Jaxson hummed and nodded. “Mark’s… Mark.” He smiled at that, like it was an inside joke, one that I understood. “He’s scared of possibilities. He trusts people, and when that trust is broken—”
“I haven’t broken his trust, at least I don’t think so.” I ran a hand through my hair and huffed out in frustration. “Can’t I go talk to him, figure out what’s wrong?”
“No.” He stood straighter, but he had nothing on my height. Compared to me he was an ant, small and fragile, but sometimes power came from more than size. Jaxson seemed like a guy who had a lot of mental authority. He held himself like a man who controlled the world. Well, maybe not the world, but he helped control New Gothenburg. “We’ve already had enough scandals in this city hall to last us a lifetime. Are you sure you didn’t do anything to him?”
“I swear, if I hurt Mark, I didn’t mean to. But I was at work when he left, and he didn’t even tell me what I’d done wrong.”
Jaxson nodded and held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
I didn’t question him, pulling out my phone from the right breast pocket of my plaid shirt and passing it to him. He typed on it for a second before giving it back. When I looked down at the screen, an address had been searched on it, and I glanced at him questioningly.
“That’s Mark’s place. Go there after work.” He held his finger up to me. “But I swear to whatever higher being you believe in, Camden, if you hurt him in ways that are unforgivable, I will obliterate you. I’ll have the help of the mayor behind me, and he’s an obscenely wealthy fucker who fights dirty. Got it?”
Relief washed through me as I smiled in answer.
He tugged at his tie to straighten it and returned a grin. “Don’t fuck up. I like Mark, and you were doing him good. He was happy and relaxed. Mark isn’t usually like that at work, so I could see he enjoyed being with you. So make it better.”
With that he strode past me toward the elevators. I wished I could follow him, but I wasn’t going to push my luck. The security guard still eyed me suspiciously, daring me to make a wrong move. I nodded at him and walked back out of city hall. With all afternoon to spare, I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t worth going home, and the girls were at summer camp, with Liv at work. I thought about going to visit her, but she was always so busy as a research assistant at a law firm. She was employed by Clint Mansfield, and the firm he owned did something with tech law that was always way over my head when Liv talked about it. She said the guy ran a tight ship, so I didn’t want to get her into trouble.
After ten minutes of deliberating, I decided to go to the bookstore in the outdoor mall. It was one of only a few left in New Gothenburg, and what was a better way of saying sorry to Mark than with books? When he’d said he loved reading, I hadn’t truly known what he’d meant until he stayed at my house every night. He would stay up late, his black-rimmed glasses on his nose as he read one paperback after another. I’d asked him if he had a Kindle and had gotten a glare for my trouble.
“They aren’t bad devices,” he said with a frown. “But I prefer the real thing in my hands. You should see my library at home. It’s massive.”
I remembered thinking how I could build a library in my house for him, which had made me realize how I truly felt about him. He was important, and I wanted to accommodate him however I could. I had a spare room; it would be easy enough to change it into a sitting room with bookshelves. The light from that side of the house was bright, too, and it would give him enough sun to read during the day. I hadn’t had the chance to start the project or talk to Mark about it, though. Working twelve-hour-plus days had left me tired and mentally exhausted.
The bookstore—Jovey’s Bookshop—was a cute little business with wooden beams, floorboards, and shelves. It had nooks and crannies with cushioned seats and tables to settle coffee on, where people could sit and page through books. In the far-left corner of the store was a Keurig where customers could brew their own coffee, tea, or hot chocolate for a donation of a few cents. It was all very homey and reminded me of the stores I’d visited as a kid with Mom. She loved reading, too, and she’d always read a good story to me every night before I went to bed, a tradition I kept alive for Addy and Ellie.
The young man behind the counter glanced up at me when I walked farther into the store, his eyes widening considerably as his gaze traveled up, up, and up until he reached my face. His mouth popped open in a wideO, and he shuffled backward then forward around the counter in a hurry. He nearly tripped over his feet to get to me. I would have laughed if I wasn’t so frustrated about Mark.
“Can I help you, sir?” He batted long, blond eyelashes at me and smiled, a lip piercing trapped at the corner of his mouth. His hair was gentle waves of sandy blond, and he had a baby face—way too young for me. Not like Mark, who had maturity far beyond his age.
“I’m looking for books for my boyfriend.” I smiled softly. Guilt twisted in my gut when disappointment flashed across his face and his shoulders slumped. Yeah, I understood this guy perfectly, but I had my man, and he wasn’t talking to me.
“Of course. What genre does he like?” He still grinned politely and straightened again, tugging at the green apron with the words Jovey’s Bookshop written across it in gold embroidery.
“I… don’t know. I never asked.” Frowning, I thought back to the titles he’d read while in bed with me. “He reads books likeThePillars of the EarthandBetween the World and Me.”
“Hm. Thoughtful literature and books with a message behind them. I like him already.” The young man smiled, and I glanced down at his gold badge with the name “Princeton” written in big, bold black letters. It was a strange name, but not the worst I’d heard, not when celebrities were calling their daughters Apple. “Has he readThe Tattooist of Auschwitz?”
“I… don’t know.” I scratched the back of my head in shame.
He smiled encouragingly. “That’s okay. It’s a beautifully written book but very sad. If he enjoyed those other two, I bet he’ll enjoy this one. Let me help you find some more books.”
My shoulders relaxed and I gave him a relieved look. “That would be good. Thank you.”
I spent two hours in the bookstore and another three out in the mall, eating and people watching. I even started reading one of the books I’d bought Mark, and by the time five came around, I was resolute in getting him back. He’d made me too happy to let him go. I’d build him a thousand libraries if that’s what it took to have him in my arms again.
I worked my way back to my truck and drove to the address Jaxson had given me. It wasn’t far from the city, in a suburb that wasn’t great, but wasn’t bad, either. Some of the homes had uncared-for grass and shrubs growing, but Mark’s street was one of the nicest ones I’d seen in the area, with well-kept homes, even if they were tiny. They couldn’t have been more than two bedrooms.
I parked my truck on the side of the road, half up on his yard, as I stared at the house made from stone cladding, which looked nice but was nothing better than veneer applied to the outside. The curtains closed over the windows matched the trim, and the plaque for the house number gleamed a warm burnished gold.
A bright white walkway led up to a black metal door, and while the lawn was cut short, there wasn’t any decorative plant life to be seen at the front. It was very clean and sleek. I opened the door and stepped out of the truck. Mark’s car wasn’t here yet, which meant he wasn’t home from work, so I decided to wait on his small front stoop, which consisted of a stone-gray step.
It didn’t take him long to get home, and the moment he caught sight of me, his hesitation was clear in the way the car slowed down and he frowned out the windshield. He parked the vehicle anyway, and when he got out he was tense. He moved slowly, his pace thoughtful and careful like he expected me to jump him.
“Hey,” I said when he finally reached me.
He looked as handsome as always in a charcoal suit. His hair was tamer than I enjoyed seeing on him, like the first time we’d met and he’d purposely straightened it. I preferred it wild, like him, as red and natural as flames. He crossed his arms, his bottom lip trembling. “What are you doing here, Cam? I was clear in my text.”
