Grabbing a pair of jeans, I quickly yank them on and reach for my white canvas sneakers off the shoe rack. It was chilly out earlier, so I grab my sage green sweater and pull it over the soft white T-shirt I'm already wearing. I shove my socked feet into my shoes and swing my tote bag over my shoulder with a small smile—I didn't lie, theRivers & Rhodesbag is my favorite now.
Locking the apartment door, I rush down the stairs and look at the clock on my phone.
Rivers & Rhodesis a twenty-minute walk, fifteen if I power walk. I could take my car, but finding parking would take too long.
"I can make it," I reassure myself, and head out into the pleasantly brisk late-summer evening with that end-of-day lightthat makes everything feel golden.
I make it in seventeen minutes.
Just as I reach the front steps, I spot Callum through the glass door, already reaching for the deadbolt to lock up.
His brown eyes meet mine, and I give a small wave, trying to catch my breath. I take him in in one sweep—oh, wow.
Callum's dressed in a short-sleeve white T-shirt stretched just slightly over his broad chest, worn-in jeans hugging long legs, and scuffed dark brown boots on his feet. There's a watch around his left wrist, the brown leather weathered and worn.
His face freezes when he sees me, and my stomach drops. I wonder—for onehorrifying moment—if maybe he'd only offered the invitation out of pity. The thought wedges under my skin like a splinter.
But then, as if someone had flipped a switch inside his brain, his entire face transforms.
His beard twitches as his mouth curves into a wide, unashamed smile, so earnest it steals the air from my lungs.
He pushes the door open for me.
"Sophie!"
His deep voice is pure warm honey, and he sounds genuinely happy to see me.
If I could bottle up the feeling in my chest right now...
"Hi," I say, my voice breathless as I close the distance between us. "I'm so sorry, I'm a little last-minute—"
"No, you're right on time," he cuts in, holding the door open wider with a grin. "Come on in."
I step into the warm store, watching as he locks the door and flips the sign toCLOSED.
There’s a cacophony of soft conversation with a sudden burst of laughter deeper into the store. Callum's grin widens as he looks at me, leading me toward the noise.
The shop smells much like it did when I came in on Thursday—like cedar and that distinct, amazing smell ofbooks, but now with the scent of coffee added in.
It's wonderful, and I breathe deeply, letting the comforting mix of scents ease my nerves.
Through a beaded curtain near where Maeve read my tarot is another room—decorated with more warm wood furniture and lit by soft lamplight.
A hodgepodge group of people sits around a long wooden table in mismatched chairs, talking at the same time and laughing with the ease of a family.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I spy a Plot sleeping curled on the cat tree in the corner of the room. I laugh as his fluffy paws twitch, probably stuck in some dream chasing mice.
That tightly coiled knot in my stomach loosens even more.
A heavily tattooed woman tosses a coffee stirrer at the man sitting across from her, scoffing at what seems like his passionate analysis of the book he's using as a shield.
"You're so full of shit, Parker," she says, running a hand through her straight, bleached-blonde hair.
"That's Tonya," Callum murmurs beside me and smiles when I meet his eyes for a quick second, a note of amusement in his voice. "Her bark's worse than her bite."
"How dare you," Tonya calls over with a grin, catching the tail end of his words. "My bite islethal."
She raises the mug in her hands and takes a sip, steel blue eyes trained on me now—sharp, but not unkind. Her fingers, wrapped around the mug, are adorned with mismatched silver and gold rings. Thick black eyeliner sweeps out from the corners of her eyes in a sharp line, and her bright red lipstick is flawless as her lips quirk into a grin.
