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“Okay.” I fall back on my years of customer service. Truthfully, it’s easier to be business-owner Beth than it is to be boyfriend-hunting Beth. “What sort of a reader is your girlfriend?”

I spend fifteen minutes with the customer, whose name turns out to be Steve, and he ends up purchasing the first two books of a romantic-suspense series and preordering the third for his girlfriend.

“I think preordering shows her that I’m looking toward the future, don’t you?” he asks as I’m checking him out at the register.

“Definitely.” I lie through my teeth while mentally chanting the customer is always right.

How did I ever think this man had boyfriend potential?

“Thanks so much for your help.” Steve slides me a business card. “If you or anyone you know needs help buying or selling your home, give me a ring.”

I take the card with no intention of using it. “Thanks for stopping in! Happy Holidays.”

He waves and saunters out, whistling along to Barbra Streisand’s version of “Jingle Bells,” which is currently playing through the hidden speakers in the shop.

Oh, what fun . . . not.

Ivy’s at my side in a freakishly fast hurry. Her eyes land on his business card. “Ah! You got his number? Tell me everything. Is he dreamy?”

I hold up my hand before she says anything sillier. “He’s got a girlfriend, who he’s stringing along. He gave me his card in case I need a realtor. Which I don’t. So no. I won’t be doing any dreaming about Steve.” I open the drawer below the register and shove the card inside. “That was a bust.”

Ivy slumps, but then she straightens. She tosses her arm around my shoulders and turns me to the back office. “Come on. I saved you a white chocolate–cinnamon muffin.”

My mouth starts watering. “Maybe I’ll commit my life to eating baked goods from the Clatter Café. Seems like a better use of my time than trying to navigate the dating scene.”

“We’re not giving up,” Ivy says staunchly.

When she catches me rolling my eyes, she whips her finger up and jabs it into my side.

“Cut it out. That tickles!” I squirm away from her, but she loops her arm through my elbow.

“I mean it, Bethy. This is going to be your Christmas season. I can feel it.”

I have to bite my lip to keep from telling her that it’s actually going to be her Christmas season. I smile on the inside and let her prattle on.

“Who knows,” she says. “Maybe the next person to walk through the door will be your Mr. Right.”

As if on cue, the jingle bells ring overhead again, and the two of us spin around.

Elena McKenzie walks into the bookstore. To be more precise, she crutches her way into the bookstore. My gaze travels from her miserable expression to the crutches to the bulky walking boot on her left foot.

Before I have a chance to ask her what on earth happened, Gabe steps inside the bookstore behind her.

Chapter 6

Gabe

Walking into Dash Away Books is like entering a winter wonderland. The whole place is dripping with lights, and it smells like a mixture of cinnamon and old books. Basically, it’s a dream.

I’ve been inside Beth’s store before, sure. Countless times as a teenager when Old Man Jankins ran the place and Beth worked with him.

Since she’s taken over, I’ve popped in a couple times, but I’ve always made sure she wasn’t around. I haven’t wanted to face her.

Does that make me a coward? Maybe. I prefer to label myself an expert at self-preservation instead.

I can’t have Beth in the way I want her. Namely, as mine. So it’s better to keep my distance rather than get my heart crushed every time we cross paths. Has that stopped me from writing dozens of songs about her? Nope. But no one can prove anything, and what happens between me and my broken heart stays between me and my broken heart.

Maybe I should write that into a song lyric.