I know Colonel will reimburse me from the trust, so I keep a spreadsheet of expenditures and start a folder in my brand-new NutsforBooks inbox for receipts so I don’t have to watch them pile up. I’m being as frugal and reasonable as I can be, but it’s just really, really fun selecting your own book cart and thinking about pushing it around your own bookstore. I was the kind of kid who once asked for office supplies for Christmas, so this is pretty much the best day of my life.
And then I have to do the hard part: I have to set up accounts and learn how to buy books and choose a POS system and and and…
Opening a bookstore is not for the faint of heart.
When my latte is nothing but lavender foam with crunchy bits and I have online shopping fatigue, I feel an immense sense of satisfaction. Nathan is in the kitchen working on hors d’oeuvres for a bachelorette while Nick gets the rooms ready, so I toss my cup and call out my thanks and goodbyes.
“You’ll be at Craft Night, right?” Nathan calls back.
And I promise I will be.
When I enter the bookstore, I’m floored by how much work has been done. The skeletons of shelves line the two main walls. Even more impressive, Hunter is carrying a board, his flannel tied around his waist and his muscles bulging. I watch him slide the board into place, where it fits perfectly. I can already imagine lining up the books on these shelves, making little labels to designate genre, dusting them every day before I flip over theOpensign in the window.
He turns and sees me, and his eyes light up.
“Everything good so far?”
I look him up and down. “Oh, yeah. Everything is amazing.”
I can’t help running a hand over the marzipan-colored wood. It’s a little rough, but the whole room smells like progress and hope. Hunter is watching me inspect his handiwork, his arms crossed, a few blond hairs falling over his eyes. I turn to him and go up on tiptoe to tuck the hairs behind his ear.
“You really are building my dreams. I kind of can’t believe it.”
Oh.
Oh, it’s happening again.
He’s looking down, I’m looking up. I’m drawn to him, like being around him makes me feel light and floaty. My lips part, I hold my breath—
And he knows what to do.
He kisses me.
And my God, what a kiss.
Strong hands grasp my jaw tenderly as he steps into me, his lips landing on mine, soft but with a desperate intensity. I tense up momentarily at the suddenness of it, the certainty. This man knows what he’s doing, and he does not waver. His mouth is warm, firm, hungry, and my hands are suddenly determined to touch him. I trail my fingertips down his sides, feeling the curve of ribs, the hardness of muscle. Hunter Blakely is a sturdy, powerful man accustomed to molding reality with his calloused hands, and he is making a different kind of magic bloom in my blood as he kisses me with his entire body.
I answer in kind, meet him eagerly. He’s pressed against me, and he walks me backward three steps until my butt hits the wall, pinning me there in the most delicious way. I follow his lead; this man can move me any way he wants to as long as his lips keepworking against mine, his tongue sliding along until I open my mouth enough to grant him access.
Somewhere—light-years beyond the cage made of our bodies, the warmth pooling between us, the hot breath passing from him to me and back again—something bangs against the wall.
He pulls away, dragging his thumbs along my jaw.
“I think your ghost doesn’t approve of me,” he says, voice low and teasing.
I look up into his eyes, and it’s like he really sees me, more than anyone ever has.
“It doesn’t like anything but fishbowls and charades,” I answer, a little breathless.
His fingers reluctantly leave my face. “So I…should’ve asked if that was okay.”
“If it wasn’t okay, I would’ve pushed you away.”
“You shouldn’t have to push a man away.”
I let my head fall back against the wall, put a hand on his chest, right over his heart. “I don’t want to push you away.” I curl my fingers into his shirt and give it a tug. “I…kinda want to pull you back for more. So let’s just say, from here on out, I’ll let you know if something isn’t okay, but until then, don’t stop.”
A devastating grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
