I might even get up the courage to tell Xavier I’m falling in love with him. Maybe.
“Hey, Lucy.” Amanda, my lone coworker for the day, looks about as frazzled as I’m feeling. She’s carrying the register drawer in one hand and a can of Red Bull in the other. “I’m going to put this in the safe, and then I think we should be ready to go. Unless you can think of something we missed?”
I give the books on theRoad Trippingtable a final, appraising glance before saying, “I don’t think so. All the shelves have been restocked, the counters wiped down, and I left all the reports on Remy’s desk.”
Amanda shakes her head. “I’m glad Remy will be back tomorrow. Not that I begrudge him taking a vacation, but with Emmett and Victoria calling out…”
“Yeah.” I walk alongside Amanda as she heads to the office. “Figures it would happen the first time Remy takes time off since he opened the place.”
“I know.” As I watch her open the safe, I continue, “I don’t think I want to tell Remy how rough today was. He’ll never take a vacation again.”
My fifty-something boss has been talking about taking a trip to Yellowstone for over a year, but he’s been too worried about leaving the store to go. Tired of waiting, his boyfriend finally made non-refundable reservations without telling Remy, so there was no way of rescheduling it.
Like Amanda, I’m glad he’s enjoying his well-deserved vacation, but I’ll be glad when he’s back. Not just because he’s a great boss, but because he loves books as much as I do. Every time we work together, we chat about books and he asks me how my writing is going. He always says, “Imagine, a famous author working in my little store. One day, when you’re a number one New York Times bestseller, I hope you’ll come do a signing here.”
I’m not really famous. Yes, I’ve published twenty-six romance novels and have hit the top lists for romance on Amazon, but I’m nowhere close to a bestseller. And that’s okay with me. Just being able to write and put my books out in the world for people to read them is enough to make me happy.
My parents keep saying I should quit my job, let them support me while I write full time. But I don’t want to. It’slike what I told Xavier not long after we met. Just because my parents are wealthy, it doesn’t meanIearned it. I want to find success on my own terms, and if that means working part time at the bookstore to help pay my bills, that’s what I’ll do.
“Phew.” Amanda spins the combination dial on the safe, then stands up and lets out a relieved sigh. “Finally done. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”
“Same.” As we leave the office, I turn off the light and make sure the door is locked. “Do you have any plans when you get home?”
“Yes. I have a date with some ice cream and wine.” Amanda grins. “What about you?”
“I’m going to try to get some writing done. Maybe order a pizza. Really exciting stuff.”
“No Xavier tonight?”
“Not tonight.” I force a smile. “He’s working in Houston. But he’ll be back in a couple of days.”
We go quiet as we move through the store, double-checking the doors and shutting off lights. Once we’re at the back door, about to leave, she says, “Well, if you’re feeling lonely, we could go out tomorrow night. The Lonesome Hearts Pub does ladies' night on Thursdays.”
“Maybe.” Or not. Amanda is single and definitely looking, and I’m not in the mood to play wing-woman for the night. Bars were never really my thing, and they’re definitely not now. I’ll go out with Xavier and his friends, but that’s different. They go to the little bar outside town—aptly named The Bar, which always makes me laugh—and with Xavier and his five former Green Beret teammates around, I never have to worry about some strange guy hitting on me.
“That sounds more like a no,” she laughs. “But if you change your mind…”
“I know. Let me see how much work I get done tomorrow.”
As we walk across the small parking lot, I keep my hand in my purse, fingers wrapped around the small canister of pepper spray Xavier insisted I carry. He gave it to me months ago with the explanation, “I know it seems excessive. But I know a woman who got away from her attacker by using this stuff. And I worry about you walking to your car at night. Will you take this?”
Of course I said yes. And I take all the other precautions a woman should when she’s walking alone at night. I have one of those alert whistles attached to my keychain. I try to walk with a partner whenever possible. And I never use my earbuds or stare at my phone, staying alert instead.
But once I’m inside my car and the doors are locked, I pull out my phone and text Xavier.
Hey. Just left work. Long day. I hope everything is going well at the conference. Say hi to Rhiannon and Erik for me. I miss you.
I’m not sure if he’s busy, so I put the car in drive and am about to pull out of the parking lot when his reply comes in.
Hey sunshine. I miss you, too. The conference is good, but can’t wait to get home. I should be wrapping things up for the night soon, so I’ll call you later. Drive safe.
A smile pulls at my lips as I picture Xavier taking a minute from his duties to text me. He’s probably wearing a suit—he said that’s what they wear when working an event—and all the women there are no doubt drooling over him. His tailored jacket hugs his broad shoulders and very impressive biceps, and he has that sexy, intense look in his eyes…
I never considered myself a particularly sensual person, but with Xavier? It’s like the sexy scenes in my books come to life. Better, even.
While I drive home, I let my mind wander to the chapters I’m planning to work on tomorrow. One of them is the first timemy characters have sex—make love—and I really want to make it perfect.
Before Xavier, most of my steamy scenes came from my imagination. But now? I can use what we do for inspiration.