Page 31 of Christmas By The Book

Jorja bit her lip. “This is so generous,” she whispered, but, before she could say another word, another woman strode toward the counter.

“Did I hear you saying something about Wharton?” she demanded.

“Yes, he was trying to demolish this place, you know,” the first one told her.

Jorja parted her lips, clearly intending to step in, but I reached down to give her hand a squeeze. I just wanted to see how this was going to turn out. I knew it might not be easy for her, to accept this kind of help from other people, but this was what she needed—a chance to see that the community really would come together around her the way she needed them to, when the time was right.

“Oh, that awful man,” she gasped. “I can’t believe he would do that to such a local treasure! Is he still trying to buy the place off you, Jorja?”

“Yes, I... I think so,” Jorja replied, her voice a little shaky.

“We can’t have that,” the woman replied. “Here, let me write you a check. It’s not much, but at least it’ll help keep this place out of his hands.”

Before we knew it, the counter was surrounded by people handing over donations to the cause of keeping the store open and away from Wharton. Calling him a scrooge, grumbling about why he would want to do something like this so close to Christmas, promising Jorja that they were going to call their friends and get them to donate, too.

I could tell this was almost too much for Jorja to take in, but she couldn’t argue with everyone. All she could do was accept the donations that were piling up on the counter in front of her, and watch as everyone came together to make sure that the store stayed well and truly afloat. I was so happy for her. I couldn’t imagine what this meant to her; I had seen how hard she had worked in this place to make sure it stayed open, only to be faced with Wharton trying to trip her up at every turn.

But he couldn’t shut down the community. He couldn’t close off the care these people obviously had for this place, and for the history it had in this town. It had been open for a couple of generations now, and, as people dropped their donations in to the pile, they shared their memories of the place, from meeting friends there, to finding the perfect book to gift a parent, to frantically searching for a specific book they needed to study for school, only to find it tucked in the shelves in this place.

I might not have many memories with this place, but I knew I could sure as hell make them going forward. And, if Jorja would let me, that was exactly what I wanted to do.

Chapter Eighteen

Jorja

“UGGH, I’M SO TIRED,” I groaned with a yawn, as he walked me to the front door.

“I know, it’s been a hell of a day,” Seth agreed, grinning. “But I think we did it, right?”

“You did it,” I replied, raising my eyebrows. “You’re the one who got all those people to visit.”

“And you’re the one who had the store for them to come to in the first place,” he reminded me. “But we can talk about that tomorrow. You should get some rest.”

“I will,” I told him, and I smiled at him as I unlocked the door. “See you soon?”

“See you,” he promised me, and with that, he headed back to his car, and I stepped inside, the lockbox full of donations and profits from the day under my arm.

I still had to count them all up, to see just how well we had done with everything, but I was sure we had enough to pay off everything we’d need to in order to keep the place ticking over. I still couldn’t believe everything that had happened today. It felt almost surreal, like it must have happened to someone else. No way could it have been me. No way could I have been gifted that much good luck out of nowhere.

Mia was insistently mewing for her food, and I stooped down to feed her, the scent of pine needles filling the air, and, as I fed her, I realized that Seth had left without so much as a hug goodbye.

Oh. Oh.

I straightened up again, and tried to control the panic that swam through my head at that thought.

It had been a long day, and I knew I shouldn’t let myself get caught up in the questions of what was going on between us, but I couldn’t help it. After all, today had been all about him spending time with other women. Sure, they had been paying him for the privilege of it, but still, there had been dozens of girls coming in and out of the store, showering him with attention, laughing with him, getting him to sign their books. And I hadn’t even recognized him! What if he had been insulted by that? Thought that I didn’t take his work seriously?

It wasn’t about that, of course. I had just never been particularly into romance novels, thought they were nothing more than a fantasy that was played out to satisfy people who were more open to the idea of love than I was. But I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t care about what he did. I didn’t want him to feel as though I was brushing him off or downplaying what he had made at least part of his career on.

Not to mention the fact that... well, a lot of those women who had been showing him attention today had been a lot more beautiful than me. And a lot more confident, too. No matter what, it still felt like I was playing catch-up to them, stuck back hiding in the office, trying to find some way to handle all this attention. He soaked it up with ease; of course he would want someone by his side who was capable of doing the same thing.

And he was a model, for goodness sake. A model. He had told me he was an event planner, and, sure, that might have been part of his life, but it was clear that his dazzling good looks were about more than just his personal life. Why would a model want to be with someone like me? When I pictured a model, I pictured someone with a gorgeous, confident girl on his arm—an actress, a musician, maybe. Not someone like me, someone who ran a bookstore in a small town and had more sweaters than sexy dresses.

I glanced up at the tree we had picked out together, and I felt a pang in my chest when I remembered how much fun we’d had that day. How easy it felt to be with him, how soft and gentle that night had been. How much I wanted to share nights with that like him again.

But it could have just been a break from reality for him, a break from his real life as the sexy model he so obviously was. And now he had succeeded in keeping the store open. Would he just be gone? My heart twisted in my chest at the thought. I could hardly stand the idea, but there was no way to guarantee that he would be sticking around. This could all have been some kind of game to him, and now he had won it, he would return to what he had known before.

Mia bumped her head against my legs, and I reached down to pet her. He had seemed so comfortable here, but would he be comfortable staying? It would be a lot, to ask him to leave that life behind to be in a place like Mastin Falls. Hardly what he was used to.