Chapter 15 #4
“I have,” Lilian answered primly, “and wet pages are a big no-no for book buyers. There are some things we can live with and that is not one.”
“Look at you, you sound like an expert on your target audience.” There was almost a touch of awe in the compliment that made Lilian swell with pride.
Outside, the steady patter of rainfall suddenly turned into a deafening drum. A few patrons squealed and ducked for shelter. Lilian and Hawk stared at the downpour. It was coming down so hard and fast she could barely see Russ's cottage.
“I… guess I'll have to take shelter for a little while,” Hawk said slowly.
“That's probably a good idea,” she agreed.
“And you can tell me all about this book you're so into.”
“Seriously? I thought you hated fantasy books.”
“I don't hate them. I just don't make them my whole personality,” he explained, moving toward the fantasy shelf.
His fingers followed the bumps and ridges of the spines, noting under his breath each one that he had read.
To her surprise, it was almost the entire shelf.
“You can't grow up in the Carlisle house hating books. My mother would have disowned me.”
Lilian gave the man her most powerful side-eye, but Hawk had a point. There was nothing better to do as they waited out the rain. She tentatively held the book out so he could see the cover. “It's called The Raven King, and it's one of the best fantasy novels in the world.”
“Ah, the one you gave my mother.” Hawk's tone was curious as he leaned over the book counter. “What makes it so great?”
“It was ahead of its time. It perfectly melds the romance genre with fantasy. Not many people were looking for that in the early nineties, so the sales weren’t there. Eventually it was discontinued.”
He cocked his head, a smirk playing on his lips. Not too long ago, she’d only seen arrogance in the look. Now there appeared a hint of playfulness in his eye. “It didn’t sell well, but it’s the greatest book in the world? Call me a skeptic.”
“Don’t downplay the fans. This book has a cult following.”
“So, what makes it so great?”
She hesitated, and Hawk's brows dipped when he noticed. “What?”
“I'm not sure if you'll understand,” Lilian admitted.
“A lot of what makes the series good is what makes the faire good.” She watched him carefully, waiting for him to scoff at the notion.
She knew what Hawk thought about the faire and its more fantastical elements.
It once felt like a line in the sand between them.
A value she would not accept. But after the last couple weeks, it had been easier to forget his ridicule.
Even now, he didn't sneer, didn't even tell her she was being silly. His head bobbed in slow understanding. “Okay, and what is that?”
Something in Lilian's chest tightened. She felt like she was about to tell her deepest secret out loud, and all she could do was hope that he would treat it gently.
“This book was my first taste of escapism when I was a teenager. Two sisters fall into a magical world, and despite the odds and the evil in the world, they find magic and love,” she explained.
“It felt like the author was writing a story for me. As a teenager, I wanted someone to love me as fiercely as the Raven King loves Penelope. I wanted a place where girls like me, who were stuck on a farm, could become heroes. It was so different from anything else I had read. It’s not all magic and faeries.
There is real emotion in the writing. Grief and joy, love and devastation.
And then there's the amazing sex the characters have!”
Hawk's brows rose at that. “Ms. Brody!”
“It's true.” Lilian laughed as the heat of a blush touched her cheeks.
But she couldn't stop talking. “Why do boys get to read fantasy about boys turning into men through battles? Yet little girls get fade to black in happily ever afters. In The Raven King, Penelope grew up with me. I saw her transform from a girl to a woman with each book. And it really stuck with me. So few books show that transformation.”
The difference was imprinted on her like an invisible tattoo.
Books with teen girls as the protagonists often dealt with contemporary problems. The struggles of school and boys.
But she had known those struggles, lived them daily, and she hated them.
When she opened a book, she got to experience something different.
She got to see a girl like her be powerful, make life or death decisions, and come out on top.
She had wanted to grow up so badly, and The Raven King let her experience that change. The good and the bad.
Her mother had seen this. That was why she’d given Lilian her first romance at the tender age of thirteen. “These books will teach you your worth,” she said. “And if you have any questions, we will talk about it.”
No man she’d dated ever treated her with the worship shown in romances.
But she’d learned the difference between boys and men.
She’d learned how women could be powerful without physical strength.
She’d learned that vulnerability didn't make a relationship weak. And she’d learned that she deserved someone who would try to change the world for her. Like Penelope.
“But you know what the best part of it was?” she asked. The question came out quiet, the rain threatening to consume it.
Hawk’s soft, “What?” echoed back.
“When I was reading it, I knew there would be a happy ending.”
Hawk's brows furrowed in confusion. “Doesn’t that make it predictable?”
Lilian shook her head. “Not at all. Because it's the journey this book takes you on that makes it amazing. Tabitha Nightingale truly makes you think there is no way, absolutely no way, these two will end up together. And somehow they do.”
She let out a deep, soulful sigh. It was its own strange kind of magic, how words on a page could bring up so many emotions. Encasing her in a warm glow of happiness.
“You can borrow it sometime or—” She didn't finish the offer before Hawk's lips fell against her own. Claiming her mouth in a way she had only read about.
Lilian's mind went wonderfully… horribly… blank.
Hawk was kissing her. Hawk was kissing her. Before she could respond, or even lean into the kiss, he pulled back, looking apologetic. “Sorry,” he said, “I know I said I wanted to be discreet about us at the faire, but I couldn't help it. You had this look on your face.”
“What look?” she breathed.
“Like you were in love.” He licked his lips, as if thinking twice about what he was about to say, but the words came out anyway. “And I really want you to look at me like that.”
How did he know that just from her face?
She did love books. They’d been her number one companion for years. When all her past boyfriends let her down, her books were always there. But they couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t kiss her. Couldn’t tell her that she mattered.
Or buy her coffee.
Or help her with a bookstore.
Lilian grabbed him by the V of his polo shirt. Her fingers dug into the wet cotton as she pulled him in for another bruising kiss.
She slanted her mouth over his and pressed forward. Hawk opened at her silent request, allowing her to deepen the kiss. He tasted like coffee. The same dark bitterness they’d shared earlier. Like those stolen sips, she wanted to consume all of him.
Thunder boomed in the distance, a loud, rolling sound that nearly drowned out her heartbeat. Hawk stepped closer, his damp polo brushing her bodice, as he backed her toward the wall behind the counter. The hard surface behind her and the solid warmth of him in front sent a sharp thrill through her.
She tipped her head, gesturing faintly at the shop around them. “Sneaking kisses during a storm. That’s very romantic.”
“Well, this is a romance store.”
“We sell things besides romance.” She nudged him gently, relieved when he still kept his body close.
“I forgot you also sell fantasies.” He said it like she was an arms dealer, selling dreams and romances like one might sell contraband.
Lilian shivered and wrapped her arm around his neck. To her surprise, he pressed his forehead against her own.
She waited for the excuses to come. For something at the faire to pull him away. Yet Hawk held her, and even more than that, his fingers tipped her chin up, and he kissed her again.
They stood like that. Huddled close together, kissing like they couldn’t get enough of each other.
Lilian forgot the faire was still going on around them. This was why he’d warned her against affection at the faire. Because once they started, it was impossible to stop.
Time slipped away, but Hawk eventually pulled back, his lips plump and thoroughly used. It made him look all the more handsome. “I have to go.”
A pang of remorse shot through her as she panted. “I know.” If he looked like that, she must be a mess as well.
When he stepped away, all sense returned. Any minute, someone could step into the shop and see them together. She was trying to be professional, and here she was kissing her boss in the middle of the workday.
“But I’d like to see you. I really want to continue having this conversation,” Hawk assured her, a flicker of lust lighting his eyes. “Tonight? After the faire?”
Lilian’s heart fluttered. “Sure,” she breathed. It was so hard to let his hand go after that. But when he pulled away, she let his grip slip through her fingers.
Hawk gave her a reassuring smile and stepped out into the rain. Lilian picked her book back off the ground where it had fallen, dusted it off, and leaned against the counter, ready to pick back up where she had left off.
But not even the beauty of the Dark Elm Ball could distract her from Hawk Carlisle and that kiss.