Page 65 of Accidental Blind Date
“Good. So, you understand we have a lot of changes to make.”
“You mean like bashing that wall out over there so customers can stand in line for overpriced lattes pumped out of a noisy espresso machine? Or are you talking about how we will lower prices, shoving our authors even lower into the poverty gutter they are already trying to survive in?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Writers are a dying art anyways,”
I shove around that statement because it’s an entirely different conversation I’d love to steamroll him in. “Or maybe you’re referring to the bookshelves on the walls,” I say, my voice crescendoing as I gesture behind him. “The ones our dad made with his own hands. The same hands he stained the wood with. The hands that loved our mother and fed us even when things were hard.”
“Don’t be gross,” he cringes. “I don’t want to think about mom and dad.”
“Of course you don’t, Kai. Because you never think about them. Now that I say it, you never think about anyone but yourself. You didn’t ask if I wanted to sell.”
“I’m the first born. It was never up to you,”
“I am your sister. I am your partner. And this store is my life!” I shout and the words hang in the air for several seconds before he swallows and chooses to move on. As he does. As he always has.
“Well, like it or not, Libs. The store is sold. The changeswillbe made. And that’s that. So, I suggest you stop living in the past. Please. For everyone’s sake. You’re driving Dax nuts andyou’re making everything harder. Find a new life, sis. Accept that change is good.”
But I won’t. I refuse. My brother sees himself out and I lock the door behind him, watching as he disappears into the night. My jaw is tight, and my eyes are burning from the hot, angry tears. I’m shaking, but it’s not because he upset me. My brother deceived me. And I am livid.
I can hear Dax’s footsteps on the creaking, wooden floor as he slowly makes his way over behind me. The floors will probably be gone too. All of it will be. It’s enough to crush me.
I turn around, trembling from the thought of it all. The reality of it all. And my eyes land on Dax’s.
“Listen to me,” he says, closing all but one foot of space between us. “I’m not going to do anything to your shop that you don’t give the okay on.”
I snort out a half laugh, laugh snivel. “Are you sure about that? Because last I checked, Hemingway’s all look the same. A same that looks very different than my shop.”
Dax looks around. “Yeah well…your shop has grown on me. A lot of things have grown on me, Libby Sterling. And I’m not about to make any mistakes.”
“You mean that?” I ask carefully.
But Dax’s eyes are warm, and he grabs my hands, bringing them to his mouth. His lips press to them in a kiss and a truce in the form of a smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah. I do.”
With that, I kiss him, and we forget all about my brother and everything else I’ve been anxious about.
Chapter 21
Dax
“So, I’ve been thinking,” I say as I drop a barbell to the floor at the local CrossFit gym.
“Uh oh,” Kai jokes mid pull up. “This can’t be good.”
Kai and I have always gone to the gym together once a week. Ever since we met, it’s kind of been our brotherly thing. We talk business, we hit the gym for spotting and sparing, and we go out for a beer after. We find it to be productive for business, blowing off steam and smoothing it over with an ice-cold brew. Even if knocking back a few is counterproductive for the waistline.
“Hemingway is doing pretty well for itself,” I say as I make my way over to the sparing ring, grabbing my gloves before ducking under the ropes.
“It is!” Kai agrees, following me. “Which means I will soon be doing well for myself too. You know I talked to Libby about it recently and she is still fighting me on everything. She acts like a captain going down with their ship. But the ship has sailed, you know what I’m saying.”
I pop my mouthguard in and maneuver into place, hopping back and forth. I want to hit something, hearing him talk abouther like her opinions don’t matter. Kai is my friend. But Libby…is special to me.
“I just think she needs to have a come to Jesus moment,” he goes on, attempting a hit and missing. “I’m sure she will when I take a sledgehammer to those rickety old shelves. You know they have to be an OSHA viola–”
The words cut short when I pop him in the mouth.
“Fuck, man,” he laughs but there’s an edge behind it. I don’t think he expected me to go for blood so quickly. But he’s been going for blood for days.
“Here’s an idea, man,” I say as we turn in a calculated circle. “What if we don’t completely destroy the place?”
