3. Hadley
Hadley
The vanilla latte I ordered from the coffee shop inside the bookstore warms my hand as I peruse the aisles of the children’s section, looking for the perfect gifts to give my nieces after their recital tomorrow.
The library will always have my heart, but a bookstore is a close second.
Especially independently owned bookstores like Turn the Page.
I pause at the early readers and kneel to get a better look at the glossy covers adorned with cats and unicorns.
“I wonder which one Eloise would enjoy,” I mutter to myself, picking a few books off the shelf to look at.
Before I can stand up, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life turns down the aisle.
My breath catches in my throat as I take in his nearly too-long dark hair, chiseled jawline, and goodness, is he some kind of brick wall?
He is massive. And he’s looking at me. I feel the heat rush to my cheeks.
Darn my Irish heritage! I’m positive I look like a tomato on fire now.
“Do you need some help?” he asks. His voice is deep and rumbly, like gravel wrapped in velvet. It’s the kind of voice that makes you forget your own name.
Which is the only explanation for why, instead of smoothly standing from my crouched position, I fall backward and land straight on my tush, barely saving my latte and dropping the books. My face heats. If I could burst into flames like a phoenix right now, I’d do it.
He chuckles and bends down, picking up the books I’d dropped. “Here, let me help.”
“Thanks,” I say in reply. Why is my voice like that? I clear my throat and try again. “Thank you,” I say, though I’m not sure that’s any better than it was the first time.
He grins, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips. Almost as if he’s used to girls falling on their behinds when he’s around. Of course he is Hadley. He’s gorgeous.
“No problem,” he says, handing over the small stack of books I’d chosen. “Maybe you can help me out? I’m looking for a book to send to my nephew. He’s learning how to read, and I want to encourage that.”
Be. Still. My. Beating. Heart. “Uh, of course,” I say, trying to will my heart to stop racing like it’s taking part in the Kentucky Derby. “What kind of things does he like?”
The man grins. “He likes hockey, animals… I don’t know, little boy stuff?” He shrugs his shoulders.
I scan the shelves, looking for something that might work. “Does he like mysteries, adventure?”
He runs his hand through his thick hair, and for a moment, my hand tingles, wondering what it would feel like to do the same.
What? No. I don’t date gorgeous men who know they are gorgeous. That’s a recipe for disaster.
“He is almost six, if that helps. I don’t know if he has a preference for genres yet.” He smiles, and my traitorous heart leaps in my chest.
He knows what genres are, a little voice says in my head. He’s gorgeous, cares about his nephew’s reading habits, and knows what genres are. Get his number!
I shake my head, clearing the wild thoughts from my brain. Get it together, Hadley! “Alright, let’s see.” I snag a few books from the shelf and hand them to him. Our fingers brush, and goosebumps erupt on my skin. What the heck?
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Thanks,” he says, taking a step back. “I appreciate your help.”
I smile, forcing myself to look away from his rich chocolate eyes. “No problem, I love books. I’m a librarian.” He didn’t ask, Hads. Stop talking!
“That sounds like an amazing job.” He holds out his hand, inviting me to shake it. “I’m Bryce, by the way.”
I slip my palm into his and his fingers wrap around mine. “Hadley,” I say, my voice cracking a bit. Will I ever NOT be awkward?
“It’s nice to meet you, Hadley,” Bryce says, slowly letting go of my hand. “I… This is going to sound forward, and I don’t mean for it to, but I feel like if I don’t ask, I’ll regret it forever.”
He’s tripping over his words, and it’s the most endearing thing I think I’ve ever seen. “Ask what?” I say when he takes a break, clearly trying to gather his thoughts.
“For your number,” he says finally, his eyes meeting mine. “I was wondering if I could have your number? I’m in town for a few weeks for work, and I’d love to take you for coffee,” he says, gesturing to my latte. “Or, maybe dinner,” he adds, a hint of hopefulness in his voice.
Do I break my rule and give him my number? We just met. He does seem sweet, and genuine. But, he’s only in town for a few weeks. Is that better or worse? Hmm.
“It’s okay,” he says, interrupting my internal debate, his shoulders slumping a bit in defeat. “I understand if you don’t feel comfortable. I just had to ask. It was nice meeting you, Hadley.” He smiles and turns to leave.
“Wait,” I say, deciding to go for it. There’s something about him that makes me feel safe. Protected. And a niggling feeling that if I don’t give this man my number, I might regret it. “I’d love to get coffee sometime.”
He smiles, and his whole face lights up. Bryce was gorgeous before, but now… Wow. He takes out his phone and types my information into his contacts as I rattle off my number.
“I’ll text you later so we can plan a time to grab coffee,” he says, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “I have to run, but I look forward to seeing you again, Hadley.”
Before I can formulate a reply, he’s gone. I watch him walk toward the register with the books I’d chosen for his nephew. He didn’t even look at them. Hopefully I chose something the little boy will like.
My stomach is twisted into knots. What in the world just happened?
You just gave your number to the most handsome man you’ve ever met, the voice in my head helpfully replies. Paige is going to be so proud of you.
I chuckle to myself. Paige is always encouraging me to put myself out there.
To be more open to dating and finding love.
Jokes on her, though. Bryce is only in town for a few weeks, so there’s no chance of coffee turning into a relationship.
Certainly not love. It’s a coffee date with a gorgeous man who is in town for work. Not even worth mentioning, really.
“Ma’am, do you need some help?” A young woman with a name badge indicating she works here asks.
“Oh, no. Thank you,” I say, grabbing my things. “I was just trying to decide which to get.”
“Okay,” she says, giving me her best customer service smile. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will. Thank you.” I take the books I’ve already chosen, and my now-cooling latte, and move to the pre-reader section to search for something for Clara.
The books blur together as my mind replays the encounter with Bryce. I finally give up and grab something that is bright and colorful and call it a day. I’m sure the girls will love whatever I give them. They are little bookworms in the making.
The thought makes me smile. I wonder if Bryce’s nephew loves books as much as I do. Probably not… I don’t know many people who prefer books to social engagements.
“Maybe that’s because we stay home and read,” I mutter, snort-laughing at my own joke.
“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” the cashier asks as I place my books on the counter.
“And then some,” I reply, thinking of Bryce again.
She smiles. “Good, I’m glad to hear it.”
I snag a colorful bookmark for each girl off the display and add them to the pile. “These, too, please.”
She scans them and slips them into the bag. “Someone’s going to be happy,” she says, after telling me my total.
“My nieces,” I say, swiping my card. “I like to gift them books as much as I can.”
“Well, I’m sure they will be thrilled,” she says, slipping the receipt into the bag and passing the purchase over the counter to me. “I hope you have a nice day.”
“Thanks, you too.”
The door chimes as I push through to the sidewalk and into the bright sunshine of the afternoon. I slide my sunglasses on and join the throng of people who are out and about sightseeing or shopping. There’s an energy in the city that doesn’t exist in the small-town I grew up in.
At home, everyone seems to know your business, even before you do. Here, I can get lost in the crowd. People aren’t watching and whispering about the latest gossip. They’re too busy taking in the sights and experiencing the rich history of our great nation.
It’s perfect for a bookworm introvert like me.
Though I do miss the quiet of home occasionally.
If only there was a way to have both. I chuckle and sidestep a mom pushing a stroller.
I need to get a move on if I’m going to make it to the grocery store and the dry cleaner before I have to get ready for girls’ night with Paige.
I’m in the kitchen arranging the last of the charcuterie board when my front door slams open and Paige rushes in. “You’ll never believe it,” she says, clutching something to her chest and bouncing up and down.”
“You got picked to be on DC has Drama?” I ask, raising a brow.
Paige shakes her head. “Be serious, Hads, that’s not even a thing.”
I was being serious. It may not be a real reality show, but if it was, she’d definitely win. “Uhm, okay…” I say, thinking. “You just had your birthday lunch with your parents. So, I’m guessing they bought you a new car.”
She laughs. “Nope, they bought me a new car last year.” She frowns a bit.
“Even though I told them I didn’t need a new car.
” Paige’s parents are ‘high society.’ Her Dad is a small-time politician, but he’s hoping to run for the House next year, so apparently appearances matter.
Not to Paige, though. It’s part of why we get along so well.
While most people in DC are worried about votes and making an impression, we both want to make a difference.
“I’m out of guesses,” I say, popping a carrot into my mouth. “You’ll have to just tell me.”
She slaps an envelope down on the counter and squeals. “We’re going to the Stars and Stripes Tournament! All five games!”