Page 2 of The Best Book Boyfriend
“Oh, she’s checked out the arms,” Hattie laughs. “You’re done for.”
“I’m gonna die,” Megan mock faints onto my sofa. “And he just struck up a conversation about books? He’s a real life Book Boyfriend!”
“No, no. Don’t get ahead of yourself. He was a bit rude, actually.”
“Ugh,men,” they both groan as we tuck in, opening containers and spreading them across the table.
After Adam left, my calls went straight to voicemail. He blocked me on social media. Deleted me from his life. No wonder I’ve sworn off human men. Instead, I spend my evenings with an array of exceptionally hot literary ones.
“Every week a new Book Boyfriend.”The girls tease me about my obsession with romance novels, but I’ve found a lot of comfort between the pages of these sweet and spicy tales of unlucky yet feisty heroines and the charming, attentive men who are feral for them.
If there’s one thing the past year has taught me, it’s that my bed, a good book, and a small but powerful collection of sex toys is all a girl really needs. And I get through a lot more than one book a week.
I take a big gulp of wine and Hattie spoons egg fried rice and crispy chilli chicken onto all of our plates. Megan opens the prawn crackers and takes dainty little bites, while I prefer more of a shovelling-it-all-in at once in approach. “So then what happened?” Hattie asks.
“Then I left.”
“Without the note?” she gasps.
“No, not without the note.”
“Where is the note?” Megan asks. “We need to see the note.”
“In my book in the front pocket of my bag,” I whisper, tilting my head towards the door. The two of them lock eyes across the table, then leap from the floor, racing each other down the hallway. Megan lets Hattie take her down in a fit of laughter. Her big heart always wants everyone to win. Hattie reappears in the doorway moments later, note in hand, eyes frantically scanning what I know is his very nice handwriting.
“Oh, Jesus,” she groans. “Why didn’t you start with his name?”
“What’s his name?” Megan turns to ask me but I can’t answer her. I pull my jumper up over my face to hide my blushes. “Oh no. It’s not Adam, is it?” Hattie just stands there, mouth on the floor, fully agog as she reads it again.
“Kara! What is his name?” Megan is up on her knees now, both begging and towering over me. I just curl myself into a ball waiting for Hattie to say it, but she gives the honour to me.
“It’s Luke,” I whisper.
“Shut the fuck up!”We are all wide-eyed and shriek as if possessed. Megan does not swear,ever, though I can understand her excitement.
Luke Russo is the hero inTo Love and Protect, an Italian bodyguard with a scorching body and a filthy mouth. Though the girls don’t read as much romance as me, they do enjoy an occasional recommendation, and my love for Luke Russo had me shoving copies into their hands. We’ve spent many hours talking about him, his muscles, the way he takes control, all the things we’d let him do to us. To meet a real life Luke, well, I know where their heads are going right now.
“I want him! Read it to me!” Megan says, and Hattie clears her throat.
“He’s written his phone number and, and I quote,‘I look forward to having the time of my life. Luke.’”
In seconds Megan is up and reading it over her shoulder, both looking back and forth between the note and me with faces full of joy. Hattie takes a deep breath as she sits back at the table and picks up her fork. “Kara, you’re going to need to start from the beginning and tell useverything.”
Chapter 2
Kara
Ihavelongbelievedthat the only thing better than curling up in bed with a good book is finding a window table in a cute little cafe. You know, somewhere you can spend an hour with a gorgeous Book Boyfriend, a coffee, and a cinnamon bun. So today was off to a great start.
I’d had time to kill before meeting my client to discuss their upcoming home renovation, and they recommended I try Sunshine Coffee, a new place just around the corner from their townhouse. As if I ever needed an excuse to cram in some extra reading time.
When I turned off the high street into the open courtyard, a bittersweet feeling washed over me. The building used to be home to a brilliant haberdasher, and I visited often for fabrics and upholstery supplies. The owner, Marjory, taught me so much over the years, especially when I was getting started out. When she retired a couple of years ago, the place was left empty, until now.
The little table by the window soon won me over. We’ve only got a couple of greasy spoon type caffs in town, so an upmarket coffee shop was something we really needed. After ordering, I took a moment to enjoy the sun streaming through the window, warming my face while I embraced a much needed breather from my busy week. All my weeks are busy right now, but I’m not complaining.
Whoever has taken over the shop has paid a lovely homage to its history by covering the back wall with a display of vintage fabrics in frames and there are lots of lush green plants dotted around. They’ve brought the rest of the space to life with white walls and pale wooden furnishings. It’s beautifully simple except for the bright yellow counter that draws you in as you walk through the door. It certainly lives up to the Sunshine Coffee name.
I’m obsessed with interiors. After turning my house from a grotty health hazard to the home of my dreams, I started my interior design business and I’ve made a good name for myself. Honestly, I’m a little miffed that I didn’t get the call to do this place.
