Chapter 12
Book club doesn’t start until six-thirty, but set-up starts the moment I throw that nasty salad away.
Our reading nook has two oversized chairs where we’ll host authors when they are in town for a reading and a Q&A.
For book club nights, I sit in one of the chairs and guide our group through the discussion of the book.
Instead of rows of chairs, we set up in a circle so it’s more intimate.
We serve wine and cheeses, and Mrs. Packer, always the first to sign up for book club, brings a dessert that is safe for the masses to eat.
Lily left to run a few errands, and Julia headed to the bar to get herself an edible lunch.
While the store is quiet, and Noah is not in my office, I need to pull up my notes on the book and print them out. I have a well-annotated copy of Whispers of the Heart, which is also in the drawer.
I sit down at my desk and readjust the chair because Noah is at least ten inches taller than me.
I adjust the keyboard back into its normal position and turn on my computer.
I search for the notes on the book and send them to the printer.
I check a few emails. And then I open the folder entitled Falling for You.
Fifty thousand words scroll in front of me. Fifty thousand words that I’ve written, rewritten, edited, and still hate. No, I don’t hate them, I reconsider as I read the few paragraphs that land on the screen as I stop scrolling.
I’m more in love with this book than I ever was with Sean.
Perhaps I always thought this book would be the manifestation I needed to have real love in my life.
I’ve just never felt it was good enough to query to an agent or even independently publish myself.
Lily thinks differently—and that’s why she’s my dearest friend.
“Emma?” I hear Mrs. Packer call my name from the store and I push back from my computer and walk out of the office. “Hello, sweetheart. I brought the dessert over for tonight. Do you have room in your refrigerator for it?”
She hands me a tray of tarts covered in cling film. “Don’t these look delicious,” I moan.
“They are. Noah thinks so too. I gave him one earlier as a tester.”
“You know if you feed strays, they will stay,” I tease and she grins up at me.
“I’d keep him,” she says with a lot of enthusiasm. “I’d best go finish so I’m ready for book club.”
I carry the tarts to the back room and slide them into the refrigerator as Julia walks back into the store, followed by three women who frequently shop here.
I return to my office, grab my annotated copy of Whispers of the Heart , and my notes, and walk back to the counter to help customers.
It’s nearly my most favorite part of my job.
That and reading all day long when I can.
There is nothing better than having all the books you’d ever want to read right at your fingertips.
And, when the publishers send advance read copies, it’s like having a secret Christmas.
As is the norm before book club, many of those who signed up come in early.
We’ll have the next book on sale, and of course the wine and cheeses are out.
We won’t put out the tarts until book club is over.
It makes for a long night, and a dark drive home up the mountain, but it’s part of the charm of owning the store and living where I do.
Ten minutes before we start, I pull out my notes and look over them one more time.
“Do you think Evan is swoon-worthy enough for an Alyssa Maxwell book?” the familiar voice has me looking up from my notes.
Noah is leaned against the counter, his grin turning up one side of his mouth.
He’s shaved, but has left what looks like the beginning of a goatee. I continue to study him as he moves in, leaning his arms on the counter.
“There is a feeling of duty, ya know?” he says.
“You read this book?”
“Didn’t I tell you a good author reads across genres. I’m familiar with this one.”
“You’re not here for book club, are you?” I ask, remembering he wrote his name on the sheet, but I didn’t take him seriously.
His smile widens. “Actually, I took a hike today and I think I worked through my plot problem in my book.”
“You’re having problems with your book?” I sound like a parrot.
The smile he’s been wielding slips. “All authors hit road blocks once in a while,” he says as the door opens and more women walk through, each with a copy of tonight’s book. “How long will you be here tonight?”
“Until at least nine-thirty.”
“Do you mind if I work?”
“I don’t mind at all. We won’t distract you?”
He shakes his head and walks around the counter. “The only distraction is knowing there are tarts in the back room. But Agnes promised me one, so don’t let someone take it.”
“Agnes?”
The grin is back. “Mrs. Packer.”
“You’re on a first name basis? She doesn’t let anyone call her by her first name.”
“No one does as many dishes as I do.”
“You’re doing dishes there?” I ask, and I realize my voice is rising, though not attracting any attention.
Noah leans in close enough that his lips are next to my ear. “She has a thing for me,” he says and his warm breath sends a tingle up my spine.
“You’re not …” I leave it hang there, pulling back so that I’m looking him in the eye, but our noses nearly touch we’re so close.
“She’d be one lucky woman, wouldn’t she?”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know, would she be?”
Noah gives me a wink and moves past me to the office. “Tell me when the tarts come out. I don’t want to miss them.”
He shuts the door, and it doesn’t make a noise.
I have to draw in a few breaths. Noah Carter confuses me. He’s broody, sexy, talented, broken, and fuck he smells so good when he gets close to me. And why does he get close to me? Because he’s messing with me, that’s why. Or is he?
“Everyone is ready,” Lily says as she walks toward the counter. “Are you okay? Is the cheese bad? I made one more stop after I picked it up today. It didn’t?—”
“No. No, the cheese is fine.”
“You’re flushed,” she says scanning a look over me.
“Hot flash,” I say, because it’s a good answer for anything when you’re my age.
“Your hair isn’t wet.”
“It was just a warm flash?”
Lily snickers at that. “I keep clean clothes in my car and those body wipes too. I hate getting old.”
“The alternative is worse,” I say and she nods.
“At least the sex gets better,” she says and I choke out a laugh.
“Does it?”
“Does for me. We know each other so well that nothing is off the table. It’s all trust and new positions. Well, because of my knee and his hip.”
That has me cackling. Lily does love to share tidbits about her sex life, and always has. I’ve just never had much to add to the conversation.
When Noah moves something in the office, Lily’s attention is diverted from me to the closed door.
“Who’s in there?” she asks.
“Noah.”
“I thought he left hours ago.”
“He did. He took a hike and now he’s motivated to write.”
She nods slowly as I pick up the book and notes and we head to book club to discuss just how swoon-worthy we all think Evan really is for an Alyssa Maxwell book.