TYSON
FORTY-FIVE
“We have to stop in here,” I tell Josie, my grip on her hand tightening as we come to a stop in front of a bookstore.
It sits tucked along the sidewalk of the busy street in the heart of the Hamptons, its white brick glowing under the afternoon sun.
The storefront invites you in. It’s got the coastal charm that many stores around here have, but it also isn’t trying too hard either.
The blue letters above the window read Blue Harbor Books.
I glance from the sign to Josie, finding her already smiling.
I take in that soft, slightly bashful smile she gets when attention shifts to her. I’ve loved seeing it more and more in the weeks we’ve spent together since we first met. “We don’t have to go in there,” she mutters, her gaze dropping to her feet for a moment.
I can’t help but laugh as I squeeze her hand again. “Sure we do. We have to see if we can find your books in there. If we do, you have to sign them.”
Her cheeks flush at my words, the pink spreading under the warm sunlight as her hazel eyes find mine again.
“Let’s just keep walking,” she offers. “We don’t need to go in there to look for my books.”
I take a step closer, not letting her pull away from this. “We’re out celebrating you,” I begin as my hand finds the side of her face. “The fact that after over a month of working on it, you’re finally almost done reworking your manuscript? That’s a big deal, Josie.”
She presses her lips together like she’s trying to fight a smile. “I’m not done yet, so we don’t need to get ahead of ourselves. Plus, what if my books aren’t even in there?
“Then we still go in,” I counter. “And if we’re lucky—” I lean in slightly, my mouth brushing against her ear. “—maybe we’ll find a quiet corner and give you some more inspiration.”
Josie laughs as she slides her arms around my middle and steps into me for a hug. “You’ve given me plenty of inspiration recently,” she mutters.
Something inside my chest squeezes. It isn’t just pride; it’s something far deeper than that.
Because this may have started with me giving her something real to write about, but now, it’s so much more. The feelings are real—so real—and even after her book is done, I don’t plan on going anywhere.
“It’s still not enough,” I tell her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Come on,” I offer as my gaze meets hers again. I grab her hand and bring it to my lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Let’s go see if my favorite author made the cut for Blue Harbor Books.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her beautiful mouth as I pull her toward the door.
The bell above it chimes softly as we step inside.
I look around and take it in. The air inside is cool, and there’s a faint scent of paper and coffee.
My eyes travel over the space, scanning rows of neatly arranged shelves and tables as the sunlight filters through the large windows at the front of the store.
I glance over at Josie, finding her scanning the place with a look of wonder. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a soft smile on her lips as she takes it all in.
I squeeze her hand, catching her attention.
Her eyes meet mine as her thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “I just love places like this.”
I smile at the joy on her face, and I have to fight the urge to tell her how much I love just being wherever she is.
“So,” I begin, glancing around the bookstore. It’s pretty empty in here, besides an older man sitting at a checkout counter at the corner of the store…who might actually be asleep. “Where do you think your books would be?”
This makes her laugh. “They could be anywhere, but we’ll try looking for a romance section.” She lets go of my hand before walking away, and immediately, I miss her touch.
She moves through one of the aisles, her fingers trailing lightly along the spines of the books as she walks.
I follow a step behind her, watching her—admiring her.
Josie fits here in this coastal bookstore. She seems to be right at home as she looks around, taking us deeper into the shelves.
She pauses all of a sudden. Her hand stills, and then she lets out a small, disbelieving gasp.
I quickly step beside her, bringing my body close to hers as I follow her gaze.
There it is. Her name. Right there on the shelf.
“See?” I mutter, looking at the line of spines with her name on them.
She doesn’t say anything right away. She just stares at her own books on a shelf here at a small bookstore in the Hamptons. She’s quiet, like she’s trying to take it in.
Finally, her gaze finds mine. I swear her eyes are a little wider and brighter now. “I always forget what it feels like,” she admits.
“What?” I ask, my hand finding the small of her back.
“Seeing my books out in the world. Sometimes I just forget what it feels like to remember these stories aren’t just mine anymore.”
I reach out, grabbing one of the copies from the shelf and holding it out to her. “Now you have to start signing.”
Her eyes flick to mine. “Tyson, I don’t know…” She bites her lip, like she’s anxious about signing the books that she’s written.
“Sign it,” I repeat, keeping my tone gentle. “For the person who’s going to pick this up and fall in love with your words.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to add on to my statement. To tell her that I’m falling for her. But I keep my thoughts to myself, not wanting to scare her away.
Josie hesitates for a moment before she reaches inside her purse and brings out a pen. Her fingers brush against mine as she takes the book from me.
I watch in wonder as she signs each copy and puts them back on the shelf. Sometimes it still hits me just how talented she is. It’s crazy that she’s written books—multiple books—and we can just find them on the shelves of a bookstore we happened upon while taking an afternoon walk.
“There,” Josie says as she slides the last signed book onto the shelf. “Are you happy now?”
I nod as I pull her body into mine. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”
This makes her face soften and her lips turn into a radiant smile. “You say the most perfect things.”
I take a step back with my arms still wrapped around her, bringing her with me until we’re hidden between two large bookshelves filled to the brim.
“Because you’re perfect,” I respond as I gently press her against the shelf, caging her body in with mine.
Josie rolls her eyes as her hands find my chest. She doesn’t respond to my comment, but she doesn’t need to. The smile on her lips at my words is all I need.
Slowly, I lean in, my hands finding her waist as my lips press to her neck. I begin to kiss a line along her collarbone.
“Ty,” she whispers, but there’s no real warning in her voice. If anything, there’s a hint of breathlessness—maybe even a bit of encouragement.
My lips curve slightly against her as I continue to kiss along her sensitive skin. Her fingers tighten around the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me into her, something I don’t even realize she’s doing.
“We’re in a bookstore,” she mutters, her voice soft as she moves her neck to the side to give me more access.
“Mm-hmm,” I hum against her neck. “I did notice that.”
“What are you doing?”
I slide my hand underneath the fabric of her gauzy shirt, loving feeling her skin underneath my fingertips. “Inspiring you,” I answer easily.
“Someone could see us.”
My gaze meets hers, finding her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted. Her eyes flick toward the end of the aisle like she’s checking for someone, but she isn’t stopping anything either.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She looks back at me, her fingers curling tighter around the fabric of my shirt as she keeps me close to her. “No,” she admits, her voice soft.
This time, my mouth lands on hers. We make out against the shelves like we have all the time in the world.
It feels like we do.
She spent the morning writing while I sat in her kitchen working as well.
Lately, I’ve been using every spare second I can find to look into the books for Bishop-Moore Hotels, trying to find out if there’s any merit to my father’s threats.
I don’t want to give in and pay him, but I also don’t want his past mistakes to come back and haunt all the progress we’ve made either.
Josie and I have fallen into a routine together where, even when working, we’re spending time together.
We’re in close proximity to one another, but doing our own thing.
We wake up next to each other and then start our mornings with breakfast and coffee.
We work, we eat lunch, we get some more work done before finding something to do in the afternoon here in the Hamptons.
Sometimes it’s going to Pembroke; other times, like today, it’s exploring the town.
But we’ve fallen into this routine where it’s familiar and easy.
I never feel like I have to rush things because I know, even when this book is done, I’ll get to see her.
I don’t know how long we stand against the shelves kissing, but it’s perfect. The store is quiet around us, but still, at any moment, someone could walk around the corner and find us.
Josie’s hands slide up my chest and into my hair. They pull on the longer strands on the top as she melts into the kiss, making me forget where we are entirely.
I tighten my hands around her waist, my fingertips digging into her skin as I press her even harder against the shelf behind her. The books shift slightly at the pressure.
She lets out a soft sigh against my mouth. “Ty,” she whispers.
I pull back just enough to rest my forehead against hers, both of us attempting to catch our breath.
“We should maybe get home,” she mutters.
“Yeah,” I agree, my entire body feeling hot with need for her.
Neither one of us moves.
Her lips brush against mine this time, soft and sure, like she can’t help herself.
I pull my mouth from hers. “Come on,” I say, keeping my voice low. “We’ve got to go before I forget we’re in public.”
She laughs as I take her hand, threading our fingers together as I lead her out of the store and back to the house…where we can finish what we started in between the shelves.