Chapter Eleven #3
I had to take a leap of faith, as Mom had said. Not the religious kind of faith, but the faith in myself, faith in Winter, and the belief that he felt the same way about me as I did about him.
I opened the door, the bell chiming over my head announcing me as I walked in. Winter was sliding a book onto the shelf at the far wall, and he turned to greet his customer.
But then he saw it was me. His whole face changed from a polite smile to a big grin and he hurried over.
His cheeks were pink, his eyes wide. “Hi,” he said.
“Here, let me take your coat. How was your day? I’ve been on cloud nine since I got your poem this morning, just so you know.
” He hung my coat up on the rack in the storeroom.
“Bram Stoker’s Dracula is one of my all-time favorites, though I think that every time you send me a line.
I think that one’s my favorite, and it is.
Until I get the next one. I probably wouldn’t have thought Dracula to be romantic, but ‘you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.’ I mean I did have to google that one, not gonna lie.
I was amazed I didn’t recognize it immediately, but I think that comes down to your ability to surprise me.
” Then he stopped talking, let out a big sigh, and settled on a smile.
“Sorry. I’m excited to see you, that’s all.
I haven’t seen you since Sunday. That feels like a lifetime ago. How was your day today?”
His words made my insides run hot and tingly. “My day was fine. Much better now though. I wasn’t very useful again at work today. I was clock-watching, as my dad put it, which equates to time-wasting. I was excited to see you too.”
He grinned, his fingers flinching as if he wanted to touch me but was holding himself back. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I have a lot to tell you and some questions to ask,” I said, determined not to back out. “But perhaps we should get work done first because that’s what I’m here for. Is there stock and inventory that needs to be done?”
He laughed and waved his hand at the stockroom. “Always. Just got another delivery this afternoon.”
“I can start on that.”
He watched me for a second, customers in the store forgotten. He seemed to study my face and it made me warm all over. “Thank you. And you can ask me anything at all.”
I gave a nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. The other people in the store were suddenly on my radar. “I’ll just . . .” I stepped past him into the storeroom and opened the first box.
He went about serving the customers, chatting about a romance book, which Winter had clearly loved.
Maybe I should read it.
Romance books weren’t my go-to. I’d read them, of course, but I preferred fantasy or poetry, mood depending.
But romance seemed like something I wanted to read suddenly, immersing myself in emotions and feelings of falling in love. It might not seem so unrealistic to me now. No, not unrealistic.
Perhaps out of reach or unobtainable was more fitting.
I’d read romance with as much firsthand experience as I had reading a fantasy about rival kings and sword fights.
But now . . .
Now I think I understood.
The bell above the door chimed again and I’d assumed it was the customer leaving, but a girl spoke. “Hi, I’ll just put their bag in the storeroom—”
“Thanks, Evie,” Winter said.
Then a girl appeared. She was young and had a patch of blue in her black hair and a nose ring. She came into the storeroom and stopped. “Oh.”
I stood there, holding a book on economics.
“Hi!” she said brightly. “I’m Evie. I was kitty-sitting for Winter.” She proceeded to open her coat and show the baby carrier with some little ginger ears poking out the top.
“Uh, yes,” I managed. “I . . . I’m Deacon. I’m, uh . . .”
“Oh, Deacon the vet. Winter told me about you.” She proceeded to pull off her coat and unclip the baby carrier. “Then you’ll know exactly what to do with these two little sweetlings.”
Before I knew what she was doing, she had the carrier and was strapping it to me.
It was all I could do to hold my arms out and blink while she just steamrolled me, buckled me in, and stood back to admire her handiwork.
“Done.” Then Winter was there, standing in the door watching, smiling, somewhat apologetically.
Evie collected her coat. “I have to go. Grandpa’s waiting. ”
“Thank you, Evie,” Winter said as she headed out.
“Anytime. You know I love them. Nice to meet you, Deacon.” The bell above the door chimed again, and she was gone.
Winter turned back to me, trying not to smile as he came over. “I’m sorry, are you okay? Need me to take it off you?”
I blinked again, took stock of my whole body, trying to determine if I felt violated or not, and decided that I was surprisingly okay. “Uh . . . no, it’s okay . . . I think . . .”
Then one of the kittens popped his head out and meowed, then the second one did the same. The first one used his little claws to climb up toward my face. Bright, I assumed. Wow, they’d really grown.
“Oh, Bright,” Winter said, taking the kitten and giving him a cuddle. “You behave yourself, you little menace.” He held him up to his face, giving him a dozen kisses all over his little head. “Aren’t they just the cutest?”
They really were.
So was the way Winter held him, cared for him.
“Yes, they are.” Merry climbed up out of the carrier then and I was quick to grab him before he decided to free-fall to the ground. “And they’re growing well. Eating well, by the looks of it. Little Merry isn’t so little anymore.”
“No. He had to grow because his brother kept beating on him. It’s like a game of survivor at this point.
” Winter held Bright up and gave him another kiss.
“You keep picking on him, don’t you. So he had to grow up big and strong.
” Winter smiled at me then. “Merry gives it back to him now. They wrestle and tumble most of the day. Evie comes over from the youth center and saves me. Well, saves Bright, because he learned how to climb out of the pen. But sometimes Ro will take them home early. Or, if she’s at home all day, she keeps them and I have a stress-free day. ”
“Kittens are a handful,” I said. “Like puppies.”
“Please tell me you were exaggerating when you said the kitten-rampage stage would last a year.”
I snorted. “At least.”
Winter made a whining sound. “Lord.” Then he sighed and made an effort to compose himself.
“It’s fine. It’s what I signed up for, so no complaining.
” Then his eyes went wide as if he’d just thought of something.
“We should totally take a pic.” He pulled out his phone, and coming to stand next to me, we each held a kitten and he took a selfie.
I didn’t love having my photo taken, but then Winter showed me the picture.
I didn’t look at me. I looked at him, at his smile, at the two kittens, and I was glad he’d taken it. “It’s cute! I’ll send it to you.”
He thumbed the screen, and a second later, my phone beeped.
And now, just like that, I had a photo of him.
Of us.
More customers came in and Winter greeted them, still holding Bright. It was a woman with two young teens who were quite enamored with Bright, and then they realized there was a Merry as well. One of the kids came over to me, patting Merry as I held him.
“Are they for sale?” the young girl asked.
“No, no,” Winter said. “They’re my babies. They’re too young to be at home by themselves so we have a bring-your-kids-to-work day most days.”
The mother didn’t seem to mind because it allowed her to look around the store. Winter held Bright as he helped the kids find the books they were after, and I put Merry back in the baby carrier and entered the stock inventory into the computer.
I enjoyed this kind of work. It was a methodical system and I liked the process steps of completing tasks.
I was surprised at how busy the bookstore was for a Thursday evening.
I knew most of the customers, by face if not name.
They seemed to know me, anyway. Which was fine.
Helpful, even, if it gave people something to say.
Conversations with a variation of “Oh, you’re working here now?
” to which I replied, “No, just helping” almost every time someone saw me.
I didn’t mind though.
It was unsurprising that people recognized me. I’d grown up here, worked here, we had the veterinary clinic. And people were mostly nice to me. I liked that.
When Winter closed and locked the door, I was surprised that it was nine o’clock already.
The time had gone so fast.
“Oh wow, that was a long day,” Winter said with a sigh. He pulled the blind down over the door and gave me a smile. “I’m so thankful you were here to help.”
“It was busy,” I allowed. “All the new inventory is done.”
“You are a superstar.” He came over and peered into the baby carrier I was still wearing. “Still asleep,” he whispered.
I rubbed the carrier. “I almost forgot I was wearing it.”
Winter chuckled. “I know, right? I get used to it too.” Then he took out his phone again. “Let me take a photo.”
“Oh.” I was about to protest but he snapped a photo and showed me the screen. “You’re so cute.”
I stared at the photo. Of me wearing the baby carrier, with a bump. “I’m not cute. I look . . . pregnant,” I mumbled. “That’s not good.”
He chuckled. “No, you look like the cutest cat dad ever.”
“A cat dad?”
He nodded, but then his eyes met mine. “I’ll delete it if you’d prefer.”
Ugh. I wasn’t sure . . . He thought it was cute, he thought I was cute, and he’d delete it if I asked him to. I liked that he considered my feelings, so I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. Though I would insist you don’t show it to anyone.”
He grinned. “Absolutely no one will see this but me. But hang on,” he added, thumbing the screen again, and then my phone beeped. “And you have it now too. Look over it later, and if you want me to delete it forever, I will.”
“Thank you.”