“Hi, welcome. Is there anything we can help you find today?” one of them asked, a short, petite brunette with vivid sapphire blue eyes. Her impossibly curly hair was loose around her shoulders and down her back. The other woman, a blonde with shoulder length blonde hair and red rimmed glasses smiled at him from the other side of the counter. Bright red lipstick painted her lips, and she wore an AC/DC band tee.
“I’m looking for a couple books. I don’t know the names of them or who the author is. Something about spicy Greek mythology?” he said, stepping forward. Rows and rows of bookshelves towered through the small shop.
The blonde nodded. “There are a few options. Want us to show you and see if anything rings a bell?”
“Yes, please,” he said, following both women as they turned down a row, between two of the towers of shelves. They stopped in front of a selection and the brunette pointed out a few.
“This is theHades and Persephone Saga.” He glanced at the covers and shook his head, not recognizing the artwork on the covers. “Umm,Lore of Olympus? That’s more fantasy.”
His eyes widened and he snapped his fingers and said, “Dark Olympus.”
The brunette smiled and reached for another selection. “All of them are right here. Are you looking for any in particular?”
“The last two, whichever those ones are,” he said, smiling, too.
“Perfect,” the brunette said and plucked two off the shelf, handing them to him. “Anything else we can help you find?”
“No, just these for now.” He followed her back to the front ofthe store, where he placed them on the counter for her to ring them up. She packaged them neatly into brown paper, sealing them with a sticker, before tucking them into a brown paper bag embossed with the store logo. Holding the bag out to him, he took it. “Thank you.”
“Hope she loves them,” the blonde called as he walked away.
He nodded and grinned. “She will.”
CHAPTER 21
Unlocking the front door, she stepped inside, arms full of groceries. Hauling them to the kitchen island, she huffed as she hoisted them up, setting them down none too gently. It was dark outside, and with her hands full, she couldn’t flip the lights on. A single streetlamp across the street shining through the small kitchen window was all the light that was afforded.
Through the darkness of the kitchen, she could just see the pint of Cherry Garcia as it rolled out of one bag and toppled off the counter and onto the floor, thudding dully. She barely caught the bottle of wine before it went the same direction, with a much messier fate than the frozen treat.
Netflix. Cozy socks. A big fluffy blanket. Ice cream. Popcorn. Wine. Comfort movie.
What a crazy birthday night this was going to be. Thirty-three was lookingpretty intense.
Rolling her eyes, Val scoffed to herself. She’d told Noelle she had a date tonight, just to keep her sisters from breaking down her door and inserting themselves into her evening. She didn’twant to people tonight. She just wanted to wallow and binge swoony rom coms. Alone.
Reaching out, she finally flipped the light on in the kitchen and froze.
A giant bouquet of vivid pink peonies, white roses, and sunshiny yellow freesias sat in the center of her counter. Next to it was a neatly wrapped rectangular package with pink, yellow, and white ribbon. A pink envelope sat perched on top, leaning against the flower vase.
She picked up the card, her hand shaking when she recognized Beau’s messy scrawl across the front. Opening it, she read the simple Happy Birthday, then her eyes lowered to the bottom of the card.
To add to your book-dragon collection.
Opening the gift,she found the two books, the ones she had mentioned to him that she still needed to finish the series. A slip of paper fell out of one of them and fluttered to the floor as she thumbed through it, and she bent down to pick it up.
Even if you’re on a date with another man,
your body will always know it belongs to me.
Even if it started as a fake date,
we both know it wasn’t, sweetheart.
“Oh, you arrogant, slimy mother fucker—”
Stomping across the floor, books still clutched in her hands, she wrenched the door open and slammed it closed behind her, striding across the landing toward his door. Raising her fist, she pounded on the heavy wooden door of hisapartment. She knew he was home. Could see the thin strip of light from beneath the door. She slammed the flat of her palm against the door again. She waslivid. Howdarehe— And who was he to get jealous of a date? A date that she had made up, but that was beside the point—
The door swung open, and she looked up into his face, into those impossibly dark chocolate brown eyes. His expression was impassive, as seemed to be his usual now whenever he looked at her. Shoving the books into his chest, she barely made him budge, the big dumb brute, and she snapped, “You know what, fuck you, Beau! I didn’t need your pity date because of some ridiculous promise you made to my dad, and I certainly didn’t need your pity fuck! Or your stupid books! And—and why would you care if I’m going on a date?!”
