Page 31 of The Bookbinder's Guide to Love

“No problem. Do you have a room where I can put my jacket?” he asked.

“Yes. I’ll give you a tour after we close, but for right now, through that door is my storage room. Just put it on the couch back there. There’s a tiny bathroom in the back corner behind the bookcases in case you need it,” she said.

While Wes went to put his stuff down, a couple entered the shop holding hands, and she was struck at the way they didn’t say anything, squeezing each other’s hands before drifting apart to browse. That kind of connection always made her envious.

She hadn’t seen it that often growing up, but when she did...that was what she wanted. Family she was slowly finding for herself. But that one-to-one connection eluded her. Most of that was on her.

She had limited all her nonplatonic interactions to hookups. She liked sex but also liked her distance. She hadn’t intended for it to be that way. But after her first sexual encounter, she’d felt...nothing. She’d thought it would be more magical, like in the romances she’d read. But the guy, Paul, had been nice and cuddled with her after. And all she could think was she needed distance.

She’d spent hours journaling about the relationships she wanted to bring into her life, but once the opportunity presented itself, she ended up having mindless sex in her hallway and then hiring the guy instead of dropping her guard and getting to know him.

Part of that was on Wes. He’d started things with his ass-y letter, but the other part was all her. And it wasn’t even Ford’s death that brought up her barriers. Her default setting was arm’s length for anything that felt too intimate—too real.

She heard the sound of Wes’s boots on the hardwood floor before she felt him standing behind her. “Love your back room. Do you need more paper over here?”

She turned, noticing the flecks of gray in his blue eyes and how thick his eyelashes and eyebrows were. “Sure.”

The side of his mouth kicked up in a half grin as he went to get her the supplies she’d need to make signatures. Surreptitiously she rubbed the crystal next to the register. Watching Wes move was both soothing and arousing. He had a long, easy gait and his body was all fluid movement. Sort of like those animals she saw on the Discovery Channel when she wanted to feel more outdoorsy without leaving her house.

When he turned and their eyes met, she couldn’t help but feel the predator stir in both of them. No matter that they had the trappings of civilization. Both of them wanted something carnal from the other. She’d thought she’d satisfied that need the night before. That a onetime bang in her hallway would be enough.

Maybe if he’d been the asshole his letter had portrayed him to be it would have been. There was something palpable between them when their eyes met and she shivered with longing. Needing him again.

How was this possible?

She’d always been able to control her lust. Last night should have set her up for at least six weeks of not wanting anyone.

Wes had been good, but he’d awakened some kind of craving in her for more. And if it had been any other guy...maybe—maybe she’d let herself indulge in it.

But it wasWes Sitwell. With his thick blond hair, cable-knit sweater and long fingers that had moved over her body with the same reverence he used to touch the books in her shop. He stirred something inside that was foreign and scared her. Sera had never let herself be scared by anything once she’d become an adult. She took care of herself.

So how was she going to do that with Wes, who she’d promised to share stories with? Who she wanted to lead into the back room and kiss him until they were both naked?

“Excuse me?”

She broke her stare with Wes and turned to her customer. “How can I help?”

“I noticed you have some early-edition Beatrix Potter books but didn’t seeThe Tailor of Gloucester,” the woman said. “It’s my husband’s favorite story and I wondered if you’d be able to check your sources to find one for me.”

“I sure can. Is it a surprise?” she asked, as the woman had kept her voice low.

“I’d like it to be. We’ve been looking for a while and haven’t found it,” she said.

“Jot your details down here and I’ll start searching,” she said. “I’ll be in touch either way.”

“Thanks. Also, do you have any of the intention journals left?” the woman asked.

Sera allocated a certain number for each morning and stuck to it, but now that she had Wes working with her, she might be able to offer more later in the day.

“Normally I ask that you come between ten and twelve to get them. Would that work for you?” she asked.

“It will,” she said. “We’re spending the night in town.”

“Perfect. I will say it gets pretty crazy in the morning,” Sera warned her.

“We saw the crowds earlier. So we decided to wait until they died down. We’re having tea in about twenty minutes, so I thought I’d see if you could do a journal while we’re waiting,” she said.

Sera wanted to because she liked this lady and there was the possibility of a nice commission if she found the rare Potter title the woman wanted. But Sera had an innate sense of fairness, and she couldn’t let this woman buy a journal when she’d sent people home earlier in the day.

---