“I’ll get it too,” Eddie says, grabbing the copy in my hand and one more for himself.
“No.” I honestly don’t think I could get the word out any faster. Whipping my head towards him, my curls whip with me. Is he teasing me?
“No? Why not? You’re getting it,” Eddie asks with a too-big and too-goofy smile on his face.
“It’s spicy. Look at the cover.” I try to reason. Romance authors are clever and enjoy being funny with their discreet covers. I know better than to think of the words cute, soft, and fluffy when holding a cartoon cover in my hands. The book would have as much of a chance of being filthy, slutty, and a completely different type of good time as a book with naked people on it.
“It’s cartoon characters,” he says with a shrug. His eyes stalk over my face, stopping at my eyes, then my nose, my lips, and deviously slow back up to my eyes. This man is tempting me.
“It’s not just cartoon characters; it’s on a romance book cover.” He has no idea what he is getting into and would think I am crazy once he figures it out.
“You’re not explaining what’s wrong with me reading the book?”
“Cartoons don’t mean that there’s not an intense level of spice in this book,” I whisper, stepping closer to him, hoping he can hear me better. With this romance book grasped between his fingers, he is stepping into dangerous territory, and he doesn’t even know it. He’ll either be disgusted or fall so deeply into the hole there will be no light to be seen on the other side—a first-class ticket straight to hell.
“Spice is what exactly?” he asks, tilting his head closer to mine. Are the bookshelves closing in, or is it me? I can’t pull my eyes away from his, and I’m sure he can see my bottom lip tremble. The smell of books can’t calm me down when Eddie’s body is all I can process. His forehead is nearly touching mine. Gosh, why is he asking me these questions while staring sointently at me? Is it bad I kinda want to reach my hands around his neck and bring his lips to mine? Yes, yes, it is bad. All I can smell is his scent surrounding me. It is too good—distracting.
“Spice is...” I mumble, scrunching my face, trying to think of a polite way to put it. “Tension, heat, sex.”
“It’s always the shy, quiet ones that are freaky, huh?” he jokes, and all I can do is break eye contact and swat his arm.
“Put your copy back,” I say, trying to reach for the book in his hands.
“I think I’ll give this spicy book a read, Miss Buttercup,” he says, walking towards the cash registers.
“Eddie, wait,” I say, pulling on his arm. “At least read the trigger warnings.”
“These books come with warnings?” he sputters. We continue on our trail to impending doom that’s waiting for us at the registers and beyond. My cheeks couldn’t be any redder.
“Willow, I’ve read these kinds of books before; I’m only yanking your chain.” He couldn’t have mentioned this five minutes ago? I lift my head up as embarrassment slowly drains from my body and wonder replaces it.
“When?” I couldn’t have asked in a tone any lower than I did, and I know I sound like a kid, but you don’t meet many men who read romance.
“My mom had these all over the place; they were the only books she’d read.” He’s so nonchalant, confident, uncaring. It unsettles me, and I hate it. It appears easy for him to be the super cool jokester. It makes me wonder if it’s a facade.
“She sounds amazing.”
“She is.”
Checking out isn’t nearly as painful as I thought it was going to be, and walking side by side with Eddie is as easy as breathing. Except that every time I get a whiff of his scent, I lose my balance, and wow, why does he smell enticing?
Why am I not quite ready to go home? It was my unplanned day off, and here I am with someone besides myself, walking the streets of Rainfall Avenue without the need to rush home. It’s a cool summer day, and while I am still covered in sweat, so is Eddie. I had forgotten how nice it is to hang out with people who have the same shifter animal as me. Not only is my bear swooning inside due to the handsome company we have, but I feel at peace. Sure, someone tried to kill me yesterday, but Eddie’s here, and Layla, Flora, and Luxe. Never did I think I would have such a comforting group of people surrounding me, yet here I am.
“Watch out,” Eddie orders. His arm shoots out in front of me as his head turns to the opposite side of the street.
“What?” What could he have possibly stopped me for? Was someone following us? Oh my, was I gonna die?
“You are about to step right into spilled ice cream,” he says, wrapping the arm that stopped me around my shoulders, guiding me away from the direction of the car. “Speaking of ice cream, let’s go get some.”
The ice cream shop is small. It is designed as a carousel, and the center is where we order and get our ice cream. He got a s’mores-flavored bowl with gram crackers on top. I’ve never tried that flavor, never wanted to venture away from my cookie dough, but with Eddie here, the s’mores flavor is calling to me.
I watch as he sets our—I meanmy—shopping bags down and sits at a small round table with a golden pole coming up from the middle of it. Even as I sit across from Eddie, a big, strong bear shifter, I can’t help surveying my surroundings constantly now since his abrupt ice cream spillage warning.
“Willow.”
“Yeah?”
“Eat your ice cream.” I can’t stop searching around, lifting my spoon without looking at it. What if Ghost is here? Following me here, right now? “I think it’s time.”
