Chapter Six
After saying goodbye to Kaylee, I walked to my hearse that I’d parked in front All Booked Up, which was a bookstore right next to the coffee shop. While fishing out my car keys, a distinct buzz hit my temples, the telltale sign of someone watching me. I looked up, catching an old granny smiling at me from where she dusted a window display. Something about the way her smile reached her eyes drew me in.
“Hello there!” her little voice quaked as I entered. She was barefoot, in a dress with a faded apricot cardigan dwarfing her frail frame. Even with her white hair formed into a little poof on her head, she was about the same height as I was, which was nice.
“Hello, ma’am. How are you?”
“Oh, I love that Southern drawl. I’m good, honey. I just saw you walking with Kaylee. Are you one of her friends from back home in Texas?”
“Yes, I am. Here for the wedding. My name is Maisie.” I extended my hand for her to shake.
“Viviane.” She smiled, her pink, thin lips curving as she placed a small, cold hand in mine to shake. “Oh, I love your Goosebumps shirt!”
I chuckled, opening my jacket to further reveal it. “I didn’t even plan on wearing a bookish shirt in here. I’m just a 90s kid that grew up.”
“For the record, all my Goosebumps books are down in the basement along with the mass-market paperbacks. They’re on sale for a buck right now before summer really ramps up and the tourists take over. I’m open for another hour, so feel free to wander.”
“Sounds great, thank you.”
I meandered deeper into the rows of books, feeling her gaze on me the whole way. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was searching for. Admittedly, I wasn’t much of a reader. Ever since college, I’d felt like my attention span was shorter. Academic stress had rotted my brain, so I stuck mostly to trashy reality TV shows and true crime documentaries.
The spine of a lilac book caught my attention, and tilting my head, I read the title: The Seat of the Soul by Gary Zukav. That sounded a bit airy fairy, but something about it made me pull it out for further inspection.
It was a book on secular spirituality and tapping into reverence for life. I could get behind that. Opening it, I found a strip of paper from a fortune cookie serving as a bookmark. I thought I was the only one who did that. In faded blue, it stated: Be bold and totally worth the chaos.
I snorted, feeling like that had been written for me. Turning the book over, I saw the used price was $4.44.
Okay, now this was just getting weird.
Being born on the fourth day of the fourth month of the year, my lucky number had always been 4. I had it on my softball jersey, and Kaylee said since I was always seeing 4:44 on the clock, it was my angel number.
The book was in fairly good condition, with a tight binding, its pages only slightly yellowed. There was a receipt clinging to the backside of the cover. The book was traded for credit with several cheap paperback Westerns. And there it was, at the very bottom right of the receipt, all the damning evidence I needed.
Account holder: MacCloyd, Dane
Why would he have read a book about this? He didn’t strike me as a spiritual person, but the further I read, I could see why he liked it. It wasn’t overly flowery or steeped in doctrine. It seemed unpretentious and like a good starting point.
I reasoned with myself that it wasn’t illegal to buy a book before shutting it to walk up front. Viviane was perched in an armchair, waiting for me while light classical music trilled from her laptop.
“Ah, good choice! Even Maya Angelou loves this one!” she said.
“Always a good start.” I flashed her a friendly grin, pulling out my wallet. “Hey, are you familiar with the class tomorrow over at the community center?”
A ding sounded. My eyes sliced to the intruder, my blood jolting as I saw Dane strut in with a paper bag stuffed with books, the seams threatening to rip. He’d changed into his coveralls, clearly returning to work since our little interlude this afternoon. The navy fabric was littered with oil stains and dirt as it stretched across his wide chest with his name stitched over one of the breast pockets. To make matters worse, he wore a backward baseball cap, and a touch of grease was smeared on his neck next to his Adam’s apple. I had to look away, feeling fucking feral.
“Hi, Dane honey!” Viviane said.
“Sorry, I know you’re about to close. I’m hoping to grab something to read tonight since I don’t have any plans.” He shot me a loaded look before returning to her. “Did you get the loot?”
“Yeah, some old geezer in Skowhegan croaked. Found these at his estate sale.” Her little, arthritic hand slapped a box on her counter. “You’re gonna shit yourself when you see some of these titles.”
“Perfect!” he said, flopping the sack next to it.
This close, he smelled like grime mixed with the faint hint of manly musk layered with the existing oakmoss and leather from earlier. My instinct was to flare my nostrils for an indulgent whiff.
Girl, get your shit together! You are not swooning over motor oil and sweat.
Viviane’s bluebonnet eyes darted between the two of us. “This pretty, little gal was about to tell me all about her class tomorrow.”
Dane leaned on the counter to join the conversation. “My apologies. So sorry to interrupt. Please, go on.” He pulled his mouth in a cocky grin, undoubtedly loving my torment.
I focused my attention on Viviane. “It’s a class I’m hosting with Maxine about senior sexuality.”
She wrapped her cardigan around her body. “I love that woman. She does great things for our aging community.”
“She’s great. I own an adult boutique down in Austin— “
“It’s called Pretty Kitty,” Dane interrupted, causing her face to wrinkle even further with an amused smile.
“I’ve brought several different models of adult toys for people to look at and a personal lubricant that has squalene in it. It’s very moisturizing and great for aging skin.”
“Ya gotta keep it wet and ready,” Viviane said with a wink.
I let out an appreciative chuckle. “Yes, exactly, you get a toy and a bottle of the lube when you sign up. It’s included in the cost of the class.”
Viviane’s jaw slacked in awe. “What a lovely idea!”
“Yeah!” I beamed.
“Want to carpool?” Dane asked her jokingly.
I smacked his arm. “Stop!”
Straightening up from the desk, he towered over me. “She doesn’t like to drive. I was offering her a ride. You know, being a gentleman.”
I stepped closer to him, not letting him intimidate me. “It’s for seniors. You can’t come.”
“Are you being an ageist?” He tilted his head with his question.
I stepped even closer, damn near chest to chest. The hint of his body heat drew me in as I fought a steady tone. “It’s more for women—”
“So only women can use sex toys?” he countered.
Viviane’s little laugh tittered between us.
Even in the unflattering light of the bookstore, he was irritatingly handsome. His smirk traveled up from his kissable lips to his knowing eyes. He lifted his hand, causing me to hold my breath under the assumption that he was about to tuck hair behind my ear again. Instead, he grabbed the book I’d just bought, flipping through it in consideration. “Great choice by the way. Loved this one.”
I snatched it out of his hand, slapping him on the chest with it. “You’re not welcome in my class! Do you hear me?”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . I have my reasons.”
“And they are?”
I looked to Viviane for a lifeline, but she just handed me my receipt.
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“Okay, well, Maxine loves me, and Viviane here needs a ride.”
She gave us an innocent shrug of her frail shoulders.
Oh how quickly the granny turned on me!
“I guess I’m outnumbered here. Thank you for the book, ma’am.” I nodded to make my exit, but before I could, he held open the door, forcing me to press past his chest at the threshold.
“Oh, and Maisie . . .”
“Yeah?” I said, turning around in a huff.
His eyes flicked to the book in my hand. “If you wanted a piece of me as a souvenir, you could’ve just asked.”