Page 47 of Presley's Christmas Catch
The man’s face breaks into a grin. “Come on in. Sorry, Mr. Hunter. I’m a soccer fan, to be honest. Never watch football. Sapphira is my sister and called me because you all had a little trouble this morning. You looked like a football fan.” He shrugs, clearly unbothered by not recognizing Brock.
“Good call,” Brock says, holding out his knuckles for a fist bump. “Iama pretty big football fan.” They both laugh, and the man motions for us to enter the shop.
Unlike this morning, only a few customers mill around, and they’re actually browsing books. A woman looks up when we enter and glares at us. I’d bet money she’s one of the actual TOK fans that didn’t end up with a ticket this morning. Brock nods at her, and I force a smile, but her glare only deepens, and she goes back to readingVeil of the Queenas she leans against a bookcase.
Sapphira makes a show of checking our tickets at the door, which is obviously unnecessary except for Cranky Lady hovering nearby. By my quick headcount, the other twenty-five ticket recipients are already here. Folding chairs are set up in the small room and there’s a folding table at the front stacked with copies of the other books in the TOK series.
Brock and I take seats in the back. There are only three left in the corner, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Brock couldn’t have crammed himself into one of the rows closer to the front even if I wanted him to. Everyone else is seated, chatting amongst themselves. There are still thirty minutes before Thornridge is scheduled to come. Brock scoots along the back wall, and I follow him to the remaining open seats. He pulls one away from the row, setting it closer to the wall before sitting carefully in it. We share a relieved glance when it doesn’t buckle out from underneath him, and then we grin at each other.
“Let’s make it a point to bring our own, reinforced chairs next time we come to one of these,” I say.
“Agreed.”
I pull outVeil of the Queenagain.
“Are you going to read that out loud to me?” Brock asks pointedly.
“You have a copy.” I gesture to the brown gift bag at his feet.
He puts his hand on my book, preventing me from opening it. “This is the last time we’ll get to read a TOK book for the first time. We should … we should read it together.”
I tilt my head at him. I love that he wants to share this with me. “We will.” I wink at him. “I’m just going to beat you, obviously.”
He keeps his hand covering the book and stares at me earnestly. “No. I mean together. Reading it aloud to each other. Really experiencing ittogether.”
I draw in a quick breath. I couldn’t tell him no even if I wanted to. “That might take a long time,” I say cautiously. What I don’t say is that I could ruin our friendship again by then. How will I keep things friendly between us when he’s reading a book to me in the sweet, sexy voice of his? How will I not jump in his lap and kiss him when Thornridge reunites Lyra and Kael after they’ve been apart for almost two years? (He better reunite them.)
“I’ve never had someone like you in my life, Pres. Someone to really share this with. I want to make it memorable because this is it.”
I’m nodding before he even finishes talking. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
I keep the book in my lap, but I don’t open it while we wait. Instead we talk about football, and Brock jokes about how tired he’s going to be tomorrow. I beam at him when he promises me that it’s totally worth it. I tell him about how I got the job as a physical therapist with the Rays thanks to my dad and then we talk about my dad for a while since Brock knows about him. He seems to enjoy it when I relay how he and his friend Jeff reassured me that Brock would definitely get signed somewhere.
Before we know it, Sapphira calls for everyone’s attention and announces Gideon Thornridge. He appears through a side door at the front of the room, waving cheerfully to everyone as he comes to take a seat at the table amid wild clapping for so small a crowd. Alexis follows him inside, taking her place at his side. She gives a nervous glance around the room and then her shoulders relax, probably when she confirms that it’s only true TOK fans here, not rowdy Brock Hunter fans. She smiles whenher gaze turns to our corner of the room, and Brock returns the expression.
Gideon Thornidge looks just like his picture in the backs of the books, though obviously older. His wavy hair, which is tousled and stands straight up—and not in a fashionable way—is threaded through with gray. His thick-rimmed glasses hide some of the lines around his eyes. His smile is wide. He’s tall and lanky, something I couldn’t have gotten from a picture, but it doesn’t surprise me.
“Hello, everyone,” he says, and various greetings echo back to him.
“We’re going to do a fifteen-minute question-and-answer session,” Alexis says officially, “and then you can line up to have Mr. Thornridge sign your books.”
“No mister, here, Alexis,” Mr. Thornridge says, waving a hand at his agent. “Just Gideon. Everyone here is a good friend.” He beams. I like him so much.
I can barely focus during the question-and-answer portion. I keep thinking about what I’m going to say and pulling up the picture of Aunt Shannon that I put in my phone’s photo’s favorites folder to make sure it was easily accessible.
Someone asks if Lyra is the Obsidian Queen, and Gideon chuckles and says, “Next,” making everyone else laugh. Someone else asks what took so long for this book. The answer is surprising enough that I pay attention while he’s talking.
“It’s been written for about ten years, to be honest. I was waiting until the time felt right.” He leaves it at that, even though everyone murmurs, and the next question is, “Why is now the right time?” He waves it off and says in that same calm tone, “Next.”
I bounce my foot through questions about who the characters are based off of and if there are going to be more. (“Definitely not,” he says to that.) Questions about if he’s going to write more books, and he shrugs at that too.
Brock puts his hand on my leg to still it, and everything elsefades as I look over at him. He doesn’t meet my gaze, just rests his hand on my thigh. He gives it one small squeeze and leaves his hand there.
Iknowit’s about comfort and calming, but my leg is on fire. My entire body is on fire. I don’t calm down like Brock intended because my thoughts are racing around him. Aching for him. Wanting to scoot my chair closer and snuggle up against his side while we listen to Gideon.
The question-and-answer session goes past fifteen minutes, and Alexis finally ends it and invites people to come forward to have their books signed.
