She looks up from the book and meets my eyes with a questioning look.
“It’s yours,” I tell her, nodding. “Maybe we can talk about it when you’re done reading it.”
“Definitely,” she tells me before rocketing off after her dad.
“Don’t touch anything,” Roan says from the doorway. “We’ll clean up.”
And just like that, they’re gone before I can say another word.
And I’m left standing among the wreckage of my shop, wondering what just happened.
3
ROAN
Istart the engine and pull the truck out from the curb in blessed silence, willing my pulse to return to normal.
I love my daughter beyond all reason, but she asks a lot of questions. And I want a minute to think about my new neighbor, and why she has me sweating like a teenager every time she looks up at me with those innocent eyes.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I’m relieved to see that Meg is still really lost in her new book. I think I remember some of the other kids reading it when I was around her age. I was more into hockey than the library back then.
I head down Celestial Lane, knowing I should be appreciating the picturesque town and the clean, mountain air.
Instead, I’m wondering how many customers I’ll miss out on by trying to replace the bookshop window before dark. The worst part is that it wasn’t even my fault. Those dumb Manhattanites insisted on grabbing their tree themselves, and it ended up pretty much how I expected.
Now I’m stuck spending more time withTaylorand trying to ignore her bright eyes and plump lips.
And it’s not just the way she looks. It’s the way she looks atme.Everyone here knows me as “Phil Connelly’s boy” or “Meg’s dad.” Or maybe even “that poor guy Erica made a fool of.”
But Taylor is new here, so she doesn’t see any of that. It’s been a long time since a woman just saw me as a man.
And the way her cheeks got so pink when she looked at me makes me think maybe I’m her type of man.
“Are you a grump?” Meg asks suddenly, rousing me from my guilty daydreaming.
I’m not sure exactly how to respond. I probably am. But I don’t want my perfect daughter to have to think she has a grump for a father.
“Taylor said that the landlord is a grump,” Meg continues.
Of course she did.
“I know what she said,” I put in, then change the direction of the conversation. “You really like that book she gave you, huh?”
“It’sawesome,” she says, thankfully following my lead.
“What do you like about it?” I ask her.
She springs into a full description of everything happening in the book so far, which seems to me like a typicalit was a dark and stormy nightbeginning to me, but clearly means so much more to her.
“Meg isnormal,” she says in amazement, like somehow that’s a selling point. “No, maybe evenbad. She tried to beat up a boy for saying something about her little brother.”
“That happens,” I say, nodding. My brother got me into plenty of trouble, so I guess I can relate to this book more than I thought.
“Do you think she’ll get more kids’ books?” Meg asks dreamily.
“I don’t know,” I say, hoping to get off the topic of Taylor.
“She said she would,” Meg says hopefully. “Do you think she’ll haveWings of Fire?AndPercy Jackson?And the Dogman books?”
