She looks at me, her eyes shiny. “Like the ones my dad would tell me.” She clutches the book to her chest. “Spenser, this is amazing. Thank you. What an incredible night.” She shakes her head, like she can’t believe it’s real, her thick, chocolate-brown hair rustling with the movement.
“Do you want to come upstairs?” I ask. I’m torn on how I want her to answer.
Obviously, I want her more than my next breath. But it’s been a long time for me and I’d hate to embarrass myself. More than that, I don’t want to rush what might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
And now that I know she feels the same way I do, there’s something to be said for a little anticipation.
“I want to,” she says, “I really, really do. But I think I should go home. If you’re open to it, I’d like to explore what this is between us. But I need to take it slowly.”
I nod. “That works for me.”
“Excellent.” She nudges her shoulder into mine. “But if you wanted to walk me home, I wouldn’t say no.”
I put my arm around her and pull her close. “It would be my pleasure.”
JULIET
As they prepare to leave for the day, Jin pulls the hood of their sweatshirt over their head and gives me a dubious look. “I hope you brought an umbrella. We’re supposed to get a heckuva storm this evening, and I know you always walk.”
I shrug. “I actually didn’t, because I forgot to check my weather app this morning. But it’ll be fine. A little rain won’t hurt me.”
Jin raises their black brows. “We’re not talking about some sprinkles. We’re talking thunder, lightning, potential flash floods…a proper spring storm is about to roll through.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”
Jin nods and hurries for the door, obviously in a rush to get home before the weather turns. I look out the windows, but I can’t see what the fuss is about. It’s cloudy and a little breezy,sure, with a cooler temperature than usual, but there’s nothing ominous happening.
Spenser and Flicker join me at the window. “You ready for the storm?” he asks.
“Not you too.”
He gives me a curious look. “Whaddya mean?”
“Jin was just warning me about the dire weather.” I gesture outside, where nothing is happening. “Eek, look at it go.”
He shakes his head. “Oh, you precious Harmony Glen newbie. You’ll learn.”
I resist rolling my eyes. Spenser and Jin are behaving like old sea captains predicting a Nor’easter. I’m fairly sure the storm—if it materializes—will be a regular old thunderstorm that I’ll survive just fine, especially given the warmth and coziness of the bookstore.
Two hours later, I’m rethinking my skepticism. It’s grown significantly darker, the wind is howling through the trees and blowing leaves down the street, and in the distance, I can hear the rumble of thunder.
The customers are all murmuring to each other, in a hurry to check out and get home before the storm hits. In my pocket, my phone vibrates withanotherweather alert.
All right. Maybe I should have listened when my friends warned me about the coming storm. I stand at the window, watching the clouds rolling, and out of nowhere, rain begins pelting the windows, the wind sending it sideways like little bullets. A giant clap of thunder echoes above us, making everyone in the store jump, and then the power flickers.
“Attention!” Spenser shouts. “Anyone who wants to try to make it home, leave now. Just put your books on the counter and we’ll hold them until morning. If you want to wait things out here, you’re more than welcome. Gather together and I’llget some emergency flashlights in case the power goes out. I’m gonna hold off processing any more sales until this passes.”
One or two men hurry out, empty handed, but everyone else huddles together in the open foyer of the store, under the comforting glow of the twinkle lights.
“All right, everyone, let’s move away from the windows, just in case,” Spenser says calmly, herding them deeper into the building, to where the seating area is. He waves me over. “Keep an eye on them while I get flashlights out of my office,” he whispers.
There are eight of us altogether: five customers, Spenser, me, and Flick, who is curled up in a chair, watching everything carefully. Her ears are forward and attentive, and despite her relaxed posture, her purple eyes are wide. I go over and give her a few reassuring strokes on the head.
“While we wait, we should either read or tell stories,” I suggest.
Max, one of the regulars, volunteers to read from the science fiction book he was planning to buy, and Spenser comes back with four flashlights. It’s hard to hear Max over the pounding rain and wailing wind, but we lean close. He’s five or six pages into the story when another huge clap of thunder booms directly above us and everything goes black.
There are a few gasps in the dark before people realize they can still see Spenser, who is glowing faintly. As promised, when I’m with him, I’m never really in the dark. He hands me a flashlight and passes the other two to the customers.
