

Rules to Love By

Mike flipped it to the next page and number one was written in all caps.

Ellie has a year to figure out what she wants to do. After they get married, Ellie will divide her energy between her work and giving Mike kids.

Laughing, Mike flipped to the next page.

Mike and Ellie will support each other and do everything they can to make the other happy.

The rules went on for twelve pages, even addressing where they would spend their anniversary—playing in the fountain. On the last page, Mike choked up as he read the words he found there.

Ellie will love Mike and trust him for as long as she lives. Will Mike do the same?

Slipping the book into his pocket, he rushed to lock up, and just as he was headed out the door, the phone rang.

“Hello?” he said impatiently.

“Hey, buddy, how goes it?” Drew asked.

“Honestly, has anyone ever told you that you have the worst timing?”

“Is that any way to talk to your old friend?”

“As much as I love you, buddy, I’m going to have to call you back,” Mike said. He turned the phone on silent and climbed into his SUV.

Mike turned on the car and cranked up the AC. When he got his seat belt on, he pulled out his phone one more time. Dismissing the missed call from Drew, he pulled out the book and wrote one little word before snapping a picture of it with his phone.

Quickly, he sent the picture, and stepped on the gas.

It was time for him to find his forever.

Ellie stared at the screen again. Yes.

It had been thirty minutes since Mike had sent the text and she’d responded with a half a dozen messages, but he wasn’t answering. She was tempted to drive over to his place and wait for him, but her mind was spinning. Did he mean it?

God, she hoped so, because she wanted him desperately. She wanted those deep brown eyes and hard shoulders and strong arms. She wanted his ridiculous donkey laugh and high cheekbones and dumb jokes and warm touch.

More than anything, she wanted to kiss him again. To see if she’d only imagined the all-consuming fire his lips on hers had created.

A loud banging on her door made her jump.

When the pounding continued, she got up and ran to answer, her heart hammering faster with every step she took.

When she pulled the door open, Mike was standing on the porch. He gazed at her intensely under his furrowed brow, as if he was trying to figure out what he was doing there.

“Mike, what—”