“And?”
“They’re staying at a villa owned by Vincente Conti.” He pauses a beat. “Marco DeAngelos’ uncle.”
Aman wearing a black sweater stands in the middle aisle of the store, his arms full with a tower of books. His wife rushes up the aisle carrying a paperback.
“Last one! I promise.” She reaches him, and his face lights up. It’s as though she’s brought him the sun.
“As many as you want, Sheri.” He gestures with his chin for her to put the paperback on top of the pile.
“This is it. I think seven should keep me occupied through the week.” She laughs.
“We’ll see.” He grins. “You ready?”
“Yep. That’s it.” She stuffs her handsinto her jean pockets. “But we should probably go before anything else catches my eye.”
He leads her up to the register and slides the mountain of books onto the counter. When he twists to look around, I realize I’ve been spying on them from behind the display I’ve been putting together.
“I’ll be right there!” I drop the plastic tubing onto the table, and step over the boxes for tomorrow’s author signing.
I mutter an apology and get them rung up, bagging the books and slipping in a few bookmarks to go along with the purchase before pushing the bag across the counter.
“Thanks.” She reaches for the bag, but he brushes her away and takes it.
She lowers her gaze and thanks him again for the books as he leads her from the store, his hand firmly planted on the small of her back. Warmth rushes through me watching them. Am I jealous of them?
She must feel so loved, so cared for having a man that’s so in-tune with her wants and needs. I didn’t take the time to notice if they were wearing wedding bands, but it doesn’t matter. They’re obviously meant for each other.
For a brief moment I let my mind wander into the what-if portion of my brain I usually keep turned off. I haven’t thought something close to that could be in my future. But this past week with Lev has given me a speck of hope. Maybe it could happen. Maybe I could actually have a husband and children. A family of my very own.
One that I’m not sitting on the outside of looking in. A family that I’m firmly planted in. Where my husband is at my side, and we’re on the same team. Raising our children to know they’re loved and cared for. Where they’ll never have a day of doubt of their worth.
And what if Lev is the man I can have that with?
What a colossal what-if.
“There’s a customer still in the bathroom.” Dmitri steps up to the counter, ruining my little daydream.
Lev only agreed to let me keep my work schedule as normal so long as one of his men kept guard. For the most part, Dmitri has stayed completely unseen. But I’m getting ready to close up soon, so he probably wants to get the last customer out of here.
“We have another ten minutes before we close.” I remind him, and hurry back over to the set up I’m trying to complete before I leave for the night.
The store is only opened until seven tonight, and if I don’t get this finished, I’ll have to either stay later—which will get Lev all up in his bossy feels—or come in early tomorrow. Which would mean having to get up early, and I’d rather not do that.
I’m getting used to sleeping in Lev’s bed. It’s the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in, which has resulted in the most solid sleep I’ve had in years. I can’t remember feeling so rested when I wake up as I have this past week in Lev’s bed.
Even when he wakes me up in the middle of the night and keeps me up for hours, I wake up feeling as though I’dbeen sleeping on clouds. No matter the soreness between my legs or the dull ache of desire that lingers even after he’s made me climax until my eyes cross.
“He’s been in there too long.” Dmitri turns, facing the aisle that leads to the bathrooms.
“Dmitri, what do you think he’s doing in there? Planting a bomb?” I step back over the packages that still need to be opened.
There’s still so much to be done. The books need to be unboxed and shelved in the display, the table needs a tablecloth, and this stupid frame for the backdrop for the author needs to be put together.
“I’m going to see what he’s doing.” Dmitri decides loudly, then stalks off through the store.
“Don’t scare him!” I call after him, but he’s already halfway there and no doubt isn’t listening to me.
I decide to leave the author banner for the morning and focus on getting the book stock unboxed and up onto the temporary shelving. Pre-ordered copies will need go on one side and the rest of the stock on the other.