Page 45 of The First Spark

What the fuck is wrong with me? Now I can’t hold up my end of a basic conversation with a woman Idon’twant to sleep with?

“Well, not yet, but she’s agreed to the idea. I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time, so I want to dive in right away. Why wait, right?”

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with. It’s going to be so much fun.” Mina hands me a cup of coffee and motions to the far side of the store. “Grab a seat and I’ll look. See what I can find.”

I relax into a buttery soft leather armchair and take a swig of the coffee.

Braden was right. Best damn coffee in town.

A few customers mill around the store, browsing theracks of books, while soft jazz flows out of the speakers and a fire crackles warmly from the stove in the reading nook.

I get it now. There is a comfort and warmth within these walls, a haven from the busy and often blustery world.

Then again, knowing the owner, I’m not surprised.

Oriana Thorne is a glowing fire after a hard day.

Once again, I’m thinking about her.

I grab a hardcover off the table and peruse the pages. It’s about local legends, and trust me, there are tons of ghost stories in these mountains.

I should know. My life is one of them, and not because of encounters with the spirit world.

My ghost prefers a different type of haunting, taking up residence in my soul and ensuring no one else stands a chance.

Her name is Lucille, and her presence is everywhere, permeating all the layers of my heart and reminding me what happens when you dare to love someone that much.

After she ripped my world apart ten years ago, I mired in self-loathing for a while, until my friends grabbed me by the collar and talked some sense into me.

They reminded me of her flawed character and questionable past, all things I overlooked because of my hopeless adoration.

To them, Lucille was like a bad case of fleas who needed to be shaken off without a second glance. Then, I needed to move on and live my best life—the ultimate payback.

Somehow, I don’t think my morphing into the town player isquitewhat they had in mind.

But I’m happy and I am living my best life.

I don’t need one woman by my side when I have a line of them waiting for their chance.

Variety is the spice of life, right?

Plus, when you don’t get attached emotionally, you’re safe. Getting your heart smashed is not something I recommend, especially not when it can be just as easily avoided.

Lucille ripped my soul to shreds and no matter how much I’d love to forget that massacre, it’s burned into my brain.

Etched like a tattoo, a permanent reminder of that one time, I led with my heart and left a fool.

I’ll never tread that path again. Not for any woman.

Mina perches on the couch across from me, placing several books on the oak coffee table. “We don’t have anything specific to speakeasies, but I’m sure we can order something. These books delve into the ’20s as a whole, covering everything from architecture to Prohibition. Maybe you can glean something from them.”

“This is a good start. Thanks.” I flip through the pages of one book, chancing a few glances toward the back of the store.

I know Ori’s office is back there, which meansshe’slikely back there. Avoiding me.

I fucking hate that idea.

Mina returns with a laptop in her arms and shows me the screen. “Check this out. It covers Art Deco design, and the lost art of the speakeasy.”

---