“Sorry. I don’t do secondhand roses.”
“Ah.” I toss it back to the table. “I didn’t expect otherwise.”
“Strict orders, huh?” She tilts her head as she continues to bear those violet eyes into mine. I’ve dreamed a thousand dreams about those eyes while I’ve been in New York, and now I know why. I’ve missed them. More than that, I’ve needed to see them live and in person. “Maybe I should take the afternoon off. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with your girlfriend.”
“Ooh.” I slap my chest and whine as if she just shot me. “Maybe you should.” I drape my arm around her shoulders. “I just might show you a good time yet.”
And that’s exactly what I plan on doing—showing Missy a darn good time right here in Gingerbread.
* * *
“Where to?”I ask as we hit the frozen air just outside of the bakery. The sky is dark and heavy, but Main Street looks cheery and bright with its festive décor. Ropes of garland decorate every streetlight, every stop sign—and a cheerful wreath hangs in every window and door as far as the eye can see, each one punctuated with a bright red bow. When Tanner and I were kids, our favorite thing to do was to come down here just before Christmas and listen to the carolers at night. That’s something I’d love to do with Missy, maybe bring Noel with us, too. “You got the afternoon off. You’re the boss.”
She bites down on a smile as her eyes light up. “I do like being the boss.” She takes up my hand and begins racing us up the street, but my full attention is on the fact her warm fingers are holding tight to mine. “The hospital has a donation box for the children’s unit each year. Santa comes to their unit Christmas morning and distributes all of the presents. It’s a really big deal. I like to do my part and add to the magic.” She stops in front of Peabody’s Bookstore. Her entire countenance glows as she pants through a smile. “What better gift to give than books?”
All of those memories of picking Missy up from the library, meeting her there to sift through the stacks come rushing back. Missy has been a bookworm for as long as I have known her. One year, Nick asked what she wanted from him for Christmas, and she said books—young adult mysteries, I believe were the order of the day. So I’m not surprised in the least Missy believes that books are still the best gift going. My lips curl to the side at the thought.
“What better gift to give than books, indeed,” I say as I hold the heavy glass door open for her. Missy strides right in, and I take a moment to enjoy the vanilla sweetness she leaves in her wake.
Peabody’s Bookstore has been a staple in Gingerbread far longer than I have—than either of us has been. Inside, the thick scent of paperbacks takes me back to a simpler time, a time when I didn’t have to worry about sales reports, deals falling through, or trying to upsell a building that should have been condemned to begin with. I give a sigh of relief as I take a look around the colorful establishment. Rows and rows of shiny new books abound in every direction, each one just waiting to find its reader. The display in the center of the store is a Christmas tree comprised solely of books that stretches to the ceiling. It’s an architectural feat on a micro level, and judging by the wonder on Missy’s face, I can tell she’d love a tree just like this one in her own home. Now that’s something I’d love to make happen for her someday.
“Don’t you just love it here? I mean, who wouldn’t love to run wild in this place and scoop up all the delicious books they can carry? Reading isn’t only good for the mind, it settles your spirit in a way like nothing else can. How else could you possibly travel the world, traveltime, live a thousand lives—all without leaving the comfort of your home? My perfect day consists of eating and reading next to a cozy fire. Can you imagine if that’s all there was to do in life?” She groans as if she yearns for that day with everything in her. “And no matter how old I get, I still have a place in my heart for picture books.” She pulls me in by the arm and squeals as she leads us to the children’s section—rife with holiday pop-ups, board books, chapter books with cartoon covers, and a rainbow painted bright over the wall. “Since I’m a bookworm by nature, I figure it’s never too early to get a kid reading.”
“I do love it here,” I say, thumping a book calledOodles of Purple Noodles. It sounds like something I would have loved as a kid—especially if I happened to be stuck in the hospital. Missy has a heart of solid gold, and as much as it warms me, it makes me proud to see her as the generous woman she’s grown up to be. “And I couldn’t agree more. I’m a bookworm by nature, too.”
“No, you’re not.” She looks up at me, disbelieving. “You’re forgetting we have a long, and dare I say, annoying history together. I know you too well to believe you.” Missy starts right in on snapping up book after book.
“I’m not kidding. Reading’s been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember. My mother got me started by bringing me right here to this very bookstore. I don’t think I’d be who I am today without spending copious amounts of time combing the aisles of Peabody’s.”
Missy stops short and frowns over at me, her left brow hiked up on one side. “You wouldn’t be who you are today?” she tosses my own words back at me with her mouth agape. “So the moral of this cautionary tale is that I should probably put these books back.”
I bark out a laugh. “What’s so bad about me? You’re not afraid of a little success, are you?”
“Are you kidding?” Her eyes grow twice their size, and my stomach squeezes tight. Missy is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. My heart starts hammering, my adrenaline races through my veins, and I want nothing more than to kiss her right here in the middle of a display that expounds the differences of elves and trolls. And speaking of kisses, those soulful exchanges that happened last night are quickly becoming the elephant in the room. I’d love to bring it up, but for the life of me I can’t figure out how.
Missy hands me the stack of books in her arms, and I marvel at their heft a moment. This seemingly innocent pile easily weighs twenty pounds.
“Graham, let me be the first to tell you that you didn’t have a little success.” She shakes her head my way. “You are living the dream. You left Gingerbread and hit the jackpot in New York City of all places. I’m surprised they haven’t done a write-up of you in the paper.”
I wince a moment before confessing, “They may have called, and I may have forgotten to get back to them.”
“Ah-ha!” She arches a brow. “Well, at least you’re hard to get insomecapacity.” She speeds past me as she snaps up picture book after picture book.
“Whoa.” I take off, struggling to catch up with her. “Was that a dig at my friendly nature?” My chest bounces with a silent chuckle. “You would be right, though. I haven’t exactly played the part of recluse for the last few years.” A move I’m quickly regretting. I’m pretty sure it’s the last thing Missy is looking for, someone with a long history with just about everybody. I know I wouldn’t want that for her. My heart thuds hard in my chest because it’s becoming increasingly clear that I do want something with her.
She twists those pretty little lips in a bow while kneeling to pick up a stack of felt covered books with the titleThe Christmas Puppy and His Magic Bone.
“Hey, at least you’re honest.” She pops right back up and drops another load into my arms. “And speaking of honest.” Any trace of a smile glides right off her face, and her lips do that quivering thing. My stomach spikes with heat at the sight because I’m terrified she’s about to cry. A part of me is wondering if this is when she’ll bring up last night. If I’ve done anything to hurt her, I don’t think I could forgive myself. “Sabrina doesn’t quite know you’re over, does she?”
My eyes close a moment. As relieved as I am that it’s just Sabrina she’s worried about in truth, I’m a bit worried about that situation myself. “I don’t think a skywriter could properly convey the message. But I’ll do my best to make it clear.”
Missy groans and shakes her head furtively. “Whatever you do, you have to leave me out of it. That woman has a vengeance out for me like no other.” Her mouth opens and closes as if she chose to cut loose whatever else was about to bubble from it. “Anyway, I don’t really want to talk about Sabrina.” She cranes her neck over at the children’s book section one last time and gasps before speeding over to the table in the center of the room. “The Night Before Christmas!” She wraps her arms around the hardback, cradling it close to her chest, and I can’t help but envy the book right about now. “Oh, I love this storysomuch! My mom and dad used to read it to us on Christmas Eve before we went to bed. I’ll have to get a few of these for sure. It’s the best Christmas book ever!” She hesitates a moment. “Would it be weird if I bought one for myself?” Missy thumbs through the book quickly, moaning and cooing with every turn of the page.
“That part wouldn’t be weird, but if you made those noises each time you read it, your neighbors might think you’re strange. On second thought, your neighbor already knows that about you.” I give a slight wink. “Get the book. We can read it to Noel on Christmas Eve.”
Her features soften as she looks to me with those watery lilac eyes. “Really? That’s so—sweet.” She shakes her head as if it were an impossibility.
“Yes, really. I think Noel needs some quality time with both her parents.”
