Page 166 of Worth the Trip

She got two steps.

I caught her fingers.

She looked back. “What?”

“I wasn’t done holding that.”

“Clingy.”

“Attentive.”

“You’ve touched me every six minutes since we woke up.”

“That interval seems high. I’ll improve.”

My thumb moved over the inside of her wrist.

She shifted closer.

“See?”

“Operational adjustment.”

We moved through the store at her pace. Nolani opened books to random pages, read a paragraph or two, then either kept them or returned them to the shelf. She moved differently in bookstores. Slower. Curious. No clock in her face.

I liked that.

I also liked her in my hoodie.

Both could be true.

She looked up and caught me staring from the other side of a display.

“Are you shopping or conducting surveillance?”

“Both.”

“That sounds inefficient.”

“I can select literature and appreciate my woman simultaneously.”

“You haven’t looked at a shelf in five minutes.”

“I found my favorite story when we walked in.”

Her face warmed.

Yeah.

Still had it.

“You’re very pleased with yourself.”

“I’m in a committed relationship with a beautiful woman who makes ice cream and reads voluntarily. Circumstances support confidence.”

“We’ve been committed for less than twenty-four hours.”

“And performance been exceptional the entire time.”