Chapter Four Callum #2
Smelling curry, I see the brown bag peeking out of her large navy-blue canvas tote on the ground next to her.
She must have stopped at Amma's, a half mile down the road.
She's wearing black leggings and white canvas shoes.
The hand scratching Plot's little head is small, pale, and tipped with light pink nail polish.
I really start feeling like a creep, so I softly clear my throat.
"Hey," I say, keeping my voice low so I don’t startle her.
I also try to hunch over a bit, not wanting to loom over her.
At the sound of my voice, she glances over her shoulder.
I'm almost knocked on my ass as I get a good look at her face.
Now I know I have not seen her before, because that's a face I would have remembered.
Pretty. Really pretty.
"Oh!" she gasps softly, standing up quickly. Plot actually glares at me for catching her attention and causing her to stop petting him. She gives me a small smile, and I feel my heart stutter and then kick hard at the sight. "Hi."
"Hey. Welcome in, can I help you find anything?" I say, clenching my fist and trying to calm my body’s reaction to this beautiful woman. Act like you’ve seen a woman before, Callum.
She looks a little sheepish. "I'm so sorry, I know you guys are closing soon, I just got distracted. He's so cute," she says as she smiles down at the little monster now rubbing himself against her leggings, getting gray hair all over the black fabric.
"Huh... you must have a magic touch," I tell her, genuinely surprised at the gremlin's behavior. "Plot can be... a little mean to most."
"Probably sensed the day I've had and is having mercy on me," she mutters, picking the canvas tote off the ground and gently pulling it over her shoulder, careful of the food inside.
My ears perk up at her statement, but I file it away for now.
"Were you looking for something specific?"
She nods, looking a little unsure. "Do you have—" She tilts her head side to side, trying to find her words. I stand there patiently watching her think—it's not exactly a burden to look at her. She's... quite beautiful. "—do you have a book with a... really happy ending?"
I smile immediately, knowing I can give her exactly what she needs.
I've always loved reading, ever since I was a kid.
My mom would bring me to the library and just let me go crazy, reading anything I could get my hands on and borrowing as many books as possible.
I felt true escape and peace sitting up in my treehouse and reading for hours and hours.
Anything and everything, I wanted to read about it.
When I turned twelve and started noticing girls, that’s when I started reading romance.
I was a pretty shy kid, uneasy and self-conscious in my skin and my size—a little chubby if we're being honest. Kids were cruel and made fun of me, so books became a way to escape, where I could pretend to be the handsome hero in my stories, brave and not afraid of being called names while changing for gym.
Things changed once I hit fourteen. I hit a growth spurt and shot up to 6'2", looking more and more like my tall, broad dad.
Then, when I started working with him on job sites, assisting him, I shed my baby weight and finally stopped growing at 6 '4 ".
Girls started noticing me then, and the guys in my grade stopped calling me names, not really wanting to bully the kid who was a whole head taller than them.
Books are still my escape, but after my dad died, anything with too much angst or a depressing ending hurt too much, so I started looking for books with a happily-ever-after only.
Enter: Tonya De Luca, a sarcastic and abrasive tattoo artist in our town.
We met at a local grief support group she started attending after she lost her wife in a car accident.
We related to each other since she's an avid reader too, and I started talking about escaping through books after my dad died—but only books with happy endings—and she joked that we should start a book club.
So we did, and the Ever After Always Book Club was born. Now we're up to seven members, a nice little family we've formed.
My brain must be working at half speed, though, because the answer that I give her is, "Yeah, I can definitely do happy endings."
The words are out, and only then do I actually hear what I just said. Happy endings. Oh no. Her eyebrows rise, and her mouth twists as if she's trying not to laugh. She fails as a small giggle breaks through, and my ears go hot.
"Uh—books! Books with happy endings, guaranteed happy-ever-after books. Only. Not—the... uh—massage-parlor kind—"
I can't talk anymore because I'm too busy gazing at the sight in front of me. She's laughing—her whole face lit up. She smiles with her whole face, eyes crinkling in the corners, eyes almost closed, mouth wide, showing off a perfect smile, and—damn—if joy doesn't look beautiful on her.
I'm full-on smiling now, my embarrassment snuffed out because I made her laugh.
"Thank you," she says, lifting up the sleeves of her sweater to wipe her wet eyes. She beams up at me, the sight of it catching my breath for a second. I can feel my mom's eyes on us, watching and observing, but I can't look away from this woman in front of me.
"You’re welcome? I’m happy to help.”
"No, I'm serious. Thank you. I just... today has quite literally been one of the worst days of my life—probably the worst if I'm being honest—and you just made me forget about it for a second,” she takes a deep breath and shakes her head, wiping her eyes once more.
"Oh," I frown, not liking the sound of that. Worst day of her life? What the hell could have happened?
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad I could make you feel a little better."
"You did, you really did," she murmurs softly, holding the bag on her shoulder as she reaches out her hand. "I'm Sophie."
Sophie. I let it settle in my brain, in my chest. Pretty name, pretty girl.
"Nice to meet you, Sophie. I'm Callum Rhodes," I take her hand in mine—it's so soft and a little cold—and without thought, I wrap my other around it to warm it up.
Her eyes meet mine and hold, and that's when I notice their color.
A gorgeous combination of blue and green, big and framed by dark lashes.
They widen a bit at my name, and her eyebrows raise.
"Rhodes? As in... ?" She trails off, pointing to the wooden sign on the wall above the register—also a William Rhodes project.
"Rivers & Rhodes. I own this store with my mom, Maeve," I nod to the woman behind me, who is discreetly (blatantly staring) watching our interaction. Sophie follows my nod and gives a small wave, and I know for a fact my mom is smiling and waving back.
Her eyes trail all over the store again—the warm woods and labeled bookshelves, plants galore, gauzy curtains, vintage lamps, and Persian-style rugs.
I can admit, my mom really knows how to make a place beautiful and cozy.
"I'm honestly surprised I've never been here before. Wow... it's really beautiful, Callum."
Her saying my name does funny things to my chest, and I have to clear my throat before I answer.
"Thank you," I say sincerely, puffing up a little in pride. She meets my eyes again and smiles before glancing down at our still-joined hands—her soft one in both of mine. Reluctantly, I release it, and she fidgets a bit, shifting the bag higher on her shoulder.
"So... happy endings?"
"Happy endings," she confirms with sparkling eyes, and follows me as I wander over to our Happy Ever After section, made specifically for the club. There's a decent amount of books to choose from, and I see her eyes light up at the bright colored covers.
"What's your flavor?"
She hums, eyes trailing over the titles. "Not too much angst. Or—" Her mouth twists, considering. "Or maybe angst, but with a good payoff."
"Got it," I grab a paperback and a hardcover off the shelves, holding up the paperback.
"This one's a rugged farmer meets a soft librarian. Grumpy/sunshine with a found family and a little mystery." She smiles at the cover—dark-haired man glaring down at the sweet, bespectacled redhead smiling up at him.
I hold up the hardcover. "This one's very Hallmark—a free-spirited cat-lady baker meets a rigid corporate suit. There's a cat on every chapter header. Legally, I'm required to recommend it."
I pull a face and nod toward Plot, who is sitting at the register, grooming his paws in a threatening way. Sophie laughs and takes both from my outstretched hands.
"Sold," she smiles, cradling the small stack of books in her hands as if they're precious. I like that. Maybe she’d like the book club. "Thank you."
I guide her to the register, where Plot is still sitting like a little sentinel, ringing up the books. The cat perks up when she walks over and meows at her. She smiles and reaches out her hand, which he promptly shoves his head into.
"You should feel special," I shake my head, like I’m witnessing magic. "Plot hates everyone except my mom. He only tolerates me, and I'm the one who saved him."
"I love his name," she murmurs, scratching under his little chin as he purrs as loud as a lawnmower.
"All credit goes to my mom."
She pulls her wallet out, and I feel my heart racing a bit.
Come on, Callum, do it before you get distracted by how pretty she is again.
"Uh, Sophie?" She looks up at me, and I have to avert my eyes like I'm sixteen again and not an almost thirty-two-year-old business owner. Going for unbothered and casual, I scan the books and shrug.
"We have a little after-hours book club. We meet on Mondays at eight, once the shop closes. Only one rule: guaranteed happy ending. No one's allowed to get their heart broken on a Monday."
"Really?" Her eyes brighten for a second, before they shutter a bit, like a cloud suddenly blocking the sun.
Damn, did I come on too strong?
"No pressure or anything, but it's... fun, and nice to hang out and talk about the books. Not super crowded, either, it's mostly just the seven of us. You would be more than welcome to join, if you'd like."
"I, uh..." she clears her throat and hands me a twenty. "I'm about to be really... busy for the foreseeable future."
Disappointment blooms in my chest, and I try to stamp it down, not having any right.
"But I will definitely consider the book club," she adds, her voice carrying a slight lilt, a little thread of hope.
"Again, no pressure. Just wanted to extend the invite to a fellow happy ending lover," I hand her the change, and she snorts, covering her mouth to smother her laughter. The words register, but again the embarrassment doesn't linger. "I really need to watch my words."
"No," she says through her giggles, taking the change from my hand and dropping it into the can marked Plot's Treat Fund. "No, it's me and my dirty mind."
"And we are a good, clean family establishment, Sophie," I say, shaking my head sternly, and she looks mock-scandalized before we both smile at each other. I feel something click in my chest.
Beautiful.
Not just her appearance—though that is clear as day—but her humor, her kindness, and her warmth are pulling me in like I'm caught in her orbit.
And I don't want to stop it.