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Here’s the thing—when every guy you’ve dated dumps you for a witch who can summon a flock of doves with the snap of her fingers, as opposed to yourself, who can’t even conjure one mosquito in the middle of a swamp, you tend to get a little guy shy.
However, when you’ve been dating someone for six months and he suddenly asks you to dinner at the best restaurant in all of Nashville to talk about something important—completely out of the blue, I might add—it’s absolutely logical to think said guy is about to pop the question.
Isn’t it?
You don’t have to answer because I know it’s true.
So that’s why I’m currently shrugging on my coat and pointing myself toward the exit of Bookworm, the store where I work.
I love books.
But we’ll get to that.
“Addie, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
My spine snaps to attention at the familiar voice of Mr.Roberts, one of our store regulars. I turn slowly, my gaze dragging from the door that I really want to be launching myself through to the elderly man.
His thin gray hair is coiled on his head as if he’s just run his hands through it in an attempt to create the world’s worst mohawk. His eyebrows match in color, and they wing upward, as do the hairs jutting from his ears, which are so long that they’re currently waving at me.
Even though Mr. Roberts has hair hygiene that makes me cringe, he’s a sweet old man.
He runs a plump hand down his tweed vest. “Addie, I just wanted to thank you for that last book recommendation. I lovedRemains of the Day.Really spot on. Whenever I need a good read, I know who to ask.”
I thumb the buttons of my coat into their holes, trying to be quick as to subtly hint that I’m in a hurry. “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Roberts. My pleasure. After all, it’s what I do, recommend books.”
He pumps his brows. “Are you sure that you didn’t inherit any of the magic in your family? Because I’d swear that it’s magical the way you can always point me toward my next perfect read,” he adds with a chuckle.
I wince at the mention of my family, but he doesn’t notice. In my world, magic is out in the open—all the supernaturals are. There’s no need to hide that we’re different anymore, unlike the old days.
I smile. “My particular talent has nothing to do with magic and more to do with knowing a person’s taste.”
He stares at me a moment, drinking in the smart black coat and the peeking hem of my dress. The plum-colored dress is soft and clingy, but I butchered the tag when I cut it out, (missing half because I was in a rush), so it’s irritatingly itchy against my back.
He takes in the heels on my feet before his gaze tracks backup to my face, where he scans the auburn curls cascading down my shoulders, as opposed to the messy bun I normally tie my hair into.
“You look like you’ve got somewhere important to be.”
“I do.”I’m getting engaged!“But I’ll be back tomorrow if you want me to help you find a new book.”
“Yes, certainly.” His expression drops. “Don’t let me keep you. Whoever is waiting for you is truly a lucky fellow.”
And that’s when the guilt kicks in. There’s no way that I can abandon Mr. Roberts without locating his next read.
“My plans aren’t more important than you. In fact, I bet you’re ready for adventure after finishingRemains.”
Surprise flits across his face. “In fact, I am.”
“I knew it.” I cross to the shelf and grab a hardback novel. “This isFallen Out.It’s by Wayne Stinnett, and is your typical murder and mayhem in paradise.”
He eyes the cover before breaking into a smile. “It looks marvelous. I’ll take it.”
Cha-ching!
“And I was also thinking of grabbing something about the fae.”
“Oh, um, I’m not sure we have anything.”
