Chapter 10
I’m not sure who I should be more angry with, Mrs. Packer or Noah Carter.
Standing at the front counter of my store, at seven o’clock in the morning, I can see the light on in my office coming from under the door, and there is a large paper cup with the Ski Bum logo that Mrs. Packer has printed on the over-caffeinated beverage—like a warning label.
I pick up the cup. It’s empty. Obviously he’s been here a long time.
This means Mrs. Packer unlocked the door between the businesses and let Noah—basically a stranger—into my store.
I set my bag on the counter and turn to the closed door behind me.
I’m fairly sure I’m going to find Noah in there writing.
Anger begins to boil up in my gut. Just because we had a nice dinner and shared some details of our lives doesn’t mean that he has the right to bust into my place of business and make himself at home without me there.
Gripping the doorknob tightly, I push open the door hard, only it doesn’t stick, because Noah fixed it.
The door slams open and I fall into the office where Julia leaps out of the desk chair and is upright, screaming at the top of her lungs. Her scream has me screaming, and then a moment later I can hear pounding on the door between the cafe and the bookstore.
I can hear Mrs. Packer calling for me, but I’m stuck on the scene in front of me.
“What in the hell are you doing in here? Where’s Noah?” My voice is loud and only getting louder as Mrs. Packer’s knocking on the other door increases. “We’re fine!” I shout across the store and the knocking stops.
“You scared the shit out of me,” Julia says, her hand to her chest and not answering my question.
“Why are you here?” I look around the room for evidence that Noah is here too. And what in the fuck is he doing here this early with Julia? “And where is Noah?” I ask again.
Julia’s brows pinch in confusion. “I’ve been here for hours, studying. And I don’t know where Noah is,” she says, pulling off her headphones and pointing to her stack of books and her laptop. “Besides, you don’t come in this early on Wednesdays. Why are you here?”
“Because,” I shoot out the answer without backing it up, because, well, I don’t know why I’m here so early except that if I have someone using my office I should be there.
“Why are you here studying?” I’m still shaking and my heart is racing.
Only now the anger and the jealousy are colliding in my brain.
“Samantha had a guy stay last night, and he creeps me out. I was trying to study on the couch, but he kept checking me out. And, in the middle of the night, I’m fairly sure he was trying to open my bedroom door.”
Now that maternal instinct, which I never got to use on my own kids, but always kicks into gear with Julia, rises.
“Did you tell Samantha that?”
She shakes her head. “You know her. He’ll be a one night person.”
“Still, he doesn’t sound safe.”
Now there is knocking on the front door of the shop, and I step back out of the office to see Noah standing there, two cups of coffee stacked atop one another in one hand while peering in the window. His brows are drawn inward and when he sees me, his eyes go wide.
I hurry to the front door, unlock it, and pull it open.
“Are you okay? What the fuck was all the screaming about?”
“Julia scared the shit out of me. That’s all,” I say.
He nods rapidly. “Oh, well, as long as that’s all.”
And we’re here in this moment for longer than we should be. The moment where I’m grateful he wasn’t fooling around with Julia in my office, and the moment he’s glad no one was killing me.
“Hey, Mr. Carter,” Julia calls from the counter as she lays down her stack of books and laptop and picks up the coffee cup that had been sitting there.
Noah looks at her, then back at me, before acknowledging her welcome with only a lift of his head.
“Here,” he hands me one of the drinks in his hand. “This is for you.”
My smile is automatic as I take the cup. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m not sure either of us need it now. When I heard you scream, my heartrate spiked.”
His sincerity warms me and I step back to let him into the store. “I do still have the brownie from yesterday. That would settle us,” I tease.
He lifts a brow. “Not sure that would increase my productivity.”
“I’m not sure it will.”
Julia makes a show of picking up her items and walking toward the reading nook. “Don’t mean to bother the two of you. I know this is your quiet time. Don’t mind me.”
I watch her salute us with her empty coffee cup and disappear in the nook.
“Do we already have a routine?” Noah asks, his head tilted toward mine.
“You know those young’ns, they always are assuming.”
“And you know what happens when you assume,” he teases as he walks toward the office and disappears behind the closed door without even a creak.
The UPS guy delivers nearly a truck load of boxes to the back door around nine o’clock. It’s safe to say that Julia’s studying time has come to an end. However, having finished that entire Ski Bum, she’s buzzing around the store unpacking books and stacking them in the back room.
Katie walks through the door just after ten o’clock, and today she’s dressed in the most Colorado outfit I’ve seen her in so far. She has on a Patagonia puffer coat, a pair of designer jeans, and a pair of UGGs.
“I have verification that all of your preorders just landed,” she says, pulling her dark sunglasses off of her face.
“Julia is back there now taking inventory. We have our work cut out for us to get them in order and ready.”
“No books go out early,” she says and I draw a cross over my heart, even though her comment could be taken in the worst way, considering I’ve done this for the past twelve years, well even more. I know the rules.
Katie leans in close to me. “How is he?”
“Who? Noah?”
“He’s not bothering you, is he? I mean, you say the word and I’ll pull him out of here. He can work in his hotel room.”
“He’s a delight. He fixed my office door last night. We even went to dinner after.”
She studies me and the hardness in her face softens. “No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
“Maybe the lack of oxygen agrees with him,” she says just as Noah steps out of the office—with no notice given because the door is so quiet.
“Less oxygen keeps my mood intact,” he says sipping from his coffee cup, then shaking it, perhaps realizing it’s empty.
Katie’s eyes go wide, but the professional side of her loads up a smile as she sets her bag on the counter. “Did you see the New York Times?” she asks him and he nods nonchalantly.
“I didn’t,” I say, because I don’t know what this secret language between New Yorkers is.
Katie pulls a printed piece of paper from her commuter bag and slides it in my direction.
Caught in the Crossfire by Noah Carter is the number one selling book on the list—and it doesn’t come out for another two weeks.
I shift my glance toward him, the grin wide on my face is tugging at my cheeks.
“This is amazing,” I say, and all he does is shrug.
Seriously, does something like this just become old hat? At what point does it no longer matter?
Katie shifts a glance between us before taking the paper out of my hand.
“I’ve already initiated another order of books for you.
You’re going to need them,” she says and I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand.
“Fully returnable if they don’t sell. You have credit, and we’ll discuss the options when the event is done.
This is all riding on my word,” she promises.
Noah leans in behind me. “I wouldn’t bank on me that hard,” he says, but when I look up at him, he’s looking at Katie.
Her lips flatten and there is a sadness in her eyes, as if she’s heard him discredit his talents too many times.
“Anyway,” she continues after drawing in a breath to regroup, “I see that you have a book club gathering this evening?”
“Every other Wednesday,” I say. “It’s our romance book club.”
Noah shakes his head, and I realize just how close he still is to me. “Do you have other book clubs or romance only?”
“It’s the only book club I can get people to regularly sign up for,” I say, but my voice is a bit strained.
“ Whispers of the Heart?” he says and I nod, knowing we had this discussion yesterday.
“Well, I wish I could be here,” Katie says, breaking the tension that is building between me and her author. “I have to fly back to New York for a few days, but I’ll be back Sunday,” she assures me, or maybe Noah.
“I can sign you up for the next one,” I say.
“I’d love that. There is nothing better than a good romance,” she says, and again, it’s directed right at Noah. “Now, do you have some time to go over the schedules for the event week?”