“Same here.” He worked hard not to smile. He could have made the same speech. It was how he thought of himself.
But for the past twenty-four hours they’d had no routine at all and they’d survived just fine. Now wasn’t the time to point that out.
He reached for her hand. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.”
“Dear God, no. I hate being late for special events.”
This time he did smile. “Ditto.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jordan wouldn’t have described herself as the hand-holding type. But she enjoyed the sense of connection with Luis as they blended into the throng of several hundred people, including quite a few children. The high school pep band was rocking Jason Aldean’s My Kinda Party, inspiring some folks to dance.
A large gold ribbon stretched across the base of the steps. Adam and Tracy were working the crowd along with five others, three women and two men, probably the town council. All of them wore L’Amour and More Bookshop branded T-shirts.
If this turnout was any indication, the bookshop would be a huge success. Who said people didn’t read these days?
But clearly there were other factors at work besides just books. This stately Victorian represented a bygone era and no one except the Bridgers had been inside it for years.
A good marketing campaign would have made sure word got out about the renovations, especially upstairs. Kids had likely been begging their parents to bring them here for the grand opening. Zay would have to stand in line to wiggle through that tunnel.
A handsome-looking group stood on the Victorian’s wide steps leading to the front porch. Jordan had no trouble recognizing Desiree McLintock, aka M.R. Morrison. Her picture was everywhere now.
She’d piled her copper-colored curls on top of her head, adding to her regal, I’m in charge vibe. What a powerhouse she was. How funny to think everyone had pictured a grizzled old cowpoke as the author of books about heroes and villains of the Old West.
Desiree had taken center stage along with her husband, Andy, a good-looking guy whose calm smile telegraphed kindness and strength. The number of adults and children fanned out on either side of Desiree and Andy. The McLintocks had prioritized this trip to Mustang Valley.
“Dollars to donuts that chickie-babe wearing the eye-catching flowered hat is the famous Irish granny we’ve been hearing about.”
Jordan turned toward Kat, who’d quietly made her way over to Jordan. She was the one person who would describe a sweet-faced lady in her eighties as a chickie-babe, no doubt because she considered herself one. “What makes you think that’s Granny?”
“Well, she’s next to Kieran and he’d want to keep her close.”
“Which one’s Kieran?”
“He’s on her right. The cowboy on her left is probably Rance McLintock, the new author in the family.”
“I think you’re right about Rance. He looks like the guy on the poster I saw when I walked out to the Victorian my first night in town.”
“Take a look at that woman’s flawless complexion. Eighty-something and not a line to be seen.”
“Not from here, anyway.”
“It’ll still be true up close. That’s the benefit of living in a place where every day is a spa day. I almost moved to the UK for that reason. Then I realized how much I’d miss this family. So Spence built me a little Swiss chalet and here I am, slathering on face cream every five seconds.”
Luis leaned around Jordan and gave his auntie a smile. “You’re gorgeous, tia. I don’t see any lines.”
“Then you need glasses, sonny-boy. But that’s very sweet of you to say.” She lowered her voice. “Good job, by the way talking to Rio. Nicely done.”
“Thanks.”
Her gaze moved past him to his three brothers. They were busy debating who was who in the Rowdy Ranch lineup and hadn’t noticed her presence. “He called me. He’s over the moon.”
“I hope so. That would be a good thing.”
“He’s so looking forward to it, and I— oh, Jordan, I’m sorry, honey. How rude of me. Do you know what we’re talking about?”
“I do. He told us on the way here that he’ll be working with Luis. He’s excited about it.”
