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But today, he’d really talked to me. He’d finally asked me out.
I had mixed feelings about it, though, because I still didn’t know how freaking old he was.
Seriously though. Was he really going to name his dog Grumbly just because I’d suggested it?
Sometimes this little country town made me feel like I’d stepped back in time to a much simpler place where people were actually kind. You couldn’t walk down Main Street without at least ten people saying, “Good day” or “Nice to see you.” There were plenty of cowboys adjusting their hats at me all the time, saying, “Howdy, ma’am,” or sometimes, “Hey, sweet thang, you wanna ride somethin’? I got me a big ol’ bronco at home,” and then they’d laugh and punch their buddies’ arms.
I could’ve done without the latter, but still, it was like a bygone era where men were respectful even if they had no respect for you at all and where ladies wore skirt suits and slept in curlers so their hair was ready to be teased big the next day, like Cal DuBois.
There were lots of kids and teenagers, too, and they kept things modern with cell phones stuck to their fingers twenty-four hours a day, overpriced brand-name shoes, and bad attitudes. The mix of the two generations could sometimes be jarring.
I was closer to the kids’ age at twenty-nine years old, almost thirty, but I felt like the older crowd. It was the main reason I was so excited about the book club. I had always been kind of a loner. I’d spent so much time alone as a kid, and the last few years hadn’t improved that. My gramps said it was because I had an old soul, but it was more that I felt out of place. I dressed out of place, and I was just… different than most people my age.
I’d never been one to do what everyone else was doing to fit in.
Thrifting was my favorite thing in the world, besides reading, and I went resale shopping every time I had the chance, which wasn’t often, usually because I didn’t have a ride. I’d never learned to drive. There were a couple of small shops within walking distance, but unfortunately, I found more horse tack and used cowboy boots than I did vintage fashions or furniture, but finding a rare used item like an old dressing table or a hutch with bottle-glass doors was exciting to me, although living with Gramps definitely put a damper on the things I could bring home. His house was already filled to the brim with stuff. The man never threw anything away, so I had nowhere to put anything.
Hopefully someday soon, I’d get my own place, and then I could fill it with old traveling trunks and early American empire-style chairs.
My days might sound boring to some, but I’d had enough excitement in my life already, so this slow, small town seemed like the perfect place for me. Remembering the sounds of the grating traffic outside the hospital in Tampa, I thought, If I never have to go back to a big, polluted, traffic-filled city again, I’ll be—
“Sam?”
“Huh?” I turned mid-thought to see my favorite author struggling to hold a heavy box in her hands. I hadn’t even heard her come in.
My newest and best girlfriend in Wisper was a romance author, and she was a sight to behold, with her auburn shoulder-length curls framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. Like they’d been crafted by a sculptor, Juneau Moonlight’s waves were big and wide, and they were always so shiny. “I’m so sorry I missed the meeting,” she said as she plopped her box on the counter. “I had a phone meeting with my editor, and it ran late.”
“It’s okay. It was just a quick roll call basically. We made a plan to meet again in week or so.” I tapped the box with my finger. “Are these the signed copies of the new Billionaire Brats book for the reading next month?”
“Yep,” she said as I opened it, then grabbed my phone to snap a pic of her new book. The cover was hot, with a seriously physically fit man half dressed in suit pants, standing over a woman down on her knees, his tie wrapped around her throat. They weren’t even touching in the picture, but the innuendo was there nonetheless. “There’s one in there for you personally, a few for the library’s collection, and I’ve got more in my car for the event next month.”
“Perfect,” I said. “Thanks. Oh, hey, we never discussed this, but were you thinking of keeping the reading small, like, with just local readers? Or I can totally promote this and get a bunch of people here.”
“Oh, no. Let’s keep it small.”
“Are you sure? Don’t you want to get the word out?”
“I guess, but I was thinking maybe we could just invite the ladies from the club and maybe a few others, and everyone could read a passage from their favorite romance book. And then maybe I could read a few paragraphs from the new release. We’ll have food and drinks. Keep it light, and then we can post about it.”
“It’s Aiden and Aster’s book, right?”
She nodded, glancing behind her at the front door. “Aster’s Billionaire Bad Boy.”
“Sure,” I said. “We can keep it local this time, but you’ve really got to try to get over this shyness, Juni. Your books are good. People need to know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” she said, not even trying to hide the change of subject. “Who was that big ol’ hunk-o-man I just bumped into on my way in, and since when are dogs allowed in the library? I’ve seen him around town before. Isn’t he the hot cop you told me about who comes in every week? I meant to tell you, I think Max knows him.”
“Yeah, that’s Frank. He’s a deputy for the Sheriff’s Department. He hasn’t mentioned he knows Max—he doesn’t really talk that much—but Wisper’s so small, I’m sure your boyfriend and the hot cop are acquainted.” I was still flushed from standing so close to him. My heart hadn’t stopped pattering away inside my chest, but I was trying to act cool in front of Juni.
I’d only ever been that close to Frank one other time, when I’d lost my balance on my very first day at the library and he caught me at the last second before I fell on my ass. He held me in his arms, gazing into my eyes for at least thirty seconds longer than he’d needed to, and the whole time I’d been worried that I still had some of Phil’s chocolate frosting on my face.
It felt good to be in his arms—not that I would ever let him in on that—but I’d been hoping since then that he might ask me out. I had been sure he would. I mean, the way he’d looked at me while he held me? All heat and intense gray-blue eyes. His lips had parted like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, and just before he lowered me to my feet, he squeezed his hand around my waist.
I had to excuse myself to the bathroom after he left so the Kid’s Corner preschool group that had come in—or their parents—didn’t notice the sweaty and overexcited mess I was.
Then he’d made it a regular thing. Other than one span of two weeks back in October, Frank showed up every Tuesday at eleven-thirty. He’d eat his lunch in his cruiser, and then he’d park his deliciously muscled ass in one of the library’s under-stuffed, old armchairs and read a book, usually one about World War II or Vietnam.
But for the most part, the extent of the conversation I’d gotten out of him was a grunt or a mumble here or there. I’d thought maybe it was just me, but my friend Brady confirmed that Frank wasn’t much of a talker with anyone.
