Page 47 of The Bookbinder's Guide to Love

“Me either. I’m starving. Want takeout?”

They ordered from the one place in town that delivered.

“How did you not end up becoming an attorney like your dad and brother?” she asked.

“Uh, well, actually, that’s tied to Grandpa,” he said as he finished adding wood to the fire in the large stone fireplace. She’d grabbed some pillows from the couch and together they’d set up a picnic in front of it.

She was drinking merlot since that was the only wine in the house, and Wes opted for one of the beers he’d stocked in the fridge. Their dinner arrived—a chicken burger for her, a veggie burger for him. And a large order of fries to share.

“I want to hear about that, but I’m sort of grossed out by your mayo-and-ketchup combo.”

“This is very continental and sophisticated. I’m offended by those plain fries of yours.”

She shook her head at his silliness. It was as if when she’d said she’d stay, something had relaxed in him. But at the same time, she could tell he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. There was a lot to unpack when it came to Wes. Something that was making her delve into memories and dreams she’d shunted to the side. Perhaps it wasn’t Wes’s doing but just Ford’s death. Otherwise, it would mean she was getting way too attached to him.

“So you’re not an attorney because...”

“Oh yeah, well, it doesn’t make me look great, but I figure you know I’m not perfect,” he said, taking a big bite of his veggie burger.

She took a sip of her merlot and watched him. Her stomach felt like she’d just drunk seltzer water, all fizzy and excited from looking at him. Trying very hard not to realize that she was living out what was her romantic fantasy with Wes. She started to caution herself and then stopped.

She was the leading lady here. If Wes was what she wanted, she could have him. She wasn’t going into anything with half measures. And as afraid as she was to trust anyone, she’d said yes to staying. So she needed to give this everything.

“You’re right about that,” she said. “But parts of you are all right.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said with sarcasm.

“You’re diverting,” she pointed out.

“I am. So when I went to college,” he started, and then stopped. “It was like I’d been frozen for all my life. But at college no one knew about my parents’ divorce and me being a twin and all that shit. I was just Wes.”

In a way, it had been the same for her. But she’d also been scared because she’d truly been on her own for the first time. Tawdra had been nice and offered to let her stay until the state needed her to care for another underage kid. There was no social worker to contact if things went wrong once she left. She’d had to stand on her own.

She’d lost touch with Tawdra after college, but when the whole Amber Rapp thing happened, Tawdra had come up to Birch Lake and told Sera how proud she was of everything she had accomplished.

It had been nice in a way. But Sera had still felt alone. Had Wes felt like that? After having seen the Sitwells in action, she believed her situation might have been better.

“And how did Just Wes handle it?” she asked.

“Drinking, partying, flunking out of classes my dad was paying for,” he said. “I was one semester in and then got dropped from most of the classes. Dad stopped paying for everything. I was good in the dorm for the rest of the semester, but Dad was pissed. So I couldn’t go home.”

He leaned back against the pillows and took a long swig of his beer. “That sobered me up real quick. I only had one other place to go—here. So I showed up and told Grandpa what happened. He offered to let me stay if I worked for him. He had been repairing books since he’d retired, and that’s when he taught me.”

“What did he do before he retired?”

“Tax attorney. We’re not ones for breaking tradition.”

“Except you,” she pointed out. “You did, right?”

He turned his head to look at her, and as their eyes met, a thrill went through her. “Yup. Now you know how I avoided being a tax attorney.”

“Such an exciting tale.”

“I mean, I know when you looked at the nerdy book guy—”

“Hey, book people aren’t nerdy.”

He shifted over and touched a strand of her hair, tugging on it in a playful way. “Hate to break it to you, but everyone who’s not into books thinks we are nerdy.”

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