6. Lizzy
Chapter 6
Lizzy
“ A nother beautiful day to spend reading,” I tell Mr. Darcy as I flip open the smutty alien book on the checkout counter.
After Noah’s phone call yesterday, he had to leave to help his brother with something on the family farm. He did text me before bed last night, wishing me a good night.
I didn’t respond to the message that made me smile. I don’t want to encourage him even if he makes my heart flutter. It’s better to keep my distance than wish for something that’s never going to last.
I turn to the chapter I’ve been reading. Wednesdays are always slow days here at the bookstore.
The bell above the door jingles and my heart skips a beat. I lift my head, hoping for one crazy moment that it’s Noah.
But it’s Walt instead. He’s whistling as he comes in. Today is usually his day off. “I’m working the counter today. I need you to help my best customer.”
“I didn’t know you had a best customer,” I answer. There are romance book clubs in Courage County, and they buy a lot of books. But it’s more of a group purchase, and Walt gives them a great discount.
“As of last night, he is my best customer. He placed an order worth thousands of dollars in profit. We’ll be set through winter.”
I grin at my grandfather. “That’s great news. Whatever you need me to do, just let me know.”
The bell above the door jingles again and in walks Noah.
Walt beams. “There he is!”
I open and close my mouth in shock. I shouldn’t be surprised. Noah is always finding a way to get close to me.
“Lizzy.” He nods to me then eyes my cat. “Mr. Darcy.”
Mr. Darcy meows and moves to rub up against his jean-clad legs. I think Noah has won him over. The hot cowboy is making friends with my cat.
“You can’t be serious!” I tell my grandfather.
Walt shrugs. He looks so pleased by this order.
Noah’s smile broadens. “I really need someone with expertise. See, I’m building a library in my home. A personal library.”
“Then fill it with books you love. Next customer.” I turn away from him.
He steps in front of me, so I bump into his chest. I put my hands out, resting them on his firm pecs. Nope, I do not need to be thinking about what the cowboy might have going on underneath his t-shirt.
Heat flares in his gaze the moment I touch his shirt. “The thing about it is I could use some advice. You know how to best organize it and what to fill it with. One bookworm to another.”
I am a little bit curious about what Noah’s personal library would look like and the thought of getting to help him build one sounds amazing. “I’m sure you know what you enjoy reading.”
“Well, maybe I want new books…lots of new books. As many as can fit on my bookshelves.” He turns away from me and frantically begins grabbing stacks of books, holding a dozen or more books in his arms.
“Those are parenting books,” I point out.
“See how helpless I am?” He somehow does this pouty thing with his eyes, making me think of Mr. Darcy when I open a can of tuna near him.
“This is not a date,” I insist.
He manages to juggle the books into one arm and makes a halo above his hat. “My intentions are pure.”
Walt and I both snort at the same time. Mr. Darcy meows in agreement with us.
“Tough crowd,” Noah mutters.
“Let me grab my things from the backroom,” I tell him before I disappear into the bathroom. I double-check my appearance. I’ve started doing that more since I’ve met Noah. I just get so nervous around him. I want to look perfect every time he sees me.
When I’m done, I gather my things and meet Noah outside in the parking lot. I left Mr. Darcy and Walt to look after each other.
Noah opens the passenger door for me and gives me a grin that makes my stomach swoop. I wonder if he knows how irresistible I find him, how hard I have to fight not to kiss him every time I see him.
He’s beautiful. What would he say if he saw me, really saw me without my wig, lashes, and eyebrows? Would he suddenly lose interest in me? Those are questions I don’t want to know the answer to. Maybe it’s wrong but I’ll enjoy his attention for now. He’ll grow bored of me soon enough and I’ll have a few pleasant memories of a pretty cowboy. The thought makes my chest ache.
“Where did you go?” Noah’s voice interrupts my thoughts after he’s driven for twenty minutes in silence. “I’m supposed to be the one that’s scowling, remember?”
I fight a smile, realizing just how often I want to smile when I’m around this man. He makes me happy. “Just worrying about Walt.”
“He wouldn’t want you to,” he answers.
It’s another reminder that I’m not really family. I’m just an imposter playing the role of granddaughter for as long as Walt will take pity on me. I twist the bracelet on my wrist to ground myself in the present. “How long have you known Walt?”
“Over half my life, I reckon. Met him when I was just a scrawny kid, angry at the whole world for the hand I’d been dealt.”
“The hand?” I question, unable to resist prying.
He blows out a slow breath. “Foster kid. I’m only a Maple in name.”
I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist touching him. His hand is resting on the center console, and I put mine over his. “I know what it’s like to be a foster kid.”
We don’t say anything for the rest of the drive, and I don’t move my hand. I’m just being friendly. Friends support each other. This is totally fine.
Noah stops his truck in front of a one-story brick home with a wraparound porch. There are rose bushes in front of the house and a sidewalk that’s dotted with solar lights. It’s beautiful, like a dollhouse I saw once as a kid.
“My brothers helped me build it,” Noah explains. “We’ve all built homes on the farm. Most of us live within a couple of miles of Mom. Makes things easier with the multiple sclerosis for us to be nearby.”
Now that I think about it, I’ve seen Mrs. Maple around town riding in her motorized wheelchair. She always stops and chats with everyone. I wonder what she’d say if she saw me with Noah. Would she be embarrassed for her son? Would she wonder what he sees in me?
“Your home is beautiful,” I manage around the lump in my throat.
He preens under the compliment. “Come see the inside.”
He gives me a tour of his home, highlighting the features like the cherry oak floorboards and the gas stove. He shows off the screened-in porch that overlooks an acre of forest. Books are piled over every surface. Just like they were in the kitchen, living room, and dining room. He must easily have several hundred books on various subjects. “It’s a great place to relax after a long day. Plenty of space to clear for a big backyard. I reckon a swing set would look real nice in the corner over there.”
I chuckle. “You’re not a real estate agent. You don’t have to sell me the place. I’m already in love with it.” As soon as I say the words, my face goes red. But I think it’s fine because his chest puffs out.
“Let me show you the library,” he says as he leads me down the hall to a room with floor-to-ceiling windows that let natural light illuminate the space. Directly across from the windows are floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
He lets out a soft sigh. It’s a happy sound. “This is my favorite room in the house.”
I step inside and hold my arms wide, absorbing the warmth. For some people, they feel a sense of serenity when they step into a church. For me, it’s always been libraries and bookstores.
Spying the cat tree in the corner of the room, I frown. I don’t remember seeing a litter box or any evidence of a cat since I’ve stepped into the house. “You don’t have a cat.”
“Who knows?” He gives me a grin. “Mr. Darcy might want to visit one day.”
I knew he was trying to get on my cat’s good side, but I don’t comment on that. Mr. Darcy and I will be having a conversation about loyalty later. For now, I step around one of the piles of boxes. There are so many cardboard boxes in his library. “More books, I take it.”
He gives me a rueful smile. “You’d be right. The library was the last room to complete. I needed it to be perfect. Now that it is…”
I survey the room with my hands on my hips. “We should start with unpacking the boxes and gathering all of the books from the rest of the house. Once we see what you have, we can start making other decisions like what furniture to add to the room.”
He nods and together, we collect the books from the various rooms. He has volumes on astronomy, deep space exploration, physics, and chemistry.
“Have you read all of these?” I ask as I place one stack on a low bookshelf.
“I’m not stupid,” he says the words so quietly that I almost miss them. But when I register what he said, I turn to him.
“They said I was stupid. That’s—that’s why I deserved it.” He nods to the bookcases, a grown man trying to reassure himself that he’s no longer a helpless kid. “I’m not stupid.”
I’ve been trying so hard to hold my feelings for this cowboy at bay. Trying to avoid being hurt but the look on his face has my resolve crumbling.
I set the books down and step forward until I’m melting against him, my arms going around his midsection. “You didn’t deserve it.”
For a split second, I think I did the wrong thing but then he’s wrapping his arms around me.
I press my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
We stand hugging each other for a long moment until finally I disentangle myself.
“Thanks,” his voice is gruff when he says the word. He goes to ruffle my hair, and I duck.
Fury crosses his features. “Who hurt you?”
I realize what he’s thinking and shake my head. “My scalp is sensitive.” Before I can second guess myself, I blurt out, “I have alopecia.”
He studies me for a long moment before he finally says, “I don’t know what that is.”
I feel sick to my stomach, the same way I did in fourth grade when the other girls made fun of me after the teacher insisted I couldn’t wear a hat indoors. “It’s an autoimmune disease that causes hair loss. Basically, I started losing my hair as a kid and now I barely have any at all. I’m bald.”
I gesture to my head as if he doesn’t know where my wig is located. I fight the urge to crawl under a rock as I explain, “I was always the odd one out. Never quite fit in as the balding kid at school then as the foster kid that could never find a home.” I shrug, trying to tuck away a lifetime of cruel taunts and insults. “It’s hard to be the only one that’s different.”
Finally, I risk a glance at his face. His eyes are filled with compassion, not horror or disgust like I expected.
He cups my cheeks in his big hands and tips my face up. “This doesn’t change anything for me. I like you, Lizzy. I couldn’t give a damn about your hair or lack of it.”
I swallow hard, my heart skipping a beat. “If it really doesn’t bother you, then I’ll go out with you. But just one date, Noah. I’m not making promises.”
The smile that lights up his face is brighter than the sun. “One date is all I need to make you fall in love with me.”
He doesn’t realize I’m already falling for him. I just hope I don’t regret it when he decides he doesn’t want me.