Happily Ever Never (Montgomery Ink Legacy)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

May

“I’m looking for forever. I want that moment. It’s just so hard in this day and age when you can’t figure it out. Or maybe it’s always been that way. Maybe you expect to find someone, and yet you feel you’re going to end up with nobody, and in the end, it surprises you.”

I looked up at Josh, the kind man in front of me, who happened to be my date for the evening and smiled softly. He seemed earnest enough about wanting this to work out. And while part of me had heard this refrain before from my dates, I let myself believe him. At least, for now.

“It would be nice to have things work out for once.”

I winced as the words left my mouth, knowing they were a little too vague and far too desperate.

For all I knew, I had just given Josh an invitation to grab my butt on the way out of the restaurant.

Or lead him down the long road of him thinking that I was in this for the long haul, even though I didn’t remember his last name.

Or maybe he would think I was too clingy and run away before the desserts were served.

I’d only had one person leave me on a date before. He’d climbed out the window in the bathroom as if it were too much for him.

As if I were too much for him.

I ignored those memories, telling myself that they didn’t matter. They shouldn’t matter. It wasn’t like it was my fault that every single date I went on ended up horrible, awkward, or just not right.

I was looking for that spark. That one moment where everything made sense, and I could see him as my forever.

I just wasn’t quite sure I was good enough at dating to find it.

“I’m so glad we’re on the same page, Maybelline.”

I held back a wince, hoping it didn’t show on my face.

“My name is actually May. M. A. Y.” I smiled softly as I corrected him.

I didn’t want to make him feel bad, but my mother had named me May after my late aunt, the woman who had saved my late father’s life when they were children.

She’d died in a flash flood at only fourteen years old but had rescued my then ten-year-old father in the process.

The legacy that came with my family meant that our promises to each other and how we cared for one another was paramount.

When my father had been dying later on in life, he’d asked me to make him a promise: follow my heart and be open.

To try to find my forever, even if I wasn’t sure I wanted one.

So I would marry for love…but first I had to try.

I cherished the name I shared with the woman I had never met, whose courage allowed me to exist.

Josh blinked. “I’m sorry. I thought it was a nickname. I like Maybelline.”

Well, that wasn’t awkward at all—another strike in the NO column. But if I kept making NO columns, I would never find that happily ever after. Once again, it would be a happily ever never.

Trying to find common ground, I scrambled. “I used to use their makeup. I think I still have a face wash from them.”

He frowned, looking oddly perplexed.

“You know, the company? ‘Maybe it’s Maybelline’?”

“But I thought you said your name was May. Are you messing with me? I’m not stupid, you know. I don’t like it when people make me feel stupid.”

His cheeks flushed, and I held back a wince.

“Sorry, I think I’m just confusing myself.”

“Oh,” he said, his face clearing immediately. He reached out and patted my hand patronizingly. “Don’t you worry, Maybelline. I’ll make sure nobody ever does that to you. It doesn’t matter if you sometimes confuse yourself. I will never do that.”

I pulled my hand back, knowing this date was a disaster. There wouldn’t be enough YESs in the pro column for me to get through this.

“May. My name is May.”

“Why are you getting angry? Here, do you want me to order dessert? I’m going to order us dessert. Although maybe we should share.” His gaze moved pointedly to my chest and then slid down the curves he could see across the table.

And that was another no.

“It was lovely meeting you. I’ll be sure to tell my aunt how tonight went.” I put money next to my empty plates and pushed back from the table.

“Where are you going, Maybelline? I don’t know why you’re acting like this.

I thought women wanted us to be honest. And you could use some honesty in your life.

Especially in that tight skirt that barely covers your…

assets. I have some ideas on how to help you in the future with that so you don’t plump up when you get old. Well…older.”

I barely resisted the urge to empty my water glass on him, mainly because it was only a few ice cubes at this point.

“Honesty is wonderful. Being cruel and talking about someone’s weight isn’t. Especially because my weight has nothing to do with you. My curves have nothing to do with you. And now I’m going to make sure that my aunt knows her accountant’s coworker is an idiot.”

“Hey, I don’t like to hear those words.”

“Then don’t be one. Have a great day, Jake.”

“My name is Josh.”

“See? It’s rude when somebody uses the wrong name.”

I resisted the urge to stomp out of the restaurant.

My hostess gave me a thumbs-up, and I shook my head. “Thanks for a lovely evening.”

“What did he do?” she asked, and I was grateful for this woman who, while not a friend, knew me well enough from my bad dates that I counted her as a nice acquaintance.

“Nothing relevant. It’s just not going to work.”

“I would’ve slapped him upside the head with my notepad, but the manager was watching,” the other waiter said as he came forward. “Seriously, you shouldn’t even have left money for the bill.”

The humiliation stung, but I simply smiled and acted as if I weren’t embarrassed about the fact that somebody else had heard his comments. I didn’t know the rest of the staff well, though I had been on a few first dates here.

Never second dates. I didn’t get second dates. I had a feeling that as soon as I walked out the door, everybody would be talking about my lack of a second date. For all I knew, there was probably a betting pool.

How many first dates can May get before it’s the end of the line? Until she runs out of men to date at all?

Was it me?

The common denominator was me. Maybe I just wasn’t good at first dates. Perhaps I needed to get over myself and ignore the NO column completely. After all, I was nervous on first dates. On the other hand, maybe my dates were, too, and that was why everything ended up going horribly wrong.

In fact, the only first date I’d had recently that had been nice, albeit without sparks, had ended up being with my new employer—my friend currently in love with one of my best friends.

That wasn’t awkward at all.

“As for paying my half of the bill…I just want to get out of here. Not that I don’t love the food. You guys do make an amazing bisque.”

“We do. Will we see you soon?” the hostess asked, then cringed. “With your friends,” she amended.

I smiled, nodded, and waved, ignoring the twinge in my chest. She likely assumed I would be here again for another first date that would inevitably crash and burn.

There was that one time the guy bailed on me.

Or the time another had shown up with his four kids—which was fine when I assumed it was a childcare issue.

But no, he’d wanted to go on a date with his wife, needed a babysitter, and thought I could do it since I was sitting alone at the next table over.

There was the time the man showed up, grinned at me, and ended up arrested on a bench warrant halfway through the hors d’oeuvres.

At another restaurant, my date had tried to grope me under the table before we could even finish introducing ourselves.

Then there was the other married guy.

And the widower who cried in my arms as I cried with him, holding him as the waitstaff walked around us, nervously wondering what to do.

That one had broken my heart. I still talked to him and had even introduced him to his new wife, a soft and sweet woman who wasn’t the first person he’d tried to date after his late wife passed.

I had been through my share of first dates. And I hated it.

I got to my car and checked my phone for the time.

“Six-thirty p.m. That’s a new record for me.”

I rolled my eyes and started my car, heading out of the parking lot.

With a sigh, I saw a familiar lit sign and smiled.

I did not want to go home. I didn’t want to watch TV, read a book, or study the latest articles and research for my field.

I didn’t want to prep for my day with Luke, the little boy that I adored and cared for during the day.

I didn’t want to focus on my childcare management classes or the lessons I would be teaching at upcoming seminars.

I didn’t want to do any of that. So, instead, I pulled into the parking lot of Montgomery Ink Legacy, turned off the car, and hoped to see a familiar face or two.

Some days when I came here, I even brought Luke since he loved to see the man I knew would one day be his stepfather.

I was Luke’s nanny. And it might not sound lush and high-end to some people, but I loved my job.

I loved making sure that Luke’s life was enriched, and Brooke didn’t have to worry about him when she was at work—not that my friend wouldn’t worry.

She excelled at it, but she trusted me with her son and her future, which meant the world to me—more than most things.

Brooke’s boyfriend, Leif Montgomery, owned this tattoo shop, a place where I would one day get a tattoo when I was ready. I’d only been in a couple of times before, and for some reason, I just wanted to come in here tonight.

The tattoo shop was set in a strip mall that didn’t looked nothing like strip malls from when I was a kid. There were gorgeous trees, fun, artsy shops, and cute cafés everywhere. It was a nice place to be, and I liked coming here.

I walked inside and grinned at the two people who I knew the best.