A loudmeowinterrupts us, right on cue, and I chuckle.
“Oh, hey, Mr. Darcy.” I crouch to scoop up the tuxedo cat as he weaves around my legs. “He’s the real bookstore owner.”
She laughs. “Oh, I approve. Black cats have such a vibe.”
Mr. Darcy purrs like an engine, loud and demanding, as he presses his head into my chest like he owns me. Harper scratchesunder his chin, her smile soft in a way that does weird things to my heart.
The bookstore door opens, and Emma and Auston step out.
“Hey,” they both say.
“This one,” Emma adds, nodding toward Mr. Darcy, “is always trying to sneak in some cuddles.”
“Hey, I don’t mind,” I say with a grin, enjoying the soothing vibrations against my chest. “This is Harper—the girl I told you about. And Harper, this is Emma and Auston.”
Harper swallows hard, and I know it’s because of Auston’s celebrity status. But I told her a lot about him. Like the rest of my friends, he’s just a regular guy who doesn’t abuse his position for perks or special treatment.
Harper offers them a smile—albeit a little restrained. “Nice to meet you,” she says, shaking both their hands.
We chat for a few minutes before I finally set Mr. Darcy down, and we head into the bar.
Deacon gives us all a curt wave from behind the counter, and we make our way to the back room. It’s cozy and familiar with its dim lights, the small jukebox humming in the corner, mismatched couches, and an air hockey table that has seen better days. Everyone’s here tonight except for Wally and Grace—and Hawthorne and Aria, who are on vacation.
“Bonsoir!” Alice beams from the couch. “Alice Beaumont, one of the bookstore owners,” she announces, standing to hug Harper. “And Max’s sister. So glad to finally meet you. What a lovely couple!”
Alice,who’s married to Deacon, is a huge romance reader and an unapologetic fan of true love.
But as the words leave her mouth, heat prickles at the back of my neck. We haven’t exactly put a label on this yet.
“It’s—” I start, but I’m not quite sure what to say.
“We’re just hanging out,” Harper says instead, the words coming easy.
I nod, even though there’s a flicker of disappointment I don’t quite manage to hide. I know this is all still new, but something in my gut tells me what we have is more than that. At least for me.
Alice frowns, eyeing us suspiciously before slowly sitting back down next to her brother.
“Are you guys coming to dinner with us?” Beaumont asks. “We’re going to Cleo’s Kitchen.”
“Hard pass,” I say immediately. “Don’t you remember—”
“Wedoremember.” Adler rolls his eyes, perching on the edge of the air hockey table. “But that was months ago, and we told you they made some changes.”
“Yeah,” Marissa adds, sipping her drink. “It’s nice now.”
I shrug. “Still. That was a pretty awful experience—from the food to the service. With all the restaurants we have in a five-block radius, why would I risk it again? I almost died, you know. Those cooks don’t know how to respect allergy restrictions.”
Okay, maybe I wouldn’t have keeled over if I ate a shrimp, but I definitely would have ended up in the hospital.
“Anyway,” I add, glancing at Harper, “Harper and I have plans.” I wink at her.
She blinks in surprise, then smiles. “We do?”
“Unless you’d rather roll the dice and suffer through their sketchy restaurant choice,” I murmur.
She laughs. “Nope. ‘Plans’ sound good.”
“Traitor,” Beaumont belts out, clutching his chest.
