“No way!” She smacked his arm. “I’m dying to meet Pumpkin.” She scooted to the edge of her chair and grabbed the handle as if she planned to jump out at the dog’s first bark.
He gave her ayou’re crazylift of his eyebrow. “Pumpkin?”
“Yes. Pumpkin.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you live under a rock. The dog is a legend in the book world.”
“So you don’t want Brenda’s autograph?”
“Weeelllll.” She pretended to think—even though there was no question she’d stand in live for hours to meet the author who penned one of her favorite books. “If there was time. I wouldn’t want to rush a Labradoodle.”
“Of course not.” Russ nodded in all seriousness before chuckling. “You’re cooky—you know that?”
“I prefer to think of myself as eccentric.” Like all the great women in literature, she could keep a man on his toes if she wanted to keep his interest. “Cooky sounds like I’m one step away from being weird.”
He glanced over, his eyes holding hers for a moment longer than necessary. “Trust me—you make cooky look good.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that suposed to be a compliment?”
“The biggest.” He flashed a grin and her heart lifted and butterflies filled her stomach.
They pulled into a spot in front of The Bottom Drawer, walked inside, and made quick work of scanning the shelves, only to come up empty-handed.
Barry, the owner, wandered over and asked what they were looking for. Russ explained their assignment, and he nodded. “I’ve had a few people come through here with similar assignments. Some books I have, others I don’t. What you see is what I’ve got.”
“Thanks,” said Alice as he headed back to the sales counter.
Russ delved into an online search again while Alice checked out the other books on display.
“Maybe we could bring her a copy of something else?” Russ asked hopefully. “If she likes it, make sure I get credit.”
“Throwing me to the sharks? Some friend you are.”
Russ winked, turning Alice’s thoughts to cotton candy. He reached out and brushed back a stray piece of her hair. “It was stuck to your lips,” he said in a low tone.
“Hmmm,” was the only sound Alice could produce. His fingers felt like a caress, igniting a slow burn in her stomach and tickling her skin.
Russ stepped back, which allowed the golden evening sun slanting through the front windows to warm her face.
Blinking, Alice grasped for their thread of conversation. “There’s nothing here I’d dare offer up in place of our assigned title.”
“What about that new antique shop?” Russ jerked his chin in the general direction of Harvest Ranch’s latest venture.
“I don’t think it’s open yet.”
“Well, there’s a few more sites I want to look at. Let’s walk around the lake.” Russ offered his elbow. “Here, you steer while I browse.”
Alice hesitated. Walking arm in arm seemed so intimate. She had held hands with a few guys and kissed even fewer, but none of them had wanted to take the poor trailer park girl home to meet their mom, so she didn’t waste kisses on them. Russ’s open acceptance of her was one of the things she loved about him. He sawher. Not her past. Not her parents. Justher. And she always felt like enough, never lacking in his eyes.
That almost kiss the other night, though in the least romantic location she could conjure up, had been the most romantic thing she’d ever experienced. There were plenty of romantic spots around Tortoise Cove. The Kissing Nook was an enchanted spot where couples had shared first kisses for generations. Perhaps she could steer Russ that direction, and they’d be able to recapture the moment they’d shared on her birthday. She moved alongside him and took in the calm waters in an effort to slow her speeding heart.
Now that the weather was cooler, the geese had flown south, leaving the welcome quiet atmosphere of a room after a party. Yellowing grass crunched under their feet until they found the walking path, and the golden and rust-colored leaves twirled through the air. The route meandered around the Kissing Cove with its cluster of trees that circled a clearing of wildflowers tucked against the bank.
“You seem content.” Russ’s eyes didn’t leave his phone.
Alice did a mental fist pump. The Brontë sisters’ training had paid off if Russ was unaware of her nerves. “Fall is my favorite season. The start of a new school year always held possibilities. People see it as a time when the world dies, but I like to think of it as taking a deep breath before jumping into extremes.”
“Like the extreme cold of winter.”
“Right. Followed by the extreme effort of spring and the extreme heat of summer.”
