“Says the guy who gets paid to stand around and look intimidating,” I shot back, grinning.
The bookshop was warm and inviting, shelves upon shelves creating little nooks that practically begged you to curl up with a good story. Brenna’s personal touch was everywhere, from the hand-painted signs to the mismatched, overstuffed armchairs.
“So,” Brenna said, eyeing me suspiciously. “What’s up? You’re not exactly my most… literary customer.”
I leaned against the counter. “Can’t a guy drop by to see his lovely sister?”
“Well, it would be a first,” Brenna deadpanned. “Plus, you’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“TheI’m up to somethinglook,” Hunter supplied helpfully. The gigantic man moved to wrap an arm around Brenna’s shoulders. “It’s the same one you had right before you talked me into that drinking contest.”
I winced at the memory. Neither of us had won that one. “Okay, fine. I might have a question.”
Hunter glanced at the clock and planted a kiss on Brenna’s head. “As much as I’d like to hear this, I’ve got that security detail to get to. See you tonight, baby. Take it easy, Eli. I’ll say hi to Ben for you.”
“Do that,” I said. “And tell him he needs to come around more. And for more than just to trim the hedges.” Our oldest brother worked for Hunter part-time and spent the other half doing landscaping work at the resort.
Hunter clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “Will do, man. Don’t you two get into too much trouble.”
As the door jingled shut behind Hunter, Brenna turned to me. “So what’s your question?”
“Okay, here’s the deal,” I began, leaning in conspiratorially as if sharing a state secret. “I’ve got this… acquaintance? Coworker? Friend?—no way, more like a frenemy if I’m being generous—who’s super uptight and serious. Oh! You know her. The accountant at the resort, Julianne Verne?”
Brenna frowned. “She’s not super uptight. She’s nice. You two are just complete opposites, is all.”
“Yeah, well, I’m teaching her and some friends to dive—long story. It turns out she’s got this hidden nickname that she didn’t want me to know about. It rings a bell, but I can’t place it. But if she doesn’t want me to know about it, that means I must know every detail. I thought it might have to do with books, and you’re our resident bookworm extraordinaire. So here I am!”
She ignored my attempt at flattery. “So what’s the nickname?”
“Jules.”
Brenna just stared at me. “Her last name is Verne?”
I nodded.
“Eli, you’re a complete idiot. You know that, right? You seriously don’t know who Jules Verne was?”
I scowled and threw my hands up. “I’m a dive instructor, not a librarian. Soixnaythe insults, okay?”
She finally burst into laughter and grabbed my arm, dragging me toward a section under a sign that read Science Fiction Classics. “Jules Verne was one of the most important novelists of the nineteenth century. He wrote incredibly imaginative stories that changed literature forever. He practically invented science fiction.” She plucked out a hardcover and placed it in my hands. The title wasJourney to the Center of the Earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “She has this in her bookshelf inside her office.”
“Gee. I wonder why? And why do you care, anyway?”
My mind was racing with the possibilities. I wasn’t sure why the nickname was important to Jules—I was never referring to her as Julianne again—but I knew this was a gold mine as a way to needle her.
“Earth to Eli.” Brenna’s voice cut through my plotting. “I asked why you care so much about it.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “No reason. Just… wanted to know.”
“Uh-huh,” Brenna said, clearly not buying it.
I felt a flicker of something in my chest. Annoyance? Excitement? I pushed it aside. “Please. I’m just looking for new ways to get under her skin.”
Brenna’s eyes danced with mischief. “Sure, big brother. Keep telling yourself that.”
