Page 7 of My Blind Date is a Vampire

My lips twitched of their own volition. That was almost the same argument my mother made whenever she caught me or one of my sisters-in-law reading a novel on an iPad. “Minimalism is all the rage these days, Beverly. Besides, you can carry a countless number of books with you anywhere and everywhere if you use an e-reader instead of lugging about all those heavy hardbacks,” I shot back, my tone light and teasing.

Beverly made a sound of disgust low in her throat and waved me away. “Why don’t you browse through the shelves while I make us some peppermint tea.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I just ate.” I rubbed my stomach awkwardly but stopped when I realized that it looked like I was caressing a food baby and let my hands hang awkwardly by my sides.

“Nonsense. The store’s been rather empty today and I could use a bit of company for a little while. You wouldn’t deny an old woman this small favor, would you, dear?” And with that, I was out for the count. I browsed through the historical romance section, looking for something interesting.

The bookshelves were arranged in a way that didn’t make the open-plan arrangement of the store feel cluttered and let the dying embers of sunlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows bathe everything in a warm glow. Beverly was burning incense next to the cash register, and I spotted another incense stick holder on the coffee table by the reading area near the front door. The scent of lavender and something earthier wafted through the air. Ambient sounds were playing from a hidden speaker, and as I drifted from one shelf to another, I noticed various crystals were placed on shelves and mini landscape paintings of various places in Mystic Cove hung on the walls. The Book Coven felt more like a day spa than a bookshop, but I supposed there were people who thought of a bookstore in that way.

The public library was my refuge when I was younger; there was no feeling like losing yourself in a story and experiencing the wild ride of events with the characters. And, of course, adding more members to my harem of book boyfriends.

“Tea’s ready, love,” Beverly called out. I went back to the counter and put my selection of books down—two Regency romances and a Gothic novel. My love life sucked, but at least I could live vicariously through the heroines of my romance reads.

Beverly was sitting on one of the wicker chairs in the reading nook near the large windows by the front door. A silver tray sat on the coffee table, which laden with a glass teapot full of peppermint tea, two porcelain teacups, and a plate of biscuits.

“I don’t think I got your name, sweetheart. Are you just passing through, or did you come to stay?” Beverly asked, pouring tea for both of us. She was a willowy woman, dressed in a flowing, sleeveless bohemian style dress. Bracelets were wrapped around both her wrists and they clinked against each other any time she moved her hands. Her rose-pink-dyed hair was tied back by a bandana and flowed down her back, almost all the way to her butt in loose waves. I had no idea how she maintained it all. My curls were shoulder-length, a few inches longer when I straightened it, and it was a heck of a job whenever I had to go through a wash and conditioning cycle.

I thought Beverly might have been around my mother’s age, give or take a few years, but she still looked as youthful as the twins. The only signs of aging were the pronounced laugh lines around her eyes and mouth.

“Julia Bryant.” The last time I had to say my name so many times in the span of a few hours was when my professors had everyone introduce themselves during the first semester of my freshman year.

“Oh, yes. Catherine mentioned you. So, you’re the one she brought in to shape the minds of our young ones. I don’t envy the task ahead of you, dear. The youth in this town, spawns of the devil himself.” She shook her head in exasperation rather than frustration. “A beautiful girl with curves like yours and that gorgeous red hair—you don’t really strike me as the scholarly type. What made you go into teaching?”

I nibbled on a biscuit as I thought of an answer and my lips twisted in a sardonic smile when I remembered something one of my brothers said when I announced that I wanted to be a teacher. “Bas—that’s my brother—says it’s because I love to hear the sound of my own voice and love being right.”

“And what’s the real reason?” Beverly prodded. I had to break our eye contact when I started feeling self-conscious due to her intense stare. Beverly had bright hazel eyes and a direct stare that made you think she’d see right through any crap you threw at her.

I shrugged when I couldn’t come up with an answer that would make me sound like a mature adult. “I liked history in school and didn’t want to stop studying it. I considered getting a degree in archaeology, but then I thought how much I used to enjoy my classes and how Mr. Fitzpatrick always appeared to be having so much fun even though there were only, like, three of us actually paying attention. So, why not? I’m great with kids, but I didn’t want to have to deal with a bunch of middle schoolers day in and day out. I’d rather deal with a bunch of sullen teenagers.”

“Is that so?” Beverly hummed, raising her teacup up to her lips. She took a delicate sip and then asked, “You mentioned a brother. Are you close with him and the rest of your family?”

“We are close, even though they put me in a killing frame of mind most of the time. I’m the youngest of four children, the only girl. I guess you could say I’m the runt of the litter. Growing up with three older brothers was a test of patience. Sometimes I’m shocked that I’m still sane after growing up in the same house as them,” I mumbled ruefully, glancing over Beverly’s shoulder to a painting that hung behind the counter of a cute cottage-style home, complete with garden gnomes and everything.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitter or anything. I really love my brothers to bits, but they have this knack of getting on my last nerve and it’s all under the guise of brotherly affection. And then there’s excessive overprotection, as if I am some delicate flower that will wilt if I’m not coddled within a glass dome.”

“I bet you had a terrible dating life in high school.” Beverly smirked, and I let out an inelegant snort.

“That is an understatement if I ever heard one. If there was any boy brave enough to ask me out, you could count on Charlie, Bennett, and Sebastian to make the poor boy run through a gauntlet. It got to the point where I just gave up on dating until I went to college. They once put an ex of mine in the hospital… I mean, the guy deserved it for trying to assault me, but still…”

They almost put my ex-fiancé in hospital too, but I kept that to myself. Toby was still a sore spot for me. One day I would be able to think about him without my heart feeling like it was being crushed under the weight of a hydraulic compress. I didn’t even want to confront my feelings regarding Jess. The two of us had been best friends since we were in middle school. Heck, Jessica was the one who set Toby and me up in the first palace. The image of finding them intertwined on the bed Toby and I shared was forever burned into my eyelids.

A feather-light touch on my hand startled me from the depressing thoughts and I looked away from the cottage painting. I hadn’t been aware that I was still staring at it.

“Where did you go? You were telling me about your family and then you suddenly went quiet and got this pained look on your face. Is everything all right, dear?”

“I’m fine.” I cleared my throat and blinked away the burning sensation in my eyes. Thank goodness they remained dry. How embarrassing would it have been to start bawling in the middle of a bookshop in front of a stranger?

“So, Beverly—”

“Please, call me Bev. All my friends do, and I have a feeling you and I are going to get along famously.” I smiled at that. First Rachel and now Beverly. They were both a far cry from the friends I used to have before I lost them all to Jess, but these women felt a lot more genuine than those traitors.

“Okay, Bev,” I corrected myself. “I heard from Destiny and Dawn that the three of you and Principal Hawthorne are in a book club. I was wondering if maybe you’re open to more members? Or is it a closed club?” Heat crept up my cheeks as I asked the question and my face only burned hotter when Bev started cackling and doubled over clutching at her stomach.

“B-book club? Is that what they told you?” She wheezed, dabbing at the tears trickling down the sides of her eyes. “Unfortunately, it’s nothing as remotely interesting as that, Julia honey. But now that you mention it, it’s almost criminal that I own a successful bookshop and know almost all the locals and I’ve never once thought of starting a book club. But you and I can rectify that, I think.” She winked at me and got up to start clearing the table. “It would also be a good way to meet the rest of the folks living around here. We’ve got more than a few oddballs, to be sure, but you’ll find there’s never a dull moment in Mystic Cove. How long have you been in town? Have you been to any of the local haunts or visited the Drinking Hole? I’m told that’s where all the young folks go to let their hair down. Personally, I prefer a quiet night at home with a nice glass of pinot noir.”

“I’ve only been here two days, but don’t worry, I plan to take full advantage of having the sea only a few minutes from my home, and I already made plans with Rachel from The Eat to grab a drink at the Drinking Hole before the end of the week,” I chirped. I was falling for the charm of Mystic Cove fast, especially the quirky names of their stores and establishments like The Eat and the Drinking Hole. And I found the Victorian architecture of most of the buildings quite fascinating. I’d driven past the museum on the way into town and planned on visiting it in the near future.

“And here I thought I was the first friend you made. But you couldn’t have made a better choice than Rachel Holland. Girl has a wild streak in her, but she’s as loyal as a wolf when she welcomes you into her pack,” Beverly commented dryly with a wry twist of her mouth. She walked behind the counter and deposited the tray by the small kitchenette area and came up to the register to ring up my books.

---