“Earth to June,” Jamie’s voice broke through my thoughts. She was holding out my book, a knowing smile on her face. “They are something to look at, aren’t they?”
I blushed, embarrassed at being caught staring. “Sorry, I was just... distracted.”
“You and half the women in Altavista,” Jamie laughed, nodding toward the bikers. “Those two have showed up three times since you were last in. Best advertising I never had to pay for. They even post about it on social media. They are gaining followers!”
“Really? Last I looked it was only like fifty.” Shit, I’d given myself away.
She nodded. “I think it’s a few hundred now, and their following is growing. The romance reader communities are loving the trend. Biker boys flirting with book babes.”“It’s a trend?”“Yeah. Those two didn’t even start it. They tagged the guys who came up with the idea in one of their posts.”
I took the book from her, my fingers tracing the embossed title. “Four of Hearts” promised to deliver even more of what had kept me up reading until my eyes burned—two dangerous men devoted to pleasuring one lucky woman.
Outside, the blonde was fully engaged with Milo, who had taken off his helmet.
They seemed completely absorbed in conversation. But the quiet one—he remained apart, helmet still firmly in place, arms crossed over his chest. And unless I was completely delusional, the angle of his helmet suggested he was looking not at the blonde or his friend, but toward the bookstore.
Toward me.
No. That was absurd. He couldn’t see me through the tinted glass and displays. And even if he could, why would he be looking at me when there was a literal sunshine goddess outside flirting with his friend? He was probably just keeping watch, making sure no one messed with their bikes or something.
“I can see why it’s good for business. It’s like something straight out of a romance novel, isn’t it? Mysterious bikers showing up at a bookstore where women buy fantasies. Kind of... meta.”
Jamie laughed, passing me my receipt. “All I know is they’ve tripled my Instagram followers and brought in brand new customers.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “That blonde out there came in yesterday asking for ‘whatever book has guys like that in it.’ Left with three motorcycle club romances and a promise to come back.”
“I’m not surprised,” I blurted out, then wished I could take the words back. “I mean, they’re obviously—” I stopped, my cheeks flaming.
“Hot as hell? You don’t need to tell me. I’m happily married, not blind.”
I laughed, relieved that she’d finished my sentence with something less revealing than what I’d been about to say.
“Thanks for holding the book for me,” I said, tucking it in my bag. “I should get going.”
“See you soon!”
I pushed open the door, stepping back into the heat and light of the real world. The quiet one’s helmet turned, with unmistakable intent this time, to follow my movement as I emerged.
I froze, one foot on the sidewalk, caught in the invisible beam of attention from behind that dark visor. My body seemed to understand something my brain refused to acknowledge—that the tension between us wasn’t imaginary, that the awareness wasn’t one-sided.
The blonde was still chatting with Milo, oblivious to the silent exchange happening just feet away. For one wild, suspended moment, I considered walking over. Saying something. Anything.
Instead, I clutched my bag tighter, ducked my head, and hurried in the opposite direction.
Chapter 4
Milo
The wrench slipped inmy sweaty hand, clanging against the metal frame of my Honda. I cursed under my breath, wiping my palm against my jeans before trying again. The barndominium was sweltering today, the overhead fans pushing around hot air like a convection oven set to slow-cook us.
Xavier sprawled on the couch across the room, his attention completely absorbed in his phone, thumbs scrolling with an intensity I’d never seen him apply to anything except his bike. He’d been like this for days now—distracted, secretive, weirdly jumpy whenever I asked what he was doing.
I knew he was reading, and that he didn’t like to talk about his books. He had this weird idea that they made him a dork, probably from something his asshole of a dad had said. But he’d been my best friend since the third grade, so I had no idea whyhe thought I’d suddenly decide to ditch him if I caught him reading a book.
“Dude,” I called out, adjusting the carburetor screw a quarter-turn. “You said you’d help!”
Xavier grunted something unintelligible, not even bothering to look up. Whatever was on that screen had him in a trance.
“You know what? Fine. Be useless.” I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. “But I’m putting on some background noise if you’re not gonna talk to me.”
No response. Just the soft tapping of his thumbs against the screen and the occasional subtle shift of his body on the couch. I narrowed my eyes, studying him from across the room. His jaw was set in that way it got when he was intensely focused, but there was something else too—a tension in his shoulders, a deliberate stillness in his lower body. Almost like...
