7. Lily
Chapter 7
Lily
W hat makes the perfect first kiss?
As I moved around the bookstore, thinking back over that kiss with Ethan yet again, I found myself wondering if the kiss had been better than “better than fine.” If it had, in fact, been “perfect.”
There were all kinds of first kisses out there, but when I looked back on the millions of romance novels I’d read, a few things stood out.
Firstly, it should be forbidden. Not necessarily explicitly forbidden—although that definitely helps. There should be something about the kiss that makes a tiny part of you curl up with worry and think, “Uh oh. These two should not be doing that.”
Secondly, it should be unexpected, but completely natural. When it happens, you want it to take you by surprise, but you also need to think, “Well, obviously these two are kissing!”
Third, it has to be hot. I’m talking tongues. I’m talking hands. I’m talking rainstorms, power outages, near-death experiences, lusty tussles, and, of course, a lot of dirty moans and trembling whimpers.
I swallowed, trying to focus. It wasn’t normal for me to get all hot and bothered first thing in the morning. Then again, this was the first time I’d put together an “Unforgettable First Kisses” display table in the store. I took a copy of The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang and placed it face out on an acrylic stand. That was a good first kiss, but it could have been a little spicier for my taste.
Like the way Ethan had kissed me.
Over the past few days, ever since he’d kissed his way into my dreams, that moment had been playing in my head like a dirty video stuck on loop.
Ethan’s confidence had taken me by surprise. He knew what he wanted, and it had been like he knew what I wanted, too. I mean, I’d made it obvious.
Gosh, you’re so much more muscly than Vlad.
I hadn’t meant to say those words, but it just felt so solid and good in his arms. So sexy. It ignited something in me that I hadn’t felt in a long while, actually: pure, animal attraction. I mean sure, I was quick to fall for people. To fall in love with the image of someone I had in my mind. To fall in love with the romance of it. But that moment with Ethan? It wasn’t based on love or romance or a carefully constructed fantasy of my own making. It was based on his big biceps and his manly scent and his hard . . . area . . . that kept pressing into my stomach and making me quite literally drip with desire.
I bit my lip as I grabbed a copy of The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. Now that was an iconic first kiss. A summer storm during a canoe ride. Reconnecting after years apart. Two souls finally admitting the endurance of past love. I sighed thinking about it.
Just then, the bell above the door chimed.
Ethan?
No. I glanced up to see Ida McCoy strolling in with Ava in tow. My cheeks colored a little.
“Welcome!” I said, hastily checking my blouse buttons were all done up for some reason, as though I had been caught in the act of undressing in the middle of my store in broad daylight.
Get it together, Lily.
Ida was the older sister of the McCoy triplets. She was in her late thirties and had a bright and cheery disposition in spite of being through some pretty horrible stuff. She got ovarian cancer a few years ago and thankfully recovered, but was told she’d never be able to have kids. Her fiancé couldn’t handle that and left her, and she had never seemed willing to take a chance on anyone else. She did enjoy reading my romance novels from time to time, though, and I always enjoyed picking out something spicy for her. She had a thing for bad boys.
Today, she wore a duck-egg blue dress and had her chestnut hair scraped back in a loose ponytail. Ava, meanwhile, wore a bright purple backpack and a thoughtful expression.
“Morning.” Ida spied what I was working on. “Unforgettable first kisses, eh?”
“R-right,” I said, eyes darting to Ava. “The kind of kiss that locks you into the book, so you know you have to read it all the way to the end.”
“Sounds right up my alley. Any with bikers?”
“One or two,” I said, guiding her to the novels in question.
“How are you doing today, Ava?” I asked.
“Okay, thank you,” Ava replied quietly. “My auntie’s looking after me while Dad works on a fancy car.”
More guilt.
“That sounds good.”
“So anyway,” said Ida, “I’m here to buy ten romance novels. I just need to decide if I want ten first kisses, or five first kisses and five extremely rough and ready mafia bad boys.”
“What’s a mafia?” asked Ava.
“Nothing,” blurted Ida. “Just a very bad group of people who Auntie Ida is not at all supportive of.” She winced at me, blushing a little.
“So,” I said. “Ten books, you say? That’s a coincidence. Connie came in here for ten books the other day, too. A certain pregnant baker wouldn’t have anything to do with this sudden desire for ten books, I take it?”
God damn it, Elara, you lovely idiot.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ida’s eyes danced with poorly concealed amusement.
“You know you don’t have to buy a bunch of books just to help m—”
“It’s not to help you! I’ve been meaning to stock up for a while now. I have a voracious appetite in the summer.”
“As long as you actually want to buy them. Do you want some recommendations?”
“No. I’ll browse. It’s been a while since I’ve spent time in a bookstore.” Ida rubbed her palms together. “I’m going to enjoy myself.”
“Ava,” I said, bending down a little, “would you like to have a look at our kid’s section?”
“You have a kid’s section?” Ida was surprised.
“Yup. We have books for kids that include romantic elements. Come on, I’ll show you.”
As I led the quiet eight-year-old through the store, I couldn’t help but notice how much she resembled Ethan. Those same thoughtful blue eyes, that same dark hair—though hers wasn’t threaded with silver like her dad’s, of course.
“So, what kind of books do you like to read?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Me too! I like all kinds.”
Ava stayed quiet for a moment. “I just don’t like to read, I guess.”
“Really? How come?”
“I don’t know. Everyone else finds it so easy. I’m dumb at it, I guess.”
I felt a pang in my chest and crouched down to her level. “You know, when I was a kid, I struggled with reading, too. Still do sometimes.”
“But you own a bookstore!”
I smiled. “I have dyslexia. Means my brain works a little bit differently. It’s special.”
“You’ve got a special brain?”
“That’s right.” I thought back to how the doctor had explained it to me. “Imagine your brain is like a big library. Inside every book is a word, and every time you read, your brain has to look up the right book.”
Ava nodded slowly. “That’s lots of books.”
“Yeah, an absolute ton. In most people’s brains, the books are well-organized. But in my brain, and some other people’s brains, the books are all mixed up. My brain finds the right book eventually, but it takes longer.”
“So, what does it feel like when you try to read?”
“Sometimes it feels like the words are dancing on the page. Or like some of the letters vanish and pop back. I used to struggle at school because it was so hard.”
“And you still like reading?”
“Love it. It’s easier for me now, and I have some tricks to help.”
“Tricks? Like magic tricks?”
“No, like colored strips I read through that make the letters behave better.”
Ava paused for a moment, then, in a tiny voice, said, “Sometimes the letters dance around for me, too.”
I nodded slowly. “Is that so?”
“Does that mean I’ve got something wrong with me, too?”
“Oh, sweetie, no,” I said quickly. “Being dyslexic—if that’s what you are—just means you’re different. Not worse. It can have its advantages, too. Dyslexic people are often very creative and amazing storytellers.”
“Really?”
“You bet!” I put on my most dramatic voice, “Once upon a time, there was a super smart kid who found reading tricky. But! She had superpowers!”
Ava giggled.
“By day, she was a mild-mannered school kid. By night, an ass-kicking, crime-fighting, jujitsu expert!” I acted out a karate chop.
“How do you know I do jujitsu?”
“Elara,” I explained with a smile. “She talks about you, Rhea, and Lexi all the time.” I put a finger to my lips as an idea hit me. “Have you ever tried audiobooks?”
She shook her head.
“I could talk to your dad and give him some suggestions if you’d like.”
Her face tightened. “Does Dad have to know?”
“He won’t be upset.”
She sighed. “I know, but he’s one of the only people who doesn’t think I’m dumb. I don’t want him knowing I have trouble reading.”
My heart ached for her. “I promise you your dad will never think you’re dumb. And being honest with him is the quickest way to make things better. I speak from experience.”
Ava huffed, looked straight up at the ceiling, then said, reluctantly, “Fine. You can tell him. And you can tell him about the audiobooks.”
“Awesome!” I held out a hand. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”
The feeling of her small hand slapping mine in a high-five was indescribably satisfying.
Just then, Ida arrived, arms laden with books. “Okay, so it turns out, I am going to need your help because I’ve picked out way more than ten books.”
***
I was nervous about meeting with Ethan again—of course I was. I’d barely recovered from the last time.
But I had to go see him. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Ava all day long.
Seeing her standing in front of me, looking down at her shoes, nervous and ashamed, it all felt so familiar. Then, when I’d told her my story, the relief in her eyes had been wonderful to see. I could have probably gotten Ethan’s number from Elara, but I figured that news like this was best delivered in person.
Plus, there was no harm in seeing him again, right?
It would be easy. I’d say a few words, give him my recommendations, and then leave. I wouldn’t flirt, that was the key.
Ugh, but flirting was so much fun.
After trying on about twenty different outfits, I finally settled on a flowing, white maxi dress with a deep V-neck and loose, billowy sleeves. I cinched in the waist with a tan leather belt with intricate beadwork and wore a stack of colorful bracelets on one wrist and a pair of large gold hoop earrings that I hoped brought out the sparkle in my eyes. On my feet, I wore a pair of brown gladiator sandals, their straps winding elegantly up my calves. Obviously, the point of this outfit wasn’t to look sexy. Oh no, it was to look innocent . Like I was the kind of woman who was coming to Ethan’s door for completely non-devious motives. Which, of course, I was.
Heart pounding, I walked to his house. He lived in a dreamy home on a bluff above the town. It was angular, gray, and serious, but also brooding and wild—oddly romantic in a way that reminded me of Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights . I walked up the path to the steel-gray front door, each step feeling like a mile. Raising my hand, I knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet evening air.
The door swung open, and there he was. To my surprise, he was wearing a full firefighter’s outfit. His dark hair, usually tousled and free, was hidden under the helmet. His muscular frame was encased in a bright yellow jacket. “Lily?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat. My gaze drifted to his lips, memories of our kiss flooding back. The way his mouth had moved against mine, the taste of him, the feel of his stubble beneath my fingertips. . . .
Ethan’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Is everything okay?”
“You’re dressed as a firefighter,” I blurted out.
He clenched his jaw. “I’m aware. My gear came and Ava insisted on a fashion show.”
“You sure you’re not just wearing it alone for kicks?”
“You here to tease me about my dress sense?”
I shook my head. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean . . .” I took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you about Ava.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed, concern etched across his handsome features. Then, quietly, he said, “I meant what I said the other day—I think it’s for the be—”
“That’s not what this is about. Today, Ava and Ida came into the bookstore. While Ida was hunting down about a gazillion romance novels, I got chatting to Ava. She mentioned a few things to me.”
As I relayed our discussion, Ethan’s expression became more and more grim, until it almost looked as though he was in pain.
“I think Ava might have dyslexia,” I said eventually. “The way she reacts to reading, the reluctance, the avoidance . . . it’s all so similar to what I went through as a kid.”
Ethan took off the helmet and ran a hand through his hair. “How the hell did I miss this?”
“It’s not always easy to spot. Smart kids will do everything they can to hide it. Lord knows I did.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry?”
“Sorry you had to hide it.”
I felt a kick of adrenaline. It felt so strange that he was apologizing to me.
“Thank you. I might be wrong about this. I’d get the school to test Ava. That’s the only way to be sure. And once she has a diagnosis, if she is dyslexic, then there’s funding and help available.”
“Shit. Right. Thank you, Lily. This is a lot. I feel like a total failure.”
“Well, you’re not. No one’s done anything wrong here.”
“You know,” he said, speaking with sudden passion, “sometimes I forget I’m a single parent. Does that sound crazy? I’m so used to it. I forget that things are harder this way. Because—damn, I suck at talking—it feels so normal to me. Then something like this happens and I realize how majorly I’ve dropped the fucking ball and it’s like, no, this is not normal.”
“It must be so hard.”
“I’ve noticed her struggling,” he admitted. “But I guess I chalked it up to her just being a perfectionist, you know? Like she was scared of letting people see her rough edges.”
I swallowed and nodded, trying not to think about Ethan’s rough edges.
For a moment, I swear, his eyes flicked up and down my body. “Lily, I might live to regret this, but . . . would you still be interested in the nanny position?”
My heart leaped into my throat, and I had to bite back a grin. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Are you sure?”
“Getting less sure by the second.”
“Wait! Don’t let any more seconds pass.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of power.”
I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer, bouncing on my toes and clapping my hands together. “Oh, Ethan, thank you! I promise I’ll do everything I can to support Ava and create a nurturing environment for her.”
His expression sobered slightly, and he took a step back, his gaze intense. Maybe he was worried about me throwing my arms around him again. “There’s just one thing, Lily. We need to keep things professional between us. I know . . . something happened—”
“We kissed.”
“Yes,” he said, pulling the door shut behind him. “We did. I admit, there was an attraction. It was an emotional moment.”
“Very emotional.”
He ignored me. “But with you working for me, caring for my daughter, we have to set some boundaries.”
I nodded, my cheeks heating under his scrutiny. “Of course, I understand. We can’t let our personal feelings interfere with Ava’s well-being or our working relationship.”
“There are no personal feelings from this moment forward.”
“Right. Totally without feelings. Like one of those dead fish you mentioned.”
“Right. Dead fish mode. We’ll need to establish some ground rules, make sure we’re on the same page.”
“I simply love rules. Who doesn’t? Nanny Lily one-hundred-percent loves rules.”
He quirked a brow. “Nanny Lily?”
“Right. That’s my title now, isn’t it?”
“You gonna wear a Mary Poppins costume?”
Okay, this was flirting. This was definitely flirting.
“Says the man cosplaying as a firefighter.”
“Hey, this isn’t cosplay, I’m an actual firefighter.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. His very strong, rock-hard chest. The chest I’d been pushed up against just a few days ago. Ethan crossed his arms, “Look, before I change my mind, why don’t you tell me when you can start.”
“Now?”
“Now is a bit soon. Tomorrow could work, though. Why don’t you drop your stuff around sometime during the day and then hang out with Ava in the evening? Have a practice run while I’m around?”
“Great, I’ll bring my stuff.”
“Do you want to see the room you’ll be staying in first?”
“Does it have a bed and a window?”
“Yup.”
“Then I’m down.”
“Right. Tomorrow, then.”
Ethan’s gaze met mine, and the intensity in his blue eyes made my breath catch. He reached out, as though to take my arm, but at the last moment, he held back. Although we didn’t touch, I felt something pass between us. “Thank you, Lily. For noticing, for caring. It means more than you know.”
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat spreading through me. “Of course.”
Oh, he was handsome. Oh, he was charismatic.
Oh, I was fucked.
Luckily I had sworn off men. Otherwise, I might be in real, real trouble.