Cassidy
Flipping the switch, the Christmas tree in my window lit up, brightening the whole shop.
It was still early in the morning, which meant every inch of this corner was twinkling with multicolored lights.
It was gorgeous. I still had to add some garland and ornaments, but there was so much to do this morning that it would have to wait until things slowed down.
I limped over to my newest arrival of books and slid the box cutter through the tape, my whole heart lighting up when I saw the brand new covers. It was always like Christmas around here, even if I didn’t get to keep every title that entered my shop.
A knock on the door drew my attention away from the books, and as I hobbled across the store, I beamed at what waited for me on the other side.
Fresh java.
I really needed my fix this morning. Not because I couldn’t function without coffee, but because it was so delicious and sounded so good on this cold morning.
Flipping the lock, I beamed at Alyssa. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Move! It’s freezing out here,” she shivered, hustling inside.
Hurrying over to the counter, she started removing layer after layer, setting them all on top of my paperwork instead of on the coat rack neatly situated next to the door.
“You know, I have a place for that.”
“Hush up. My limbs are barely working.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee and sighed. “I don’t know why I chose to live here.”
“Because JR is here, and you didn’t want to leave him,” I pointed out.
“It has been good for me. I haven’t dated a single man.”
I didn’t know her whole backstory, but I gleaned enough from the bruises on her face when she arrived in town over a year ago.
“You could always get a car.”
She snorted, walking over to the open box. “And go where? I can walk pretty much everywhere in town.”
“I did offer to pick you up.”
“I know, but I like walking.” She snatched the top book, her eyes bright. “Ooh, this looks good.”
Hovering over her shoulder, I stared at the sexy man on the cover. “Yeah, it has nothing to do with the lumberjack and everything to do with the words inside,” I retorted.
“So, what do you need me to do?”
I was just about to open another box when I froze. “You were serious about helping?”
“Of course. It’s not like I have anything else to do. Besides, you let me hang out and read anything I want all day long. The least I can do is help out when you get a new shipment in.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Positive. Just give me a minute to warm up my fingers and toes.”
Despite the warm atmosphere of the twinkling lights, there was no way to work efficiently in the dark. I flipped on the overhead lights and got to work opening boxes, directing Alyssa where to put them.
As she carried them around the store, I scanned the barcodes into the system, easily updating the inventory. A year ago, I would have been manually entering each title, the ISBN, the inventory, and everything else that went with it. The upgrade was a lifesaver.
“Ooh, Jack the Ripper.” Alyssa’s eyes went wide as she read the back blurb.
“I had no idea you were so interested in murderers.”
“Fascinated,” she corrected. “And it’s not so much that I’m interested in him as who he was. There are so many theories, and I feel like if I don’t find out who he really is before I die, then I’m definitely missing out on something.”
“Well, maybe you’ll meet him in the afterlife,” I teased.
“I don’t plan on going to hell.”
As she gathered up the books and hauled them over to the non-fiction section, I snatched the next group of books. This particular cover caught my eye, and I found myself reading the blurb instead of getting to work.
I wasn’t usually a heavy romance reader, but lately, I found my vibrator getting more of a workout than it usually needed. It had been way too long since I’d had a man between my thighs.
And unfortunately, the last really good lay I’d had was back in high school when I was dating Jeff.
“That’s a good one,” Alyssa smirked, taking it from me. “I read it a week ago. Looking for something new to read?”
She shot me a knowing look that had me blushing all the way to my toes.
“I’m a bookstore owner. I take an interest in everything in my shop.”
“Including the baking section?”
“Especially the baking section. I may not be much of a cook, but I love to make pies and cupcakes.”
“Then where have all these fabulous treats been? You might attract more customers if you have them out.”
“I might also attract every hungry man walking down the street, but that doesn’t equate to more sales.”
She wiggled the book in my face, bringing it back to the forefront of the conversation. “So, have a thing for guys on motorcycles?”
I tried to snatch it out of her hands, but she held it out of reach. “Excuse me, but I’m trying to work.”
“And I’m trying to get to the bottom of your sexual preferences. Is it the motorcycle? The tattoos?” She looked at the cover again and grinned. “That sexy trail of hair leading down to his—”
“Would you stop?” I interrupted, snatching it out of her hands as my face turned as bright as a tomato. “Just because I was looking at the cover doesn’t mean that I have a thing for…him.”
It would have been more convincing if I could stop staring at the man, but there wasn’t a thing about him that wasn’t utterly appealing. Even his shaggy hair got to me. And I normally liked men with short hair.
God, I really needed to get laid.
“And there’s that look again,” she smirked. “Oh, I’ve seen it before. Not on you, but in the mirror every time I think I’m in love. Personally, I have a thing for bad boys.”
Sighing, she grabbed another book, staring at that one with love in her eyes. “They get me in a lot of trouble. The next man I meet will have no tattoos, no beard, he’ll have a beer gut, and he’ll pray hard to Jesus every day.”
I thought of her description as a smile played on my lips. “So, you’ve narrowed your search to Church Street.”
“Oh, you’re so funny,” she mocked.
“Well, think about it. There aren’t many men in town like that. Unless, of course, you wanted to go after some of the older gentlemen. Bud does have a beer gut, but he doesn’t have any tattoos.”
“Not true. He has a military tattoo on his right bicep. And he does that rolled t-shirt thing to hold his smokes, which is totally hot, by the way.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just call Bud hot.”
“Not him, but the t-shirt thing. He reminds me of James Dean, if James Dean were an old man.”
I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “Yes, if only we could all find ourselves a James Dean lookalike.”
“You already found yours. I mean, he doesn’t look a thing like James Dean, and he doesn’t smoke, from what I’ve seen, but he definitely looks at you like someone he wants to devour.”
Again, my face flushed bright red, so I grabbed some books and pretended I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Who’s that?”
“Um, Mr. Hottie who saved your life yesterday? The blue-eyed devil? Joe Boxer!”
“Is he a boxer? I hadn’t noticed.”
She picked up a hardback and smacked me on the arm. “You so did notice. I saw the way you were staring at him. Trust me, he was just as interested.”
“He was interested in how I managed to get myself tangled up in Christmas lights, and nothing more.”
“Yeah, I totally got that vibe from the way he was staring at you.”
“Well, he was staring at me because I was a complete mess. Did you see my hair after I fell off the roof?”
“You mean the cute braids that hung perfectly on either side of your head under that adorable hat? Yeah, I noticed, and so did he,” she mocked.
“You know, not everything in life is about men,” I said in frustration, stalking away from her.
“This is why I don’t read romance. It’s unbelievable.
No man could ever be as good as romance novels portray them.
I mean, men do not smell good when they sweat.
It’s gross and makes any sane woman run in the other direction.
Yet, in a romance novel, the woman is overcome with his musky scent and must have him. It’s ridiculous!”
“Uh-huh. Tell me more,” she grinned.
“And what’s all this stuff about immaculately dressed men? When have you ever seen a man like that?”
“Well, Ryder is pretty well dressed.”
I huffed in irritation. “Okay, that’s one man. And he’s from New York, so that doesn’t count.”
“Actually, he grew up here.”
“Are you trying to be argumentative?” I snapped.
The wide grin on her face only pissed me off. “Nope. Just pointing out the obvious.”
“And all the tattoos. You show me one man who has tattoos like on this cover, who doesn’t have a beer belly and a gnarly beard that has food stuck in it!”
“Ryder, Archer, Liam, Michael, Maverick—”
“I said one!” I shouted, cutting her off before she could name the one man with sexy blue eyes that I couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Look, all I’m trying to say is that romance novels depict these men in unrealistic ways. There is no man out there who will make me fall to my knees or be that good in bed that I’ll never want to leave him. It’s just not going to happen!”
She bit her lip, holding back her laughter.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just that a sexy man with a trimmed beard, tattoos covering his body, built like a machine, and amazing blue eyes happens to be outside your shop right now.”
Mortified, I spun around only to find no one there.
“You lied,” I seethed.
She gathered an armful of books, laughing at me. “Yeah, but you should have seen your face.”