Chapter 6
Flint
I got to the bookstore at seven in the morning, a full two hours before we opened.
The reading nook had been bothering me since I first walked into the store. Ratty armchairs that sagged in the middle, a coffee table so low you’d throw your back out trying to read at it, and lighting dim enough to give anyone eyestrain within twenty minutes.
It wasn’t inviting. It was a liability.
So I’d made a trade with my buddy, Austin, the night before. Half a wild hog I’d hunted last week in exchange for a solid oak table with a fancy-ass rock top, and four sturdy dining chairs from his grandmother’s estate sale.
Austin had been happy to get the meat, and I’d been happy to get furniture that wouldn’t fall apart if someone actually sat in it.
I hauled the table in first. The chairs came next. They were sturdy, and they’d last a decade if people treated them right.
Then I grabbed the old armchairs one by one and tossed them into the bed of my pickup. The coffee table followed, its wobbly legs finally giving up the ghost. Everything was headed for the town dump later today.
Back inside, I climbed my stepladder and installed the overhead light I’d picked up from Stone at the hardware store. It was a simple fixture, nothing fancy, but it threw clean, bright light across the whole reading nook.
I was tightening the last screw when the bell over the front door chimed.
“What are you doing?” Avery’s voice hit me before I could turn around, and when I did, my hands nearly slipped off the ladder.
She was wearing a peach skirt today, the material swishing around her calves as she walked toward me.
She had on those same yellow ballet flats from the first day I’d seen her.
And she had a white cardigan on, buttoned up the front, except the top button had come loose, leaving a gap that drew my eye straight to where her breasts pressed against the knit fabric.
It was such a small thing. Just one button.
But I couldn’t stop looking at it.
From my vantage point standing there on the ladder, I could see the soft swell of her chest and the way the cardigan pulled slightly with each breath she took. I went half-hard, grateful she wasn’t studying me too close.
“Flint?” She crossed her arms, which only made things worse because it pushed her breasts together. “What happened to the reading nook?”
Damn, I wanted to slowly tug every last button loose on her cardigan and find out what was hiding underneath it.
I climbed down and wiped my hands on my jeans, trying to get my head back in the game. “Fixed it.”
“Fixed it?” Her voice pitched higher. “You threw out the armchairs?”
“They were falling apart.”
“They were comfortable.” She walked over to the new setup, her lips pressing into a thin line as she took in the oak table and wooden chairs. “No one is going to like these hard chairs. And this table, it’s so stuffy and formal. This isn’t a library, Flint. It’s a bookstore.”
I let her vent while I grabbed the sign I’d made and set it in the center of the table. I was getting used to her quiet fire. Avery had big opinions. She didn’t scare easily… and I liked that.
Avery leaned forward to read my sign, her brow furrowing.
Be Kind To Our Books.
No Food. No Drinks. No Dog Ears.
Then, in tiny fine print at the bottom:
Violators will be forced to buy twelve books and ride the mechanical bull at the Bear Den on maximum speed.
I was pretty proud of that sign.
I’d gone to the library yesterday after the Western Book Club finally cleared out, made the sign on one of their computers, and asked the librarian to help me print and laminate it. She’d gotten a good laugh out of the bull riding part.
But Avery’s lips started twitching in that way they did when she was trying not to say something she’d regret.
“People bring their lunch here,” she said, her voice tight. “And everyone carries a water bottle these days. Are you going to confiscate water bottles too? You’ll drive all our customers away!”
I didn’t argue with her.
Instead, I walked behind the register and pulled out a cardboard box I’d been filling for the past few days. It was overflowing with damaged books.
I flipped open the top one and held it up. “Jelly stains.”
Avery’s mouth opened, but I was already reaching for the next book.
“Creased spine.” I set it aside and grabbed another. “Coffee spill. This one’s got what I’m pretty sure is mustard.” I kept going, book after book. “Your locals are costing my aunt money. They need to pay up or get out.”
Avery’s shoulders dropped slightly, and she let out a long breath. “You may have a point.”
I knew how hard that must have been for her to admit, so I couldn’t resist rubbing it in just a little.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I cupped my hand behind my ear. “Did Avery Fisher just say I was right about something?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and those expressive lips of hers twitched again, caught somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “Don’t let it go to your head, Flint.”
“Too late.”
She huffed and turned away, but I knew she was pleased with me as she headed for the front door to unlock it for opening.
The moment she flipped the lock, she gasped and stepped back inside.
There was a mob of women on the sidewalk. At least a dozen of them.
I recognized a few faces from around town, but most of them were strangers to me.
“Good morning, ladies!” Avery recovered and said brightly, stepping aside to let them in. “Welcome to Bookish, where worlds await.”
They barely acknowledged her.
Every single one of them made a beeline straight for me.
“Excuse me,” a redhead in a tight sweater said, batting her eyelashes. “Where do you keep the bookmarks?”
“They’re by the register,” I rumbled.
“Oh, what a dear!” The redhead giggled but didn’t move. “Will you help me pick one out?”
Another woman shouldered past her. “I’m looking for recommendations. What do you like to read?”
“Uh.” I glanced at Avery, who was watching the whole scene with her arms crossed and her lips pressed together so hard they’d gone white. “I don’t really do that. I mostly read lawnmower manuals and hunting magazines.”
“That’s so rugged,” the woman breathed.
Avery let out a quiet snort and walked away.
A third woman appeared at my elbow. “Can you help me reach something on the historical romance shelf? I’m just so short.”
I caught Avery’s eye across the store, and something in her expression made my chest tighten. She looked flustered, her cheeks flushed and her jaw tight.
She was jealous. I knew it in my gut. Although she’d probably rather chew glass than admit it.
Heat gathered in my cock as I realized Avery was starting to feel possessive of me.
She could possess me all night long if she wanted to.
“Avery can help you with that,” I growled, stepping back from the cluster of women. Then I said to everyone, “She knows the store better than me.”
The redhead pouted. “But I wanted you to help me.”
“Avery’s the expert.” I jerked my chin toward where she stood, holding firm. “She’ll take good care of all of you.”
It felt wrong, having all these strangers pawing at me when the only woman I wanted looking at me was standing across the room pretending she didn’t care.
I walked over to Avery, my fingers dragging slowly across the small of her back, casual to anyone watching, but a deliberate message just for her.
Then I glared at every one of the women who’d looked at me like I was their mountain candy, while I stood too close to my woman, making it clear who had my eye.
One by one, each one of the women got helped by Avery while I stood guard over her.
After the group left, I sat on the stool behind the register for a second. “Where the hell did they come from?”
Avery sighed, “I think word has gotten out about you being here. That’s one way to drum up business.”
“You think they came in because of me?”
She gave me a look like I was crazy if I thought it was for any other reason. Then she opened her mouth to say—
Damn it. At that moment, our new hire, Shelly, walked in.
I wanted more time with Avery. As the morning wore on, I found myself paying more attention to Avery than I did to the customers.
She was training Shelly, who’d started her first day with nervous energy and a genuine smile. Avery was patient with her, walking her through the register system and explaining how the inventory worked.
But something was off.
It wasn’t just the loose button on her cardigan, though that kept catching my eye every time she moved. There were other little things.
Her pretty blonde hair wasn’t as smooth as usual, as if she’d rushed through brushing it this morning.
And there were dark circles under her eyes, shadows that told me she hadn’t slept well.
She seemed almost… frazzled.
So I tried to step in, even though this bookstore was more her domain than mine.
When a customer had a complicated return and got a little nasty, I took over and handled it.
I didn’t know why I felt so protective of her, but I did.
It unsettled me, this urge to smooth out the rough edges of her day.
At five o’clock, Avery sent Shelly home with praise for a solid first training shift. The store was quiet for the moment, just the two of us behind the counter with a few hours before the book club arrived.
“You all right?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
Avery’s head snapped up, and she met my eyes with worried ones of her own. “What?”
“You don’t seem like yourself today.”
She was quiet for a long moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cardigan. Then she let out a shaky breath.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “About Bookish closing. It’s eating at me, Flint. This place means everything to me, and I don’t know what I’ll do if it goes under.”
The raw honesty in her voice hit me somewhere deep.
Before I could stop myself, I reached out and touched her arm gently, my palm curving around her soft skin. She went still under my hand, her blue eyes wide as she looked up at me.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, my voice coming out rough. “Together. I promise.”
She didn’t pull away.
Instead, her gaze drifted past me to the reading nook, where three tourists sat at the new table with a stack of books piled between them. A preteen girl was tugging on her father’s sleeve, her voice carrying across the quiet store.
“Please, Dad? Can I get seven of them? One for each day of our vacation?”
Her father laughed and said something about needing a bigger suitcase. Then he told her to buy all the books she wanted.
Avery’s lips twitched, and I knew it was hard for her to admit that my idea had worked, but it had.
Even if Mrs. Clemm of the jelly-spreading clan had huffed out earlier when she discovered the cozy armchairs were gone for good.
“The Mountain Man Romance Book Club meets tonight,” I said, releasing her arm reluctantly. “Would you mind coming back to help me with it? I’m a little…” I searched for the right word. “Outnumbered.”
Avery’s lips curved into the first real smile I’d seen from her all day.
“Intimidated?” she suggested.
“I didn’t say that.” I squared my shoulders.
“You didn’t have to.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and something warm flickered in her eyes. “Yeah, Flint. I’ll come back.”