My mind races trying to remember exactly what’s in that particular book and what he could possibly want to do to me that he hasn’t already done. “They aren’t how-to manuals, Bram.”
“Disagree,” Poppy says cheerfully, reminding me with a jolt that she’s still standing there, watching this entire exchange. “I haveseveralscenes I’ve highlighted in your books that I’d be all too happy to put to the test.”
Embarrassment once more turns my face into an inferno, but beneath the burn of humiliation is a happy glow. My Daddy not only reads my books, he thinks I’m a good writer. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to hear that, from him specifically, before right now.
He’s not going to be so proud when he finds out you turned him into the authorities.
Fuck. Tears burn in my eyes, but I blink them away and force a smile. “Okay, fine, if I accept I’m a big deal can wepleasemove on from this incredibly awkward conversation and talk about this event we’re supposed to be planning?”
Josie
“It just feels like it’smissingsomething,” Poppy says for what feels like the millionth time.
True to her word, she’s proved to be a hell of a businesswoman. But clearly something about the extensive planning we’ve already done isn’t sitting right with her.
Leaning back in my chair, I press a hand to my rumbling stomach. “Can we figure out what’s missing after we eat something?”
“That’s my cue,” Daddy says with a low laugh. Pushing up out of his own chair, he pins us each with a stern glare. “I’m going to go get us some lunch. You two are going to lock the door behind me and so help me if you aren’tbothstill in this store when I get back.”
To me, the threat is implied, but I can see the wheels turning in Poppy’s mind. “What are you gonna do?”
“To you? Nothing.” The corner of Daddy’s lip pulls up in a smirk. “I’ll just tell the sheriff and let her deal with you.”
Red floods Poppy’s face. “I’m not scared of Reese Donnelly.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, while you come lock the door behind me.”
“Bossy assholes. I’m surrounded by bossy assholes,” Poppy mutters, but she does, indeed, get up to follow him out of the back room.
She returns a minute or so later and flops down in the chair across from me, pinning me with an unnervingly sharp gaze. “So what’s the deal with you and Bram Thorne?”
Panic digs sharp talons into my chest. “What do you mean?”
“I dunno, there’s just… something. Like you only got to town what, a week ago? Maybe two? But I swear it seems like you two have known each other way longer than that.”
I force myself to shrug as my mind goes into overdrive. Should I tell her the truth? Can I trust her? Clearly she and the sheriff have something going on, but if the sheriff isalsointo Grayson…
“Sometimes it’s just like that, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her expression clears, her usual bright smile once more returning to her face. “Itisa super cute coincidence, though.”
“What is?”
“You know.” When I only stare, she rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. I read in an interview you did once that your favorite novel ever is Dracula and you just happen to fall in love with a man namedBram? Like Bram Stoker? What are the odds?”
The odds are, indeed, infinitesimally small.
So small, I can’t believe I didn’t notice before. I’ve been so caught up in my own grief, my own misery, I didn’t see what was so clearly in front of me.
He chose his name for me. Even twenty years ago, when he was probably convinced he’d never see me again, he tethered himself to me in a small but permanent way.
And how did I repay him? By trying to get him arrested.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” Hurrying around the table, Poppy crouches beside me, laying a hand on leg and squeezing. “You look like you’re about to cry.”
“I really fucked up, Poppy. I did something really, really horrible and Bram is never going to forgive me.”
