Page 3 of The Bookworm Who Stole Christmas
“Because as much as I enjoy hearing that you love to read, having qualifications is more important,” I point out, an eyebrow raised.
Amelia frowns, complaining. “Dad… I get straight A’s?—”
“And I’m so proud of you for that,” I interrupt.
She scowls, looking so much like me as she continues. “Anyway… I can’t wait to go there now that school's over for the holidays. I think I’m going to spend every day in there.”
“Yay, even less time with my daughter,” I reply sarcastically.
“Oh, stop it, Dad,” she giggles, pushing me slightly.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you! Oh, Grandma’s waiting for me at the bakery. I’m having dinner with her and Pops. I’ll catch you in a bit.” She hugs me, then goes running off.
She’s a bright kid, so I don’t worry about her as she bounds down the street in search of my mom.
My mom and dad have been amazing and have really helped with Amelia. Seeing as my house is a mess with renovations, it’s easier for both of us to spend most of our time there, especially since I know she loves hanging out with them.But moving to a small town was never on my list of things to do.
I’ve always been a city boy, born and raised, but after a particularly bad divorce a couple of years ago, I decided to move closer to my folks. Which is how I ended up in Haven’s Dale, a little town in the ass end of nowhere.
It’s a nice place. Very tight-knit and full of busy bodies, though. In the last two years I’ve lived here, I’ve been propositioned four times by the old lady brigade and set up twice on a blind date by my mom and her friends. Don’t getme wrong, they were both lovely ladies, but they just weren’tit.
Unlike most guys, I love the idea of finding ‘the one.’ My marriage failed because Dani wasn’t, and I’ve almost given up hope that I’ll ever find her; though, I know she’s out there somewhere.
Taking a wander through town, I try and find the bookstore. I keep walking until I finally find Maddie’s Den opposite the coffee shop and florist. The lights are still on, and the sign says ‘open,’ so I head in.
I step into the store, and a doorbell jingles, alerting the owner to my presence. I glance around the place, which looks cozy and welcoming. Bookcases upon bookcases line all of the walls, and a ladder is placed against one of them. The various reading nooks sprinkled throughout the room make you want to find a good book and curl up in one, and I’m not even a reader.
Ambling around, I check each section—fiction, non-fiction, children’s, but no Christmas. Deciding to ask the owner, I walk to the back of the store to the till.
A beautiful brunette stands behind it, and my breath catches. She has big brown eyes, a cute button nose, high cheekbones, and pillowy lips that look soft to touch. In all of my thirty-nine years, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman as stunning as her.
Maybe if I’m really good, Santa will put her under my tree this year?
One can only hope.
She glances up and freezes, her own eyes assessing me the way I did her not ten seconds ago. She doesn’t give anything away, though, as she says, “What can I do for you?”
Her voice has a soft, lyrical sound to it,and I want to hear more. What other sounds does she make? What does her laugh sound like? I need to know.
Closing my mouth, which dropped open the second I laid eyes on her, I take a step forward and hold out my hand. “Parker Grayson.”
The mysterious woman looks at my hand, then darts her eyes back up to my face.
“Madison Coleman,” she says slowly, almost like she didn’t want to give me her name but felt she had to.
Madison. The name suits her somehow.
Realizing she’s not going to accept my handshake, I pull my arm back in, nervous all of a sudden. She looks young. Am I being creepy?
Shit.
“Sorry,” I stammer. “I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. It’s just that where I’m from a handshake is customary. I apologize.”
Madison tilts her head like she’s trying to work me out, and I squirm under her gaze.
That’s normal, right? A man squirming?
