Page 25 of Enemy Crush
I lift one brow. “You do realize that I’ll probably be dripping here soon and if I don’t have something to catch it, it’s going down my legs. Not something I want to happen in a crowded bookstore.”
“Dripping?” he asks, confused.
“Yeah, that load you just shot inside of me has to go somewhere,” I point out.
“I thought they swam?” His brows draw together.
I roll my eyes. “What are you, two?” I reach out and snatch my panties from his hand, putting them back in place.
“Wait, they don’t swim?”
“Some of them do but not the whole load.”
“Huh,” he says, scratching his head.
I shake my head and laugh. “Get out there. I’m going to use the bathroom and freshen up.” I grab my purse and step into his private bathroom. I fix my hair and freshen up the lip gloss I lost from our kisses. I use the bathroom and wash my hands. I straighten my dress and make sure everything is back in order before leaving the office. When I step into the main part of the store, I hear several people talking and I round the corner to find that our guest has arrived with his assistant. Paxton and Jackie are both standing at his table, thanking him again and again. I put a smile on my face and walk over. Pax puts his arm around my shoulders and introduces us.
“And the woman behind it all, my girlfriend, Stella. Stella, this is Smith Grayson.”
I smile and hold out my hand to shake. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We talked so much over email that I feel like I already know you.”
He laughs and shakes my hand. “Yes, it’s nice to finally meet you too. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you for coming. You don’t even know how much this means to us.”
“It’s noon, should we let them in?” his assistant asks.
“Oh, of course,” I respond.
Jackie takes her place behind the register and I move to the door while Paxton stays next to the table to keep people moving along. I open the door and smile and greet people as they slowly move inside. A lot of them are people from town so while we wait for the line to move, I sit and have conversations with them about how their families are, how excited they are to be meeting the author, and of course they ask about how the store is doing.
While the store has been making a little more than before, I feel like what’s really going to push us over the top every month is the author spotlight. The store is safe for now, but our numbers aren’t where we want them to be just yet. I cross my fingers and hold my breath until later in the evening when we can finally close and count down the register.
I lock the door after closing time and start shutting off the lights while Pax starts counting down the drawer. I begin moving all the chairs back that we had to set up for the author to give his speech. I’m only halfway down when I turn around and see the numb look on Paxton’s face.
“What is it? Is everything okay?” I ask, walking over.
He doesn’t look up so I look down at the book and my mouth drops as my eyes widen. “Is that what we made tonight?”
He doesn’t speak, all he can do is nod.
I squeal and jump up and down, pleased to see that we hit our goal and surpassed it.
Chapter Fourteen
Paxton
It has been one month since the first book signing and the store is still up and running and doing better than ever. Word got out about our author spotlight and it’s been drawing in people from all around. The next signing is already on the books for the month and we’re working to line up authors for the future months. Stella has been busy with helping another business in town and in order to give her the time she needs to focus on that, I’ve decided to take it upon myself to line up the authors from here on out.
My dad is finally back from his vacation and we have a dinner planned for this evening. I close the store and head home to shower and change. I drive over to Stella’s around five and I let myself in. The living room is empty so I walk deeper into the house. The bedroom door is cracked so I tap on it a few times.
“Come in,” she says from the other side.
I push the door open and step into the room to find her looking herself over in the mirror. She’s wearing a black dress that’s formfitting up top and it flares out at the waist. It ends just above her knees. She looks beautiful and elegant.
“What do you think?” she asks, sweeping her dark hair over her shoulder.
I walk up to her and smooth down her hair. “I think you look beautiful.”
