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"You noticed?"
"You didn’t think when you asked me to meet you at the bookshop, I wouldn’t?" She tips up her chin. "Or the fact you decided to buy out the shop? I don’t think I need to ask why you did it. I already know you found out the financial troubles she was having, and you took it upon yourself to help her."
"And you’re not pissed off about it?" I ask carefully.
"I wanted to be." She half smiles. "I almost was, if I'm honest, but I realized you did it because you could."
I nod.
"Because you wanted to help her."
I nod again.
"Because you wanted to make an impression on me?"
"Well, that wasn’t to make an impression on you."
"It wasn’t?" She frowns.
I shake my head. "But I’m hoping this will. I bought the store so I could gift it to you, so you could run it and do what you want with it."
"What?" She gapes.
"You love reading spicy novels. Grams loved them, too. She often told me, after Grandad died, they were her solace. She found friends among the pages, felt herself healing as she read about the journeys of the characters. Then, she got a new lease on life when she made friends amongst the book community. Her book club was very dear to her. And I’m hoping you can run this bookshop in her memory."
Her chin trembles. "I’d love to, of course."
"Would you hate it if I told you I also bought out a bookshop in London, which I’d love for you to rebrand and take over? Make it into a chain, you know?" I say nonchalantly.
"London?" She bites down on her lower lip. "You want me to run a bookshop in London?"
"Yep, come up with a name, and brand the two shops, then manage them as a franchise?"
"So you want me to spend time between L.A. and London?"
"I want you to spend time with me." I take her hands in mine. "How does that sound?"
"It’s something I need to think about."
"Of course."
"I don’t make any decision without first thinking it over, doing my due diligence, if you know what I mean?"
"Whatever works for you." I run my thumb over her rings, and a fierce satisfaction grips me.
"You’re very accommodating," she murmurs.
"I’m learning to be patient."
"Not that patient." She tugs her hand from mine then places her palm on my crotch. My already thickening cock extends. She squeezes down, and a growl rumbles up my chest.
"And here I’m trying to be good to you."
"The only way you can be good to me is by being very bad" —her smile widens—"in bed, that is."
"Your wish is my command." I place my hand over hers. With my other, I cup her cheek. "You’re sure you’re not angry with me?"
She shakes her head.
