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"Betty keeps beating me at mahjong. He can fix that." She winks at me and then slips her purse off my arm onto hers and strolls toward the car, leaving me gaping after her in shock. Good grief. She wants Finn to hack mahjong so she can beat Betty.
My aunt isn't incorrigible. She's whatever comes after that.
"I want to be her when I'm old," I whisper to the sky and then laugh to myself.
Movement across the parking lot captures my attention and I shift my focus in that direction. My smile slips when I see the same odd man from the bookstore this morning walking toward a sleek black town car.
A shiver rips through me at the sight of him.
He turns in my direction, his gaze landing on me. He's too far away to see his expression, but he lifts his hand in a wave of acknowledgment. I don't wave back. I pretend not to notice and hurry to catch up with Aunt Ophelia, my heart pounding as anxiety churns through me.
What is he doing here? Is hefollowingme?
"Don't be silly," I mumble to myself, fumbling for the keyfob to unlock the doors. "No one is following you."
"What's that, dear?" Aunt Ophelia asks.
"Nothing," I say weakly.
I don't breathe again until we're in the car with the doors locked. When I look in the rearview mirror, his car is gone. We're alone in the parking lot.
Jeez. Maybe I need to stop reading mafia romance. It's making me paranoid.
Except…I don't feel paranoid.
"We need to talk about this book," Finn growls, dropping it on the counter in front of me as soon as there's a lull between customers late in the morning. Maddie is off on her honeymoon, Allie had to fly back home, and our part-time, afterschool help is off for standardized testing, so Corinne and I are running the place ourselves. I work Monday through Friday, and she works Thursday through Sunday so I'm home with Aunt Ophelia on weekends. It's been a hectic morning.
I jump a foot in the air, nearly falling off my stool. "Jesus Christ, super-spy Finn Taylor!" I scrunch my nose up to glare at him. "Give a girl a heart attack, why don't you?"
He eyes me levelly. Mostly. A fire burns in those green pools, raging like a midnight inferno. My stupid-hot biker is not very happy with me right now.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, trying to fight a smile.
"You don't like the book?" I ask sweetly.
"This book is not like the others, Scarlett," he growls. "I don't like it. He's a lying, manipulative asshole who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as a woman." His gaze flits across my face, his palms planted on the counter. "And he isn't in the mafia."
"But readers love him, Finn," I tease. Truthfully, everyone hates the book for the exact reasons he mentioned. Reviewers decimated it for being misogynistic propaganda masquerading as romance. But Finn came in being all hot and bossy this morning, so I wanted to make him squirm a little.
He makes a distressed sound. "Youlike this book?"
"Dark romance is still romance."
He narrows his eyes on me. "I didn't ask about dark romance, pretty baby. I asked about this book. Do you find this book romantic?" he asks, his voice soft. "Is this how you think you should be treated by a man?"
"No," I whisper.
"Good," he growls, satisfaction flaring in his eyes. "Because this is bullshit. No one worthy of you should ever treat you like less than the absolute fucking goddess you are, Scarlett. A man who deserves you fights for you. He doesn't cheat. He doesn't lie. He doesn't manipulate. And he damn sure doesn't run."
I swallow hard, searching for a response, but none comes. My gaze tangles with his and I get lost in the sincerity blazing in his eyes. He means every word he just spoke.
He thinks I'm a goddess. Oh, my goodness.
"And just in case it isn't clear, pretty baby," he says, leaning across the counter toward me, his voice pitched so low it grates against my womb. "I'm not running." His lips brush my cheek in a featherlight touch. Little bursts of energy erupt against my skin and then sink bone-deep, threatening to melt me into a little puddle of wicked delight.
I bite my lip, fighting the urge to moan his name.
"Pick a different book and stop fucking with me," he says, gently placing a finger under my chin to close my mouth. "I like the other ones better."
