Page 30 of The Enemy Face Off

Milo's the first guy who I've let slip past my defenses, even if it's only a tiny bit. I'm not sure if I'm ready to let him in anymore.

I'm fine with how things between us currently stand.

I am.

Really.

"Why are you sitting alone in the dark re-reading for the millionth time messages from the guy you claim is only your neighbor?" my boss Courtland asks, flicking on the overhead light.

My eyes squint as I adjust the brightness. "I wasn't sitting alone in the dark, I had a lamp on. It's called creating a cozy atmosphere."

He surveys the tight quarters packed with books, folders, and cleaning supplies, and then turns to me, sitting at the tiny table in the middle of it all.

"This isn't cozy. This is one step away from becoming a crazy cat lady." I shoot him a pointed stare. He raises his hands in the air. "As a proud crazy cat dude, I'm totally allowed to say that."

"Fair enough."

Courtland is Babette's second—or is it third?—cousin, and sheisthe official crazy cat lady of Comfort Bay. Must be something that runs in that family's gene pool.

"Listen, I won't keep you from…" His eyes slide to my phone. "That. I came in to ask if you wouldn't mind staying back tonight?"

"Sure. That's fine."

"Awesome. I'm going to be scheduling author visits for next year, and you mentioned last time you'd like to be involved."

"I did. That sounds great. Ooh, I'm so excited."

"Me, too." He leans against the table and arches a brow. "I'm really hoping we can get Lori Connors."

"Who?" I feign ignorance, and he pins me with a clearly unamused look.

Lori Connors is the author name of my older sister Schapelle, who writes heartwarming romcoms with '90s throwback vibes but that feel very current. Courtland is her number one fan, and it's cool to see a guy who loves reading romance. I'd heard rumors they existed, but I'd never met one in real life.

"You'll be seeing her at Christmas, right? Maybe you can put in a good word. I assume she'll be doing a tour for her fall release."

I adore Schapelle. Despite being five years older than me—she turned twenty-nine last month—we're super close. Being book nerds helps, but unlike me, she's also stylish, confident,and beautiful, with a kind and humble personality to boot. She's basically my idol.

We have a silent agreement that I won't bug her about her author life, but Courtland's a sweet guy, and I know how much it would mean for him to have a big-name author like her visit our humble little bookshop.

I pop a cherry tomato into my mouth. "I'll see what I can do."

"Your droll tone fills me with so much confidence." He goes to leave, then stops. "Oh, and you've still got five minutes left on your break, so you can jump on your phone the second I leave."

"I am not going to do that. And lower those eyebrows, mister, you're going to pull a forehead muscle."

He smiles then leaves, and thesecondhe's gone, I'm reaching for my phone. With less than five minutes until I have to be back on the floor, I can't revisit all of our messages, so I return to what's possibly my favorite convo.

It's one of our earliest.

Milo:You're going to think I'm an idiot…well, more of an idiot, but after our little chat at the fence line, I went online to verify Willow Wilkins is, in fact, a real realtor.

Beth:And?

Milo:I can confirm that she is! Also, I may have stumbled down her Instagram wormhole.

Beth: She has a lot of bikini pics.

Milo:Who posts that many bikini pics?

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