I choke on my water.
“Your boyfriend’s pretty great. You’re a lucky lady,” Matt adds.
Bella, Brodie, and Chase all chime in collectively.
“Oh, yeah, she’s really lucky.”
“Super-duper lucky.”
“The luckiest.”
I chug most of my water as Matt walks away, hoping the cool liquid will stop the rush of blood to my face. When Chase nudges my knee with his, I already know it’s too late.
Fantastic.
“So, Little Silver,” Brodie says, tearing a piece of sourdough bread from the basket in half. “How’s the job hunt going?”
“It’s going,” I say, as I swirl my piece of bread into rosemary oil.
“Do you have any other interviews lined up?” Chase asks.
“I had an informal meeting with Ink and Print earlier today,” I explain. “It’s a bit of a process. If I impress them, the team will give me a small project to complete, and then I’ll have to present it to them before going through a formal interview.”
“That’s great, Erin,” Bella beams. “I’m sure you’ve already impressed them plenty.”
“Do you know what kind of task they’ll set?” Brodie asks.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I just know it’ll be book related.”
“Sounds like it’s right up your alley,” Chase says, carrying a playful spark in his eyes.
“I’ve heard positive things about them. Hopefully, we click,” I say, trying to sound hopeful.
“I happen to have a connection to a bookstore and the library here in Huxley Bay,” Chase says, leaning in a little closer while Bella and Brodie deliberate over the menu in front of them. “If being around books is what you want, I could make a few calls. That is, if this place doesn’t work out.”
His tone is easy, confident but not cocky. It wraps around me, like the sun’s embrace on a hot summer afternoon.
“The library actually isn’t far from where I live,” he adds. “I could visit you on your lunch breaks. Say the word, Bookworm. We could have a quiet little setup in the back, somewhere between the stacks.”
“Somehow, Eighty-Seven,” I say, fighting a grin, “I don’t think you’d do too well with the no-talking rule.”
His lips curl, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I’d purposely break it. It’ll be hard to hear that beautiful laugh of yours if we can’t talk.”
My cheeks heat, a sudden rush firing up my body, as my heart races and my thoughts scatter, and before I can say another word, he reaches for my glass of water. His fingers brush against mine as he hands it to me without breaking eye contact.
“You’ve got a little something,” he murmurs, teasing under a controlled voice. “All over your face.”
I gulp down the rest of my water then lift the menu to shield my flaming cheeks.
Too late.
He’s already seen. The low chuckle that comes from him goes right through me, setting off those damn butterflies.
He’s just a guy.
This is just lunch.
I can have a conversation.
