I really start feeling like a creep, so I softly clear my throat.
"Hey," I say, keeping my voice low so I don’t startle her. I also try to hunch over a bit, not wanting to loom over her. At the sound of my voice, she glances over her shoulder. I'm almost knocked on my ass as I get a good look at her face. Now I know I have not seen her before, because that's a face I would have remembered.
Pretty. Really pretty.
"Oh!" she gasps softly, standing up quickly. Plot actually glares at me for catching her attention and causing her to stop petting him. She gives me a small smile, and I feel my heart stutter and then kick hard at the sight. "Hi."
"Hey. Welcome in, can I help you find anything?" I say, clenching my fist and trying to calm my body’s reaction to this beautiful woman.Act like you’ve seen a woman before, Callum.
She looks a little sheepish. "I'm so sorry, I know you guys are closing soon, I just got distracted. He's so cute," she says as she smiles down at the little monster now rubbing himself against her leggings, getting gray hair all over the black fabric.
"Huh... you must have a magic touch," I tell her, genuinely surprised at the gremlin's behavior. "Plot can be... a little mean to most."
"Probably sensed the day I've had and is having mercy on me," she mutters, picking the canvas tote off the ground and gently pulling it over her shoulder, careful of the food inside.
My ears perk up at her statement, but I file it away for now.
"Were you looking for something specific?"
She nods, looking a little unsure. "Do you have—" She tilts her head side to side, trying to find her words. I stand there patiently watching her think—it's not exactly a burden to look at her. She's... quite beautiful. "—do you have a book with a... really happy ending?"
I smile immediately, knowing I can give her exactly what she needs. I've always loved reading, ever since I was a kid. Mymom would bring me to the library and just let me go crazy, reading anything I could get my hands on and borrowing as many books as possible. I felt true escape and peace sitting up in my treehouse and reading for hours and hours. Anything and everything, I wanted to read about it.
When I turned twelve and started noticing girls, that’s when I started reading romance.
I was a pretty shy kid, uneasy and self-conscious in my skin and my size—a little chubby if we're being honest. Kids were cruel and made fun of me, so books became a way to escape, where I could pretend to be the handsome hero in my stories, brave and not afraid of being called names while changing for gym.
Things changed once I hit fourteen. I hit a growth spurt and shot up to 6'2", looking more and more like my tall, broad dad. Then, when I started working with him on job sites, assisting him, I shed my baby weight and finally stopped growing at 6 '4 ". Girls started noticing me then, and the guys in my grade stopped calling me names, not really wanting to bully the kid who was a whole head taller than them.
Books are still my escape, but after my dad died, anything with too much angst or a depressing ending hurt too much, so I started looking for books with a happily-ever-after only.
Enter: Tonya De Luca, a sarcastic and abrasive tattoo artist in our town. We met at a local grief support group she started attending after she lost her wife in a car accident. We related to each other since she's an avid reader too, and I started talking about escaping through books after my dad died—but only books with happy endings—and she joked that we should start a book club.
So we did, and theEver After Always Book Clubwas born. Now we're up to seven members, a nice little family we've formed.
My brain must be working at half speed, though, because the answer that I give her is, "Yeah, I can definitely do happy endings."
The words are out, and only then do I actually hear what I just said.Happy endings.Oh no. Her eyebrows rise, and her mouth twists as if she's trying not to laugh. She fails as a small giggle breaks through, and my ears go hot.
"Uh—books! Books with happy endings, guaranteed happy-ever-after books. Only. Not—the... uh—massage-parlor kind—"
I can't talk anymore because I'm too busy gazing at the sight in front of me. She's laughing—her whole face lit up. She smiles with her whole face, eyes crinkling in the corners, eyes almost closed, mouth wide, showing off a perfect smile, and—damn—if joy doesn't look beautiful on her.
I'm full-on smiling now, my embarrassment snuffed out becauseImade her laugh.
"Thank you," she says, lifting up the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her wet eyes. She beams up at me, the sight of it catching my breath for a second. I can feel my mom's eyes on us, watching and observing, but I can't look away from this woman in front of me.
"You’re welcome? I’m happy to help.”
"No, I'm serious. Thank you. I just... today has quite literally been one of the worst days of my life—probably the worst if I'm being honest—and you just made me forget about it for a second,” she takes a deep breath and shakes her head, wiping her eyes once more.
"Oh," I frown, not liking the sound of that.Worst day of her life?What the hell could have happened?
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad I could make you feel a little better."
"You did, you really did," she murmurs softly, holding the bag on her shoulder as she reaches out her hand. "I'm Sophie."
Sophie.I let it settle in my brain, in my chest. Pretty name, pretty girl.
