Page 165 of Worth the Trip

“I got my woman for the day. I intend to use my time well.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s romance, Hershey. Stop criminalizing it.”

I walked around and opened her door. She put her hand in mine, but I didn’t immediately help her down.

Her brows lifted. “Was there another step in the exit procedure?”

“I like seeing you happy.” The humor in her face softened. “You looked at that sign like the building called your name.”

“Bookstores make me happy.”

“I know.”

“How?”

“You touched the window at that bookstore in Willow Run before you walked inside.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You remember that?”

“I remember you.”

That was enough.

No explanation needed.

Nolani rose onto her toes and kissed me.

Soft.

Brief.

Worth remembering.

“You ready?” I asked.

“For books? Always.”

“For me?”

“That question was unrelated.”

“I conduct comprehensive assessments.”

“You just closed the case.”

“Appeals remain available.”

Nolani slid her fingers through mine. “Come on, baby.”

There went that word again.

I shut the door and followed her toward the entrance with no intention of pretending humility belonged in this situation.

A bell chimed when we stepped inside. Sable & Spine still smelled the way I remembered it: paper, coffee, old wood, and the vanilla candle Miss Roslyn burned behind the counter year-round. Black authors filled the walls between rolling ladders and handwritten staff cards.

Nolani loosened her hand from mine and headed toward a display.