Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Sabrina
I delete the email and sigh. Another rejection. There’s no longer a question if I should search for places to live outside of Mittenville because I’m officially out of options here. I shut my laptop, leaving it on the bed, and then force myself to get ready for the day.
I’m not going to think about our living situation right now. Today’s the day of the tour, and that’s what I want to focus on. I’m probably more excited than I should be since it isn’t my home or barn. Even though at times Booker has made me feel that way.
Reba told me if Grandpa is up for it, she might bring him later. I quickly get ready before kissing Grandpa’s cheek, and I’m out the front door.
“Holy cheese balls,” I squeak when I run right into a familiar broad chest. Booker's rich earthy scent surrounds me as he catches me by the shoulders. Thankfully he prevents me from bouncing off his hard body and landing on my ass. “You’re here." My heart flutters at seeing him. I thought with time that kind of thing passed, but it’s only getting stronger.
"I'm here." Booker leans down and places a kiss right on my lips. It's so casual, like he's my boyfriend and he does this all the time. I'm honestly not sure what he is or what will come between the two of us after today. Heck, I might not be living in this town much longer. "I thought I'd drive you over."
"But what about my car?" I motion toward it. I'll need to get back home when the day is over.
"You let me worry about that, little star."
“All right,” I agree, trusting him. Every time he tells me he’s got it handled, he does. It’s nice to have that with someone. He’s always going out of his way for me.
“Come on.” He takes my hand, leading me to his truck. “Did you eat this morning?”
“No, I wanted to get there early and help set up. I want everything to be perfect.”
“It will be perfect.” Booker kisses the tip of my nose before putting me in his truck and buckling me up.
This is not the Booker everyone sees around town. Sure, he’s quick to donate and has done a lot of good for Mittenville, but he’s always been stoic. I couldn’t picture him to be the type that would kiss someone on the nose or come up with a cute nickname.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he turns onto the main strip in town.
“To get breakfast. George and Joy have taken over the kitchen.”
“But the diner is closed.” George went ahead and shut it down for the day. Booker paid him more than enough to lose business for a day, heck maybe a whole week. Besides, all of the town is either in the tour or a part of it.
“There are other places to eat.”
“Right.” I nervously play with the edge of my sweater. I’m not one to visit other places in Mittenville. I either go to the diner or the library.
Booker pulls up in front of the coffee shop, and I glance over to the hardware store beside it. Parson’s name is in white, shiny letters.
“Stay put,” he orders before slipping out of the truck. I exhale, relieved that I don’t have to go in with him so I should be safe from running into Parson.
My relief is short-lived as I watch Booker round the front of the truck and open my door for me. I take his hand so he can help me down, and when I’m beside him, he wraps his arm around my shoulder. While he guides me inside, I can feel everyone's eyes on us.
He leads us up to the front counter and looks at the menu. “Hot chocolate, babe?” Booker asks, knowing that I'm not a fan of coffee.
“Sure,” I reply, and Booker orders for us.
We've been learning a lot about each other through the week. I’ve spent my days planning for the tour and following him around his ranch while he asks me questions about myself. I’ve loved every second of it except the part of the day when I leave. It's going to suck going back to the diner next week.
“Here is good." Booker pulls out a chair at the table in front of the large window. Anyone passing by will see us.
“Everyone is staring at us,” I whisper.
“You think I give a shit?” he asks, and I snort a laugh.
“No,” I admit. He absolutely does not care, and I wish I felt that way too. “People are just going to gossip, that's all.” I don't want him getting crap because of me.
“Gossip about what? That I took my woman to get breakfast?”
“Your woman?” My insides melt.
I want to be his. Heck, I want to be more than that, but I'm not getting ahead of myself. If I let my mind get away from me, it could lead to major heartbreak. I'm not sure I can take much more. Mittenville's already left it pretty black and blue.
“Yeah, my woman,” he confirms, and I smile at him. Booker leans down and kisses me, and for a moment, I forget about everyone else. He has the kind of power that makes the rest of the world disappear. “Besides, it's not gossip if it’s true.”
“Here’s your order.” Mrs. Hazelwood places our drinks and muffins on the table for us.
“Thanks,” I say. Mrs. Hazelwood nods but focuses on Booker. She doesn't even spare me a look.
“Do you need anything else, Booker?” She gives him a warm, friendly smile.
“Mr. Pine,” he corrects her, his tone and expression far from friendly. “I’m good, but you should ask my woman if she needs anything else. She’s the only reason I’m here.” Mrs. Hazelwood's lips purse.
“Can I get you anything else, Sabrina?” she asks.
“No, I'm good,” I respond, and the tension is thick. Is Booker making a claim on me in front of the entire town? We’ve only been doing...whatever it is you might call this...for a week. Is that too soon, or could I be missing something?
“Now that wasn't so fucking hard, was it?” Booker mutters. “Eat up, little star.” He winks at me, not bothering to acknowledge Mrs. Hazelwood, and it effectively dismisses her.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, taking a bite of the muffin.
“I’m far from done.” He takes a sip of his coffee, and I wonder what he means by that.
I’m almost done with my muffin when I see Parson walk past the window. A moment later, the bell for the door rings. Surely he won’t say anything to me when I’m with Booker. He always tries to hide the crap he does to me. My heart sinks when out of the corner of my eye I see him walking over to our table.
“Ah, Sabrina.” There is a hitch to his voice, and I slowly look up at him.
“Oh my god,” I gasp when I see his face. One eye is swollen, and his lip is busted.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”
“Okay,” I manage to say. I hadn’t told Booker who it was that smacked my ass.
“And?” Booker prompts. It’s clear he figured it out on his own and has made sure Parson got his own smack.
“I was an asshole. I promise to never bother you again.”
All I can do is nod because I’m in total shock.
“Go on now,” Booker orders, and Parson scurries out of the coffee shop like his ass is on fire. After that, Booker stands and holds out his hand. “Think we’re done here.”
When I take his hand, I can finally admit to myself that I’m head over heels in love with Booker Pine.