“I do not.”I followed her into the bookstore.
Her cinnamon scent had a new layer. Whatever the salon had done to make her hair look like a golden halo probably had something to do with it.
The difference between her costume last night to the woman in front of me was a bit jarring. She was wearing a pair of white corduroys and brown ankle boots with an oversized sweater in a butterscotch color that made me want to reach out and see if it was as soft as the rest of her.
The bookstore was surprisingly big inside and one of my favorite places. I herded her toward the back of the store where the bookcases were taller than me and could give us a little cover. Her beautiful head was on a swivel as she took everything in. I ushered her deeper into the store when I spotted someone following us.
“I wanted to look at that book.”
“Later,” I said close to her ear. “We have a tail.”
She sighed. “Of course we do. How do you know how to spot them?”
“Because I had quite a few of them when I first won the lottery.”
“I can’t believe you won the freaking lottery.” Her voice was incredulous. “Who actually wins that?”
“Me. I’m pretty sure the taxes alone could have fed a medium sized country for a year.”
She snickered. “So can mine.”
I hooked an arm around her waist and guided her through a narrow doorway.
“Where are we going?”
“Where they probably won’t find us. Maybe.”
She did a little twirl in the children’s reading room. This time of day there were only a handful of kids and they were all more interested in their piles of books than who we were.
I hustled her into the corner where a tree was painted on the wall with little leaves for the book fairy. One of my favorite charities I’d set up for the bookstore. If kids didn’t have the money for a book they could pick a leaf off the tree and turn it in at the front desk for a book of their choice.
I also had donated a lot to the library in secret to keep them afloat as well.
Reading had saved my life, and I wanted to make sure kids could have the same joy I did. Even when money was tight, my mother always found a few dollars for a comic or book for me.
The sound of a butt hitting a bean bag chair dragged me out of my musings. Her eyes shined up at me. “I always wanted one of these things.” She crossed her long legs and snuggled in then held out gimme hands. “Find me a book.”
I laughed.“What’s your poison?”
“Adventure.”
I turned around and spotted one of my favorites as a kid and pulled it off the shelf and handed it to her, then dropped into the bean bag chair beside her.
“Don’t you want a book?”
“I’ll read over your shoulder.” I shifted in the big bean bag chair until I was behind her.
She snuggled down. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m definitely sure.”
She opened the book and the immediate peace that came over me was staggering. So much so that I hadn’t realized just how wound up I’d been after a long day dealing with the business of creating a dream.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat there reading together, head-to-head.
“How did I not read these as a kid?”
“Maybe gods and monsters weren’t your thing?” I tucked my chin over her shoulder.
