Page 50 of What Comes After

Chapter Thirteen

Abel

––––––––

“This is so good.” Peytonmoans around a mouthful of food.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, but a lot of people say stuff like that. Best place ever, yada yada.” She swirls her hand in the air. “Very rarely is it actually the case.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that this was not one of those cases.”

“Me too.” She grins before taking another bite of her burger. She waits until she’s chewed and swallowed before continuing, “So, your aunt and uncle own this place?”

“Yep. Have since I was a kid.”

“That’s awesome. I’ve always thought it would be cool to own my own business.”

“Then why not do it?”

“Me?” She snorts. “I’m not cut out to be a business owner. I like being able to shut off my brain at five o’clock and not think about work again until I’m back in the office the next morning.”

“If you did open your own business, hypothetically speaking of course, what would you do?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve never really given it that much thought. I think maybe a clothing boutique, seeing as I have a slight obsession with clothes and shoes. Or maybe a bookstore.”

The mention of a bookstore brings Finley to the forefront of my thoughts. I’ve never met someone who loves books the way she did.

“Why a bookstore?” I push past the sudden tightness in my chest.

“Because I love bookstores.”

“I take it you’re a big reader?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I do enjoy a good murder mystery every now and again, but I wouldn’t say I’m a big reader. I just really love bookstores.”

“Any specific reason why?”

“My mom.” She turns her eyes downward for a long moment before her gaze comes back up to mine. “She loved to read. When I was little, we used to stop by the little bookstore in town every time we’d be out running errands. She’d spend hours browsing the shelfs and would usually walk out with several new books each time we went. My dad used to joke that he needed a second job to support her reading habit.” She smiles at the memory.

“I used to know someone who loved to read like that.”

“Oh yeah?” She pops a fry into her mouth.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat.

“Was it your wife?” She hits me with a sympathetic look, only further confirming my suspicions that Aaron must have told her. Her eyes flash to my wedding ring and then come back up to mine, her features softening.

“It was,” I confirm after several moments of silence have passed between us.

“Did she like to read anything in particular?”

“She loved everything, but mostly romance. It would fascinate me, watching her read. I could tell what was happening based on her expression. She felt every character and story so deeply while she was reading it was almost like they were a part of her.”

“Sounds like my mom.” She gives me a sad smile. “Tell me more about her.”

I don’t have to ask to know who she’s talking about, but for some reason I do anyway. “Who?” My voice comes out thick.

---