Page 85 of Reckless

“Well, there are far better authors out there. I could show you.” She beams out another smile, attempting to flirt with me.

Krista stops behind her and arches her brow at me.

“I think she is an amazing author.” I focus back on the woman. “In fact, I’d say after reading that part of the book, she is going to be my favorite author.”

“Come on. You can’t know that from reading one chapter.”

Krista's brow arches higher. Her lips twitch, she enjoys knowing I just read part of her book. At least that makes this next part easier.

Glancing about, I spot a stand holding baskets. I walk over and grab one, then toss a copy of every one of her books into it. Krista is visibly laughing now.

I’d give anything for her to walk up and make herself known, but she won’t do that. She’s like me in that regard. People like what they like. Krista will be the first to say not everyone likes her style or wants to read her work. This woman bashing her pisses me off.

The woman is watching in surprise as I heft up the basket.

“Well, that’s great. I mean, I love to see men reading. So, would you maybe want to get a cup of coffee? I can give you some more recommendations.”

Krista makes herself known. “Honey, really? We don’t have any room left for all these books.” She walks right up to my side and gives the woman a tight smile.

“What can I say? I’m addicted.” I look directly into Krista’s eyes. The woman behind vanishes from my existence at Krista’s soft smile.

Not wanting to be a rude fucker, I spare the woman a glance. “Thanks anyway.” I put my arm around Krista and turn us away.

“God, that was mean.” Krista shakes her head.

“It was about to get awkward. Rescuing me was the right thing to do.”

“Well, once she’s gone, you can put the books back.”

“I’m buying them.”

“No you’re not.”

I laugh and tug her towards the registers. “I am.”

“Jude, you don’t need to buy my books. You said yourself you don’t read.”

“You don’t need to buy my music, you don’t sing.”

“That’s different,” she shakes her head.

“Whatever. I’m buying them.”

She has a couple of books in her hand, which I take and drop into the basket with mine, not leaving her much room to argue, as I make my way to the registers and get in line.

“Well, I can give you copies if you really want them,” she continues protesting.

“You don’t have any with you. I plan to read one of them tonight. I’m not taking anything from you for free. You deserve to be paid for your work.”

Her brow puckers. I’m not sure if she is embarrassed or getting irritated. I drop a kiss on her forehead to smooth out the lines. Krista blinks up at me a few times. Then we’re called to the next cashier. And once she sees I’m serious, she stops arguing.

The woman is standing near the doors as we pass by. I don’t make eye contact but feel her watching us all the way out of the store.

After dropping off the books at the car, we head to Lake Harriet and walk around the park. We get ice cream and sit on a bench watching the boats going around on the lake. Krista suggests we try a paddle boat. I’m hesitant, but she can be very convincing when she wants to be.

I’m not a big fan of the water. I live right by the ocean, but it scares the shit out of me. I guess I can manage paddling around a lake. They’re the kind you use your feet to pedal, and seem much sturdier than the sail boats, or even the kayaks that are out on the water already.

It’s a lot of fun and we spend a good hour paddling around, laughing, and enjoying the sun. I’ve never been so relaxed in my life.

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