Twenty chapters into the novel, Greer discovered the sweetest love story she'd read in a long time. There wasn't much steam to it, but written in 1960, she didn't expect any. Allen and Charlotte were total opposites. Farm boy from meager means meets city girl with family wealth. They might as well have been oil and water. At least that's what one would think, but they were perfect for each other. He worshiped her and in return she loved him with her whole heart.

He wrote her poetry. She sang him songs. They danced in the moonlight and counted stars. He picked her flowers. She baked him cookies.

It all sounded so familiar and Greer wanted to see Jackson more than ever. With that final thought, she closed the book, and drifted into sleep.

By noon the next day, she'd finished the book and looked forward to Mr. Mooney's visit. She'd replenished her liquor cabinet so he wouldn't miss his regular dose of bourbon. Even bought an extra bottle, but no need offering it to the old man. His routine was as much about loneliness as getting free booze.

She took a moment to consider that. Would she be alone at that age? According to Jackson, she would, unless she changed. He didn't know what he was talking about. What did he think she'd done since her sister died? Greer's entire world had turned upside down. She'd given up everything. Her home. Business. Friends. Her heart was the only thing left intact. Or was it?

Medusa strolled into the kitchen and pushed her bowl around on the floor. Metal scraping across tile must have sounded like a dinner bell because Mordecai sprinted into the room to join her.

"Okay, okay. I know you're hungry. Give me a minute." Greer made quick work of opening cans and dividing organic chicken between the dishes. She couldn't help but laugh. Kitten chicken. Funny. "Here you go."

The pets had been a good choice. Emma loved them and she always had playmates. If only Greer could make other decisions as easily. Especially concerning Jackson. Should she contact him?

From the porch, she watched Mr. Mooney amble up the sidewalk, cup in one hand and a cigar in the other. "You're right on time."

"Punctuality is about all I have left going for me. Besides, don't want to mess up your schedule for the school run."

He took the wicker chair next to Greer's and she opened the bottle. "Emma's going home with a friend, so today I'm all yours, and I'm going to join you." She filled his cup, then picked up a glass from the floor and poured herself two fingers.

He took a drink, then released a breath. "Damn, that's good stuff." He brought the cigar to his lips, inhaled and blew the smoke toward heaven. "Great, because we have something to celebrate. Harold got the grandparents to drop the lawsuit. You're free to do as you please."

Greer's breath froze in her throat. "What?"

"Yep. He dug up enough dirt on the old guy to get you anything you want. Seems he's got a secret kid the wife doesn't know about."

"Are you serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about this. I know how important it is to you."

She rose from her chair and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. For once, I get good news."

"So I guess this means you'll be leaving."

Greer flopped back onto her seat. "I don't think so. Fairhope isn't unbearable. The heat and tropical storms are awful, but sunsets and being close to a beach give it a certain charm. And those sandwiches at the drive-in aren't bad either. Oh, I finished the book."

"How'd you like it?"

"I loved it. Not a coincidence it's your story, so you must know Nella Harper. Right?"

"All my life."

"Is she still alive, because she hasn't written a book in a long time?"

"Alive and kicking. Just lost her muse. So, what's the latest on your situation? You make up with your boyfriend?"

Greer knocked the drink back, coughed and sputtered. "He's not my boyfriend and no, I haven't talked to him."

"Hey, go easy on that. It isn't a girly drink. If you're not used to the hard stuff, it can put you under pretty quick."

She waved him off. "I'll be okay."

"Whatever you say. Now, about your fellow. Want some advice? Hey, don't roll those eyes at me. I've had more romance in my lifetime than you've thought about. I know the world has changed, but not love. It's still the same. Everybody dreams about it. Wants it. Searches for it until the day they draw their last breath. You're no different."

"That's because you found happily-ever-after. Not everybody does even though they try multiple times."

"You think Charlotte and I had it easy? We didn't. Her family didn't approve of me. And they were right. She could have done a lot better. But no doctor or lawyer could have loved her more than this simple farm boy."

"Oh, I know all about disapproving families."

As Mr. Mooney listened, Greer went into detail about her failed marriage, the divorce of her parents, and discovery of Ava's unhappiness. When she finished, she downed her second drink. "Fairy tale endings don't run in my clan."

"Chapters, Greer. Fairytale chapters are the most we can hope for. I'm sure your mom and dad had plenty of them, and I'd bet so did your sister." He held out his cup and Greer refilled it. "Even in romance novels, there's trouble. That's what keeps you reading. How boring would it be if life was nothing but moonlight and roses? Nobody wants to read that crap—or live it. It's working through the rough times and coming out the other side better than when we started that gives us self-worth."

"I appreciate your insight, but the fact is, I like being single."

The old man took a long drag from his cigar. "Just one problem with that. At some point, being single can turn in to being lonely."

After Mr. Mooney left, Greer replayed his pep-talk and thought how he sounded like an older version of Jackson. They both made sense. Maybe chapters of happily-ever-after was all she should expect. Maybe the liquor was messing with her brain.

Whatever it was, it'd caused her to agree to let Emma stay over with her friend. Also given her the courage to see Jackson. However, she still had enough logic to know she was over the legal limit, so she couldn't drive. She leaned against the counter and ran her fingers across the book. Serendipity, my ass. What did an old man know?

She could call Jackson and invite him over. But what if he said no. What then? She needed another drink. She picked up the paperback again and flipped it open. The acknowledgements. Nella thanked Allen and Charlotte for their story. Greer's vision blurred. Nella. Allen. Nella. Allen. Allen backwards was Nella. Allen Mooney is Nella Harper. Holy shit. Maybe they were fiction, but he'd written over sixty books about love. The old coot must know something about the subject. Yeah, how to convince women to believe in all that nonsense.

If she called Jackson, what would she say? He said to tell him when she figured out what she wanted. Hell, she wanted him. She'd made that clear. It was demanding he make that promise that caused the riff. She could fix that. He didn't have to say it. Didn't matter. She finished the whiskey, poured another, and picked up her cell phone.

*

Jackson read the tarot results one more time.

Seven of Wands shows you must fight and go after what you want. Refuse to yield and convince your love interest of what is in your heart.

Two of Swords This card signifies blocking her emotions, keeping you at arm's length, and denying her true feelings. The biggest obstacle here is she doesn't trust you're meant to be together due to your differences.

Man, she got that right.

Two of Cups works in your favor, because it shows opposites recognizing a bond is there, and seeing commonalities. Twos are numbers of balance and finding common ground. There is attraction and if you can overcome the Two of Swords, she will listen to her heart instead of logic.

Eight of Coins points to slow and steady progress, paying attention to detail, being dedicated to a task and making an effort. You can't push and expect her to realize she loves you or you belong together. You must be patient. Gradually show her you may have a different belief system, but yet have much in common, and much to teach each other.

At least he'd been doing something right. He'd not pushed. He'd been patient. Taken things slow. But his patience was running thin because time was running out. As soon as the custody case ended, she'd leave. Hell, she could be packing now.

Lovers Card shows a bond, connection, feeling love and getting closer to each other. Also, since it comes after the hard work of the Eight of coins, it shows there is a payoff here.

He wasn't so sure of a payoff, unless he changed her mind about happy endings. But according to her own prediction, he shouldn't give up. And he wouldn't. They belonged together. No doubt in his mind.

If he confessed to the bogus request, it would force her to admit it, too. Or she'd claim the reading skewed because it didn't pertain to him. But it did. The information he'd provided was real. As sharp as she was, he expected her to be suspicious. Even call and confront him, but she hadn't.

Maybe she liked her lifestyle and no matter what he promised, it wouldn't be enough to change her mind. He'd given his best argument, and she'd still not come around. Beyond the phony reading request, he didn't have a plan. He'd made it clear the next move had to be hers, but it'd been weeks and his resolve was fading.

He rubbed his neck. All the speculation was giving him a headache. Just as he'd done a dozen times, he picked up his cell phone and scrolled to her name but couldn't bring himself to call.

He needed to stop thinking about her. Fresh air and exercise would do it. After running, he'd feel better. That and pain reliever. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then took ibuprofen from the cabinet and shook two pills into his palm. He popped them into his mouth and washed them down. Out on the street, a flash of yellow caught his eye. A taxi stopped at the end of his drive, and when the door opened, Greer emerged. His heart went into overdrive. Calm down. Deep breaths. Told himself to stay cool but wasn't sure he could pull it off because he was so damn glad to see her. Unsteady, she staggered, then continued up the walk. Was she drunk?

He went to the front door and waited. He'd let her push the buzzer twice before he answered. Didn't want to seem eager. She'd figured out his little hoax and came to give him a piece of her mind. She didn't ring again, she knocked. He steeled his shoulders and swung the door wide.

Before he could speak, she lit into him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Oh shit. "I know it was wrong to send for a reading, but you have to admit even the cards say there's something between us."

She blinked as if confused.

"That's why you're here, right? The phony request?"

"It was you!" She moved closer. Placed her palms on his chest, and clutched his shirt. "Those damn cards kept coming up the same. How does that happen? It doesn't. That's freaky." She yanked him nearer and pressed her lips to his.

He slid his hand to the back of her neck and held her in place while he deepened the kiss, tasting liquor. She was in his arms and that's all that mattered.

She broke the connection and stared at her two hands still clasped around fabric. "You like this shirt?"

"It's okay, why?"

"Because I want it off." She jerked, buttons flew in every direction, exposing bare chest. She buried her face against his sternum and spoke. "Maybe chapters are all we have. Just one here and one there and maybe that's right. I'm a terrible guardian. I let Emma stay overnight with a friend on a school night. She has to borrow clothes."

She planted a kiss on his tattoo then licked him there. "Hmm, you smell good enough to eat. Nella should have used that line in a book. Or should I say Allen, because Nella is Allen. Charlotte is Charlotte, and in the story, Allen is Allen, but Nella, who is also Allen wrote the book."

Her sweet mouth pressed against him ignited a fire that quickly moved south. "Okay. I'm having trouble following this conversation, but I like where it's headed."

She pulled away and paced, waving her hands in the air as she ranted. "I mean, we're not Allen and Charlotte, but he reminds me of an older you. I'm nothing like her. She was normal and bought in to all that mushy romance stuff."

He wanted to ask who Allen and Charlotte were but decided he'd be better off to let her keep going. She seemed to be working things out, so an interruption might not go in his favor. Besides, that Eight of Coins card said patience was in order.

She pointed a finger at him. "You're a sneaky man and there's no need to deny it. You and your damn picnics and sunflowers and safari animals and chocolate chip cookies." She advanced, wobbled, then grabbed the waist of his pants to steady herself, and worked the button.

He started to help, but thought better of it. She was on a roll, so he'd let this play out.

"Be still. You have something in here I want." Reaching success with the button, she slid down the zipper and looked up at him. "Appears you want the same thing, but the question is, can I count on you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're notorious for starting and not finishing. You get me all worked up and then walk out. If I was a man, I'd have a perpetual case of blue balls. I want you all the damn time, so please, take me to bed. Screw my brains out. And for God's sake, finish this time."

"Not a good idea. You're drunk and I don't want you to claim it was the alcohol talking. You need to be clear headed about what you want."

"I'm following your instructions. You said to let you know when I decided, so here I am. I've decided."

"What? That you want me to fuck you? That's not what I was talking about and you know it."

"Get a pen and paper. I'll spell it out for you."

"Seriously?"

"Yes! Now do it! I've got to sit a minute."

He pulled out a stool, and she collapsed onto it and laid her head on the counter. "Number one."

"Wait, I don't have a pen yet." He rummaged in a drawer, found one, and wrote the first number. "Now I'm ready."

"Number one," she repeated. "I want you. Number two." She rolled her head to the side, hesitated as if gathering her thoughts. "Oh yeah. The Collin's dropped the lawsuit. Number three. I want you."

"I already have that at number one. Do I need to move it to number three?"

She pursued her lips and narrowed her eyes. "No, that's okay. It bears repeating. Number five."

"Four. We're at number four."

"Oh, okay." She straightened and attempted to rest her chin in hand, it slid off, but with a second try, she landed it. "I sold my shop and I'm staying here. Should that all be in one number or two?"

He laid the pen down and walked around the counter, wrapped her in his arms and held her. "You're not leaving?"

"Nope. I mean, yep. I don't know which answer works with that. No, I'm not leaving or yes, I'm not leaving. Which is it? Anyway, I'm staying."

He tipped her chin up and kissed her.

She pushed him away. "Stop. I have one more number. What did I leave off with?"

"Five."

"This is the best one. I'm not going to make you swear not to love me."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Not necessary. Now that I've had time to think about it, I can say it and mean it."

She slunk back onto the stool and tears rolled down her cheeks. Then she leaned forward and cried. "I waited too long. I keep making terrible mistakes. I don't deserve to be happy. That's why I'm not and never will be."

He pulled her into his arms again. "Look at me."

She bit her bottom lip and gazed up at him.

"I'll never love you...less, only more...each day for as long as I live."

-----------------------------------------

WELP, This is the end.

*drop mic*

Kidding. But it is the end.

Thanks to anyone whose made it this far, you rock

x zuz