29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Betty
“ N ot really a romantic character from literature,” Chloe, my coworker and granddaughter of the owner of the bookstore, teases me for the tenth time as she passes by the outdoor table.
Why we didn’t set up under a tent or a giant beach umbrella still confounds my sweaty brain. It must be ninety degrees, and our famed beach breezes have all but disappeared.
My fingers twist the end of the crimson wig I’m wearing, and I return the giddy smile. “Ginny Weasley shares the love of one of the most recognizable figures in modern literature. I dare you to name anyone on the planet that hasn’t read at least one of the books in the series.” I curtsy, my hands gripping the ends of the ridiculously short catholic schoolgirl pleated miniskirt I decided to wear to provide a bit of relief from the blazing sun on the boardwalk. Having men walking the boardwalk suddenly change direction and walk to our table and purchase a book they have no intention of reading is just a bonus.
Chloe giggles and nods at the nearly empty table. The day was a huge success. “Still not a romance novel.”
I point at her choice. She’s dressed as Claire Randall from the Outlander series. “So, time traveling is accepted, but wizardry is not?” I laugh. “Love can be found anywhere there are two people destined to be together.”
Her gaze travels the length of our two tables, where only half a dozen books remain. “You can pack up in a five. Nice job today. You’re off the rest of the weekend for the festival, right?”
I nod. A month ago, when the work schedules were set, I blocked out the days of the music festival. I hadn’t missed one in over a dozen years. My intent at the time was to stay far away from it, knowing the festival would trigger memories of last summer and what happened after. Now, with Laredo back, my plans may change. I don’t know. It feels nice not knowing what comes next. The excitement, the thrills—I feel alive. “Yeah, I’ll see you at the shop bright and early Monday morning.” I suppress a snicker and recall how much Laredo and I compressed into a few days last time. We probably got less than ten hours’ sleep the entire week. “Ready to get out of this sun?”
She bends down and grabs the wheeled plastic crate to collect the remaining books. “About time. Remind me next year to not wear a petticoat in the middle of the summer.”
I give her back a half smile as I realize I have no plans on working at a bookstore next summer. I have no clue where I will be. As much as I’m enjoying my time at the shop, I see something different for my future. “Duly noted. There has to be someone famous in literature who wore tank tops and shorts.” I don’t realize until the words are out of my mouth that I’ve described the outfit I’ve worn at the Driftwood for so many seasons.
A tug pulls on my heart. I miss it.
“Looks like we have a late arriver.” Chloe’s comment forces me to snap out of my trip down memory lane. “Looks like a book nerd got dressed up and everything. That’s my type. You can head out if you…”
My mouth speaks before my eyes fully take in the magnificence in front of us. “He’s mine. I got this.” The biggest smile I own flips on my face as I take in the man. Laredo, dressed in nerdy shorts, a white linen short-sleeve shirt, a crimson-and-gold tie, and dorky Clark Kent glasses without the lens. He’s gone full-on Harry Potter. He waves a glow stick wand in his left hand, and that’s when I notice what he’s done. He’s wearing a horrible bowl-cut Harry Potter wig. It’s both ridiculous and adorable.
I’m speechless. Thankfully, he is not.
He closes to within a few feet, eyes locked on me, and raises his wand. “Accio!” He shouts Harry’s famous spell. He didn’t just slip on a costume; he’s done his research. He’s chosen a charm spell. A very special one that gives away his intent—a spell used to summon a desired object.
Me.
It’s magic. Him being here. Dressed like this. Casting this spell. My feet glide toward him as if magnetized.
“Oh, mighty wizard. What are you to do with me?” My line is flirty, sexy, and is pure me. It’s like brushing sand off a buried treasure you thought was gone forever. He’s rediscovered me.
My breath goes shallow with the realization. He closes the distance, hand around my waist. His finger slips beneath the bottom of my white shirt, not stopping until he touches skin, a gentle, sensual circular stroke against my lower back, which makes my knees weak.
We’ve moved beyond the awkward initial greetings from days ago, the strained tension in the air between us ancient history. We’re on the same page. The one we were always meant to share.
“This.” One word. He gives me the one word that lets me know we’re going to be alright. Somehow, some way, we’ll figure out this new world order.
Our kiss is not tentative. It’s rocket-to-the-moon fireworks. It’s a been too long, what the hell were we thinking reunion kiss that transports us back in time.
His hand frames my upper back, and he spins me. We’re in the middle of boardwalk, kissing in front of the world. I sense people moving around us, but I don’t care, regardless of what my mother might think. This is who we are, what we’ve always been from day one.
We are broad daylight, center of the boardwalk, this is my girl, he is my man, look at us. He’s dressed as Harry freaking Potter for me. A couples costume to let the world know we’re together. He’s showing me he’s willing to put on a ridiculous costume in ninety-degree heat if only to put a smile on my face. He’s showing me that he cares about something other than music. That he’d rather step away from Ariel and the studio to spend time with me. He’s here, and he’s mine.
I tip up on my toes, our kiss intensifying. We are heated breaths, sweat forming on our scalp, if we don’t get out of here, we’re going to get arrested stage.
Our lips part, but we remain frozen in place, our noses touching. “This,” I repeat his words, “is all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ll ever need. This.”