“We got those at a discount from our supplier and had to at least see if anyone was interested,” Raina said with an apologetic wince.
“That’s a hard ‘no’ on those, but a definite ‘yes’ on the chicken salad. You can tell Camille that it’s delicious and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Raina laughed, then said her goodbyes and headed back to work. Weekday mornings at the bookstore were always slow, so once she was gone, I was left alone with my thoughts and, despite my best efforts, the doubts and anxiety came bubbling back to the surface, making my stomach churn.
The rest of my lunch went uneaten.
***
The bell over the door jingled at ten after five on the dot, as it almost always did these days. I didn’t even have to look up to know who had arrived, and I started smiling immediately.
“Hey,” Donovan’s warm voice greeted me as he came around the counter, leaning in and kissing me when I looked up at him.
“Hey,” I hummed. I’d just seen him this morning as we were getting ready for the day, but I took another moment to just stare because… damn. With his olive skin, golden brown hair, and impossibly dark eyes, Donovan Parker was easily one of the most attractive men I’d ever met. He wore nice slacks and a button-up for work most days and when he shrugged off his coat, I saw that he’d rolled up the sleeves to bare his forearms.
I would never understand why he’d chosen me, of all the people in town, to take a liking to. Working at the bookstore was a pretty sedentary job, so between that and Camille’s pastries, I desperately needed to hit the gym. I’d never been a particularly fit guy, but since coming to Lowery’s Crossing, I’d gained weight. My hair was always too long, I was always pale, and none of that was even taking into account the whole ‘seeing ghosts’ thing. Donovan could have had anyone in town, but he’d chosen me for some reason, so I’d do whatever I could to keep him.
“How’s the day been?” He took up the stool Raina had vacated hours ago, facing me.
“Slow, as usual. Mrs. Denton bought out half the self-help section, but I was too afraid to ask why. I get the feeling Mr. Denton is going to be sleeping on the couch soon, though, if he’s not already.”
Donovan laughed. “Until I met you, I never realized how much you could learn about someone just by their reading choices.”
“Aunt Lizzie used to let me sit behind the counter when I was feeling more social and she’d spin all kinds of stories for me. She knew just about everything that happened in town and we used to try to guess why someone was buying a certain book,” I admitted wistfully. I missed her still, but time had dulled the sharp edges of my grief, allowing me to remember her and smile.
“One of these days, you really have to let me see her photo albums. I want to see little teenager Alex.”
“No, you really don’t. I was completely hopeless at thirteen,” I grimaced. “I mean, I’m not much better now, but—”
“Nope.” Donovan cut me off, shaking his head. “No putting yourself down on my watch.”
I rolled my eyes and it took a real effort not to smile. “Just telling the truth.”
“You, Alex Copeland, are anything but hopeless. You’re smart. Kind. Funny. And you’re gorgeous.” He leaned in, punctuating each word with a little kiss until my face burned.
“Okay, okay, no more self-deprecating. You win. Now stop complimenting me,” I conceded, squirming in my seat. “I think that qualifies as a form of torture.”
Donovan laughed again and stole another kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”
“Or you could not do that and you can take this.” I reached under the counter and pulled out the book I’d ordered for him. He took it and looked at the cover, a smile soft and warm as the sunrise spreading across his face. He was always an attractive man, but when he looked at me like that, my breath caught and I remembered all over again how much I loved him.
“You noticed what I’ve been reading?”
I nodded, giving myself a moment to remember how to speak. “Yeah. You looked like you were close to finishing the first one the other day, so I went ahead and got the next one, in case you wanted to read it.”
Since we’d started officially dating, Donovan had been spending his evenings at A Likely Story with me. I ran the shop alone from 10:00 to 7:00 most days. Since Donovan got off work at 5:00, unless he was on an urgent case, there were two hours between our quit times, which meant we only got a few hours to spend together each night. Donovan had solved that problem by coming here after work and hanging out.
At first, we’d just talked about our days and ourselves and each other, getting to know each other more. After one particular evening where I’d gotten a bit worked up about a new book that’d come out that I’d adored, Donovan had asked to borrow it. For the next three days, he’d come in, given me a kiss, and curled up in a cozy armchair nearby, devouring the book. That had become our new routine, and Donovan claimed I’d turned him into a bookworm. I was okay with that.
“You sat there trying to convince me that you’re not perfect, when you ordered me a book just so I wouldn’t have to wait to keep reading it?” He shook his head, still smiling.
“It’s not a huge deal or anything, I just…” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my sweatshirt. It was an older one, emblazoned with the store’s logo on the front, and the edges were ragged from years of me picking at them.
Donovan noticed, of course. He always noticed. He placed the book on the counter, then took my hands in his.
“I appreciate it. I did finish the last one yesterday,” he said, and I could have kissed him for not trying to heap on praise or anything right now. “I’m going to settle in while you wrap up, okay?”
“Okay. It’s my night to make dinner. What sounds good?”
