It was her favorite place in Gandy, a three-story converted house stuffed with floor-to-ceiling shelves, creaky wooden floors, and the smell of old paper and possibility. The owner, Gus, had been collecting books for forty years and seemed to know the location of every single one.
Bringing Mac here felt significant and slightly terrifying.
"Okay," Rachel said as they stood outside the shop, her hands twisted nervously in front of her. "Some ground rules. First: don't judge me for how many books I buy. Second: when I disappear into the stacks for an hour, that's normal. Third: if you get bored, tell me. We can leave."
Mac looked at her with that patient, amused expression he got when she was overthinking. "Rachel. We're going book shopping. I'm not going to get bored."
"You might. Books aren't everyone's thing."
"They're your thing. So I'm making them my thing." Mac opened the door, the bell above it chiming. "Now come on. Show me your world, remember?"
The shop was quiet on a Saturday afternoon, just a few browsers scattered among the stacks. Gus looked up from behind the counter, saw Rachel, and immediately grinned.
"Little Morrison! Haven't seen you in months!" Gus was seventy-something, with wild white hair and reading glasses perpetually perched on his forehead. "Thought you'd moved to Mars."
"Just Evergreen Cove. Close enough." Rachel crossed to the counter and accepted Gus's brief hug. "Gus, this is Mac. Mac, Gus."
"Boyfriend?" Gus asked, looking Mac up and down with shameless interest.
Rachel's cheeks heated. "We're— I mean, we've been on a few dates—"
"The boyfriend then," Mac confirmed, extending his hand with that easy confidence Rachel envied. "Nice to meet you, sir."
"Sir? I like him already." Gus shook Mac's hand vigorously. "You treat Little Morrison right, you hear me? She's special."
"I know she is."
The simple certainty in Mac's voice made Rachel's heart skip.
"Well then." Gus gestured expansively at the shop. "Browse away. New stock came in yesterday. Romance is upstairs, mystery is in the back, and the good stuff is wherever you find it."
Rachel led Mac deeper into the shop, running her fingers along familiar spines. "Okay, confession time. I might have gotten a little excited and made a list."
"A list?"
Rachel pulled out her phone, showing Mac a carefully organized spreadsheet. "Books I want you to read so you understand my entire personality through literature. It's color-coded by genre and importance."
Mac stared at the spreadsheet. Then at Rachel. Then back at the spreadsheet.
"This list has thirty-seven books on it."
"I shortened it from ninety-two."
"Rachel."
"What? Thirty-seven books is a very reasonable introduction to my literary preferences!" Rachel grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the stairs. "Come on. We're starting with the essentials."
The romance section was Rachel's happy place. Floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with everything from historical to contemporary to paranormal. She pulled Mac into the narrow aisle, immediately scanning titles with the focused intensity of a hunter.
Mac watched her with unconcealed fascination.
"What?" Rachel asked, noticing his stare.
"You're different here. More... you." Mac leaned against the shelf, his arms crossed, smiling. "The librarian Rachel is very professional and composed. This Rachel is practically vibrating with book excitement."
"Books make me happy."
"I can tell. It's adorable."
