Chapter Eleven
The whole town smelled like funnel cakes and barbecue.
Mayfest flooded down Main Street in a bright, noisy river.
Kids darted in and out of clusters of adults catching up since the last time they ran into each other.
Music blared from a speaker near the courthouse steps.
And the breeze carried the scent of pork on the grill at the nearby barbecue booth mixed with the sweet burn of kettle corn to Gabe’s nose.
He stood in front of Felicity’s shop, soaking in the booths and tables stretching down the sidewalk. It was crowded—more crowded than he normally liked. If the interstate exit were open, it would be shoulder-to-shoulder out there.
As it was, the turnout wasn’t bad. Locals wandered past, laughing and talking, faces lifted to the weak spring sun. Some of them paused to read the signs on each booth and browse for things they probably didn’t need.
Felicity stood next to him, cheeks pink from the breeze and excitement. Occasionally, she fidgeted with her display, adjusting the books into a neat fan before stepping back to examine it.
The long table they’d set up looked good. Even though she claimed she threw together the booth, it looked like she’d put a lot of thought into it. Hardbacks and paperbacks were lined up in themed stacks, the covers glossy in the sun.
In the center of the table sat a little rotating display of bookmarks that caught the sunlight when the wind stirred them. On the far side, a small tray of round magnets waited, each one printed with a book quote.
Under the table she’d stashed a plastic bucket.
He knew what was in it—he’d helped her load it with dollar store trinkets.
Lollipops with bright wrappers, fidget spinners, tiny keychains shaped like books and animals and soccer balls.
And taped to the edge of the table, a handwritten sign for the kids read: PICK A STRING, WIN A PRIZE—1￠.
Strings dangled from a little cardboard stand, each one leading down to a prize in the bucket. He’d watched her assemble it with so much care, tying each prize so the kids would have that tiny thrill of not knowing what they’d get.
He loved that about her. The way she made, well, everything matter.
He rested a hand on her lower back and leaned closer, catching the tormenting scent of her perfume. “Looks good.”
She blew out a breath and smoothed a wrinkle on the tablecloth. “I hope so. Mayfest is usually a big day for the shop.” She sent a pained look up the street.
“It will be again.”
She gave him a sideways glance as if she wanted to believe him but couldn’t.
A group of kids stopped at the table, palms full of pennies, eyes wide on the strings. Felicity’s smile brightened—a real smile. She walked them through the game. “Pick a string. Any string. No wrong choices here.”
The kids all bounced up and down, chose a colored string and then shrieked when the prizes popped up from under the table. One girl got a purple lollipop and hugged it like a trophy. A boy with rumpled hair spun his new fidget spinner so fast the plastic blurred.
Gabe took a step back, letting Felicity shine. He stayed close enough to be useful—handing her a paper bag or placing a hand over the bookmarks when the wind threatened to send them flying down the street. But mostly he watched Felicity.
She came alive around books, around people who loved them. Even if they only had a penny to spend.
As she chatted with a couple ladies who apparently frequented the weekly crafts and books event with Honor, Gabe scanned the street.
Years of training and instinct ran beneath his skin.
First thing he did was pick out an escape route.
And he kept a sharp eye out for anyone paying too much attention to Felicity.
Nothing pinged his radar. Yet.
The kids ran off, heels kicking as they wove between the crowd and food trucks.
Felicity stepped closer, arm brushing his. “Uh-oh,” she murmured under her breath. “Incoming.”
He followed her line of sight and saw Vera moving their way. Her apron bore the bright logo for her bakery across the front, and she carried a tray.
His jaw flexed. “More bribes.”
Vera bustled over. “Felicity! Your table looks…cozy.”
He heard what she didn’t say.
Small. Floundering.
Felicity pasted on a polite smile. “Hi, Vera. Busy day at your booth?”
“Swamped! Sold out of all the cookies in the first hour.” She eyed the table filled with books. Then shifted her gaze to him, her attention becoming appreciative. “Hello there. Who’s your friend, Felicity? I don’t think we’ve officially met.”
Felicity opened her mouth, but Gabe cut in, forcing his tone to remain even. “Gabe. I’m with Black Heart Security.”
He felt Felicity’s surprise, even though she stood completely still. He hadn’t officially been offered a job on the team. And he hadn’t told Felicity either. But he’d be damned if he’d allow this woman to belittle either of them.
Vera’s smile tightened at the corners. “Ah. Of course.” Her gaze flicked to Felicity. “I suppose that’s…reassuring, with things being so unsettled around here. The break-ins and rumors. You never know who you can trust. It’s good to have someone on the lookout.”
He smiled back, all teeth and no warmth. “Good thing I’m here to figure out who’s responsible.”
Her expression dimmed. Not with guilt exactly, but definitely with irritation.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Well. I just wanted to be neighborly. I brought a tray for each vendor.” She angled the tray in her hand toward Felicity. “This is just a sample display. Cinnamon rolls. You should stop by and pick up your box later. Assuming you’re not…too busy.”
Gabe maintained his wolfish grin. “If we need sugar with a side of gossip and rumors, we know where to find you.”
Vera’s eyes widened, and he saw her gulp as she swung away from the table.
He and Felicity watched her scurry away, swallowed by the crowd.
Felicity issued a giggle. “You scared her off.”
“Good. She’s circling like a vulture.”
“You really think she’s that bad?”
“I think she’s way too interested in your storefront and a little too quick to poke your weak spots.” He studied her beautiful face.
Her eyes warmed. “You’re very protective. You know that?”
He took a step closer. “I’m aware.”
She let out a low, shaky breath as if her body reacted to him being protective as much as it did when he pinned her to the wall and went down on her.
His cock began to stir behind his fly.
The sounds of the festival swelled around them with the notes of a band in the park starting up a cover of an old rock song.
Gabe watched Felicity straighten the bookmarks that didn’t need it.
“How’d you end up in Willowbrook? You didn’t grow up here.”
She cocked her head, contemplating his question. “I traveled through here once and was charmed. When it came time to select a location for my shop, it was the first place that came to mind.”
“What made you want to open your own shop? Instead of working in one or in a library?”
“I always loved books.” She leaned a hip against the table, facing him, at ease. “I dabbled in writing for a while.” A faint blush touched her cheeks. “It didn’t stick. But my love for the world around books did.”
He thought of the words she’d written in that note. Simple…yet they’d reached into his ribs and tugged at his heartstrings the way those kids pulled the strings on the table.
“I love the idea of writing. It just wasn’t for me.” She waved a hand at the table. “This is how I can contribute to the world of publishing. Putting other people’s words into the hands of readers. Connecting people with stories that matter to them.”
He nodded slowly, chest tight. It made perfect sense.
Her voice dipped. “Now I worry I can’t save the store at all.”
He moved toward her without thinking. “What if that happens? Worst case. Where do you see yourself then?” He swallowed. “Would you leave Willowbrook?”
He didn’t even know if he’d be sticking around. But the thought of her leaving brought a tight ache to his chest.
Her eyes widened. “No. Never. My sister’s here. And the ranch. This…this is home.” She searched his face as if seeking to make him understand. “My shop might not survive. But I love this town.”
He did too. Especially with her in it.
Unable to stop himself, he touched her arm, skimming his fingertips over her bare skin, satisfied when he saw the wake of goose bumps he left with this touch.
“You ever think about taking the shop online? You’re good at curation. People eat that up on the internet.”
She exhaled. “I did consider it. But then I had to let my employees go, and how would I both run the store and ship things?”
He curled his fingers lightly around her elbow. She swayed toward him as if she couldn’t stop this pull between them either. “You’re not alone. You have me now. You want help with shipping? Carrying boxes? Driving to the post office? I can do that and more.”
Her eyes went shiny for a second before she looked away, blinking. “You say that like it’s no big deal.”
“It’s not. Not to me.”
“I thought you were the newest member of the Black Heart Security team.”
His lips quirked. “More like temporary assistant. Nothing official.”
“Still, I’m glad Carson has you to rely on. You’re obviously a natural.”
He wasn’t a man who ran off praise. What ego he’d had was drilled out of him in the military. But her words sent warm sparks through him.
“I mean it, Gabe.”
“I meant what I said too—about helping. I want to be there for you.”
He could see it sinking in, rearranging her beliefs. That someone was willing to step into the gaps and shoulder the burden before she ever had to ask.
She swallowed and then, as if suddenly aware of how close they were getting to raw emotions, she stepped back slightly.
“Okay. That’s enough existential bookshop talk for one festival.
” She glanced at the sky. “What do you say we pack this up and go see the rest of Mayfest? I’ll even let you buy me a funnel cake. ”