“Yeah, but that’s really smart.” Marley looks at me like she used to, and for a second, it feels like we’re back to where we used to be, brainstorming ideas sprawled out on the couch with coffee and notebooks. It was our favorite place to be.
“I’m not that smart. I’m just working with what you’ve already built.”
Her gaze meets mine with playfulness. “Don’t undercut yourself, lumberjack. I’ve always been impressed with the way your brain works.”
In this moment, I’m not sure if it’s the sugar or reality, but I swear she’s feeling something too.
Chapter Three
Marley
Okay, it’s a lot harder to see Tex than I thought it would be. I remembered how big, tall, and intimidating he is, the kind of presence that fills a room, but I forgot how safe I feel around him. It’s ridiculous. Eight years should’ve dulled that feeling. It should’ve erased the way his arms felt around me. Instead, it all came rushing back.
And how does the man look even better with a gray beard?
He leans up from the counter and wanders the bookstore as though he’s taking note of everything I could change. I know I asked for this, but I’m a little nervous. For some reason, I want him to think I’m doing well, even though, clearly, I’m not.
“Where are you keeping the new releases?”
“I keep them in each section on a table.”
“We should move them up to the front of the store, front and center, so everyone can see them. We want folks to know we’re not all vintage. We’re selling the new stuff too.”
I nod, feeling a little stupid for not thinking of that myself. Of course, the new releases should be up front.Who wouldn’t know that?
“The real question is… do you still sing when you stock the shelves? I used to love listening to you.”
My chest tightens and warms. It’s been so long since anyone has said they like listening to me sing. Richard’s usually the first to remind me how off-key I sound.
I shouldn’t compare the two guys. It’s not fair, and it’s pointless.
I follow Tex’s massive frame through the store, trying not to notice the way the flannel stretches across his back or the new tattoo he has on his forearm. I can’t tell what it is from here, but it looks like it has horns… or is that an axe?
“Everything else looks nice. You keep the place in good shape. Your grandpa would be proud.” He turns toward me, and we’re standing in the same familiar place we stood so many years ago. Him, towering over me. Me, staring up, our bodies less than a foot apart.
Why do I feel a pull towards him? Why do I want him to kiss me? God, I need to get a grip. He’s here for work. I’m here for work. Like seriously, what the hell is wrong with my head?
I’ve barely thought through the horrid, illicit thoughts I’m having when the bell above the door rings and a familiar voice echoes through my shop.
“Hey, babe.” Richard lets the door slam behind him like he always does. “Where are you?”
“Is this the new guy?” Tex bites back a grin, his tone low. “We used to make fun of people who called each other babe. You hate babe. What changed?”
I gather he’s poking fun, though I wonder what the intention behind it is.
“He’s not really new. We’ve been dating for five years, and babe is cute and light.” I shrug as though I believe the words I’m saying, though he’s right. I hate being called babe. It’s generic and lazy. I’ve told Richard like a thousand times that I hate it, but I think that only made him want to use it more.
I’m still staring up at Tex when Richard finds us in the back. He reaches his hand out immediately. “Shit, dude! You’re huge.”
Tex nods toward Richard and shakes his hand, dwarfing every inch of him in every possible way.
“How’s the evaluation going? I keep telling Marley she needs to modernize this place, but I’m sure you know, she’s stubborn as hell.”
Tex pinches his lips together and crosses his arms over his chest as though he’s trying to contain himself. “She’s not wrong keeping the store vintage. It’s what makes the place charming. People love historical places.”
My chest swells with a smug radiance I haven’t felt in quite a while. I’ve had so many conversations with Richard about this shop, and he’s always trying to force me to modernize. It’s never a simple suggestion either. It always turns into a power trip, like somehow whatever ideas he has are better than mine.
It’s kind of nice to hear someone take my side.
