Page 79 of The Bookbinder's Guide to Love

He knew the way she liked to be touched. He’d memorized everything about her. He also knew she liked him to pinch her nipple when she got close to coming, and as he did both she moved faster on him. Her head fell back, those thick, glorious curls falling around her shoulders as her breasts bounced with each thrust. As he enjoyed the view, everything in his body started to tighten and he realized he was going to come before her. He put his arm on her waist and turned, taking her under him, driving into her harder and faster.

Wanting her to go at the same time he did.

He felt his cock getting bigger and knew he was going to come any second. He brought his mouth down on hers, pushing one hand under her ass to get her at the right angle so he could drive her more quickly to climax. And then she tore her mouth from his, crying out his name as her pussy tightened around him and he emptied himself into her until he collapsed against her, supporting his weight with one arm so he didn’t crush her. But he wanted to hold her tightly so they’d always be together.

“I guess you’re not upset I like you too,” he said dryly.

She laughed and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Tinkling like the bells on her front door. His life was never going to be the same after this moment.

He didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing, but it was all thanks to Sera. He cupped her face as he leaned down and gently kissed her because the wordsI love youwere right there on his lips.

He wasn’t sure she was ready to hear them. She was as relationship shy as he was. Liking each other felt like a massive admission on both their parts. But this wasn’t going to be enough. Not for long.

He wanted to make this permanent. Find a way to convince her she should love him too.

Sera couldn’t help smiling over at Wes at various times during the day. The crowds weren’t waning despite the fact that it had been a good two months since Amber Rapp had tied her success to their shop, which Sera was grateful for. But today, even as gloomy as it was, she realized she felt good about her life.

She’d never really let herself sit in that feeling for long. It had always seemed an elusive thing to her—happiness. It wasn’t a priority when keeping her shit together had been what she’d had to do for most of her life. She’d had to be strong for herself, rely only on herself.

But Wes had come in early today to help her out, and not because she’d asked him to. It was one of the few times when anyone had offered unsolicited help. And it was the first time the person was a man.

Greer caught her watching Wes as they came out of the back room with another stack of paper to make more signatures. They came over to her and handed her a journal she’d asked them to bring back for her.

“It’s going to be different around here next week without him,” Greer said.

“It is,” she responded, and Greer moved off as the customer who’d been waiting for the journal Greer had brought up came back over.

Now that they’d admitted they liked each other, was Wes still going to be leaving next week? They needed to have a conversation. She’d have thought that asking him to stay in Birch Lake would be easier now. But her palms started to sweat and her head started to pound again.

She reached down to rub the stone next to the register, but it wasn’t as calming as before. Probably because she knew it hadn’t been recharged last night.

The afternoon wore on and Wes went to grab lunch for all of them from the deli on Main Street while Greer was in the back, video-chatting with their mom.

Foot traffic in the shop was slow, and when the door opened, she was surprised to see Wes’s dad walk in.

“Hello, Benjamin. Nice to see you again. Are you here for Wes?” she asked.

“No, I saw my son last night. I just wanted to check out your shop. What is it you do here? My client mentioned you were a witch.”

“Some people think that, but no, I’m not.”

“Why do they think that?” he asked.

She wasn’t sure where he was going with this line of questions. “Probably because of the vibe of the shop and the fact that I sell journals with intentions bound into them. Not everyone understands the difference.”

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. In that moment, despite the fact that he and Wes had different coloring, she saw the resemblance between them.

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Well, let me show you,” she said, leading him over to the workbench where she had some journals set aside for the next day. She pulled the journal to her, and the book she’d had repaired for Wes was revealed.

She touched the spine of the copy ofRobinson Crusoefrom the 1800s and then turned to Benjamin. But he wasn’t looking at her. He looked instead at the book on the tabletop.

“That looks like my father’s.”

She smiled over at him. “It was.”

“Did he give it to you?” Benjamin asked. She heard the worry and maybe the beginnings of anger in his voice.

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