Chapter 21
twenty-one
RUBY
I’ve just finished setting up for Wi-ook club, and I smile because I have a surprise for the club this month. An author I absolutely love, Nicole Sanchez—no relation to our current mayor—sent us all copies of the first book in her Love in the Big Apple series. She also sent me a box of books for the store too, hence why I made her this month’s featured author. Each month, I feature a new author. Last month was Cassie Laelyn and next month, I’m hoping to feature Rebecca Barber. If things work out, she’s going to come visit and attend Wi-ook club in person, and that’s amazing because she’s from Australia and it’s like eleventy billion miles away from Evergreen Lake.
The bell above the door chimes and when I walk into the main room, I smile when I see Maddox standing there. “You came,” I utter.
“I said I would. I wasn’t sure what time it started but I took a guess that it’d be six.”
“Close, it starts at six thirty.”
“Ohh, well, I’ll come back then.”
He turns to leave and I call out, “Don’t go.”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “You sure?” My head nods on its own accord. “Okay,” he agrees. Spinning around, he walks into the store and over to me. Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss on my cheek. “Hi,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I murmur back.
Standing here, we stare into each other’s eyes. I’m accosted with a memory of staring intently into his, except in our memory, we’re both naked in his bed, our legs entwined and my breasts pushed into his chest. The moment is broken when a car’s headlights flash through the front windows of the store.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure.”
Walking away from him, he follows and when we step into the other room, he whistles appreciatively. “Wow, this is great.” He walks farther into the space, and I watch as he takes it all in. Along the bar is an assortment of red and white wine, a jug of non-alcoholic Christmas punch, and platters of appetizers, both savory and sweet.
Since this is the last Wi-ook meeting of the year, I went all out. Normally it’s just wine and cheese, but tonight we have all the trimmings—deli meats, fresh fruit, several different cheese varieties, crackers, nuts, and sweets, so many delicious sweets.
“It’s not normally this flashy, but it’s Christmas so I thought, why not?”
He joins me by the bar, and I hand him his glass of red. Our fingers brush and I feel a spark. It frightens me and I step back, tripping over the box of books for everyone. Before I end up on my ass, Maddox has his arms around me and he saves me from my imminent death, well, from falling over.
“I’ve got you,” he purrs, well it sounds like he purrs and, once again, his hands rest on my hips and mine are on his chest. We stand here, precariously close. Our breaths mingle together as he holds me in his arms, the moment is interrupted when a throat clears .
Peering around Maddox, I see Joel standing there. “Joel!” his name squeaks out and I pull away from Maddox and walk toward Joel. “W-w-w-what are you doing here?” I stutter, my heart racing, but this time it’s racing from guilt. Not that I have anything to be guilty about. Maddox just saved me from falling, nothing more.
“It’s book and wine night,” he says, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I thought I’d come.”
“B-b-but you d-d-don’t r-r-r-read?” My nerves are causing my words to come out all wrong. My palms are sweating and there’s a heat running up my neck.
“I know I don’t, but you were so excited for tonight and I can see why.”
“It’s not like that, Joel,” I defend. Reaching out, I rest my hand on his forearm.
“It looks like Nicole came through,” he voices and it takes a few moments for my brain to catch up. He’s referring to the books, not what he walked in on … not that anything was going on. “The books you were so excited for arrived in time.” He nods to the table with the books from Nicole and then he picks one up and scans the front and back before popping it back down.
“Ohhh,” I utter. “Yeah, they came in late today, so it’s been a mad rush to get everything ready for tonight.” Joel nods but his gaze keeps flicking to Maddox hovering behind me. The atmosphere between the three of us is awkward, and I know Joel is thinking the worst. I’m just about to explain what he walked in on but before I can say anything else, the bell chimes.
Chatter filters through the air as the rest of the club start to arrive. I’m pulled away from Joel when one of the group, Mrs. Winters, starts asking me questions about her new favorite trope, why choose romance. She’s talking about how amazing it would be to be ravished by three or more men at one time .
From behind us, Joel scoffs in disgust when she says, “Any hole is a goal.”
Mrs. Winters’s head snaps in his direction and she glares at Joel. “Do you have a problem with a woman liking erotica?” She’s not one to hold back her thoughts, especially when it comes to her reading taste.
“It’s not appropriate for a woman of your age to be reading stuff like that.”
“And what’s wrong with a sixty-nine”—she chuckles at the number—“year-old woman liking to read about a woman being ravished?”
“It’s not appropriate,” he reiterates.
She stares him down and before I can jump in, she places her hands on her hips and glares at Joel. “Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one and in this instance, your opinion is wrong. Now, if you excuse me, I need to not be near a small-minded man.”
She turns and walks away from us, muttering to herself about uneducated people and who cares if she likes reading smut.
“That was rude,” I whisper-hiss to Joel.
“I know she was,” he snaps.
“I was referring to you.”
“I was rude?” he growls. “She called me an asshole.”
“Well, she wasn’t wrong. Just because you don’t like what she likes, doesn’t make what she likes wrong.”
“Don't tell me you read that drivel?”
“Yes, Joel, I do read it—and, newsflash—I love it just as much as Mrs. Winters. Ninety percent of the books in here are filled with schmexy ravishing scenes.”
His mouth drops open in shock. “What has gotten into you?”
“What?” I ask, confused .
“You were never like this when we started dating.”
“Joel, I was an English Lit major. I love love.”
“That’s not love, that’s … wrong.”
“That’s your opinion, Joel. We don’t judge you for reading spy thrillers, why judge us for reading romance?”
“Smut is not romance.”
“Yes, it is,” I shout and all other conversations in the store comes to a halt. Without looking over my shoulder, I can tell everyone is gazing at us. No doubt this fight will be all over town tomorrow, but I’m too angry to care right now. Joel is being a judgmental dick right now, and I don’t want him here, ruining the fun atmosphere that is Wi-ook Club. Stepping closer to him, I lower my voice. “I think it might be best if you leave. You clearly have a different view from everyone here when it comes to books, and I don’t want tonight to be awkward.”
“I came to support you, but I can see you don’t want my support.”
“Support, yes. Judgement, no,” I snap.
Silently we stare at one another, my words hang in the air. His head starts to bob up and down and then without saying anything, he turns on his heel and walks out of the store, slamming the door behind him.
Covering my mouth with my hand, I swallow back the sob wanting to break free.
A hand touches my shoulder and instantly I feel relief. Turning my head, I look into the concerned eyes of Maddox. “You okay, Reindeer?”
Swallowing, I nod and smile at him. Taking a deep breath, I plaster on a fake smile and with my head held high, walk to the front of the room.
“Let’s get started.”