Page 63 of Stolen Vows

Which is ridiculous. It’s just a phone number. Just a way to contact him outside of our weekly coffee walks. But it feels momentous somehow, like a tipping point. A before and after.

Before, when Tuesdays were the only time I got to see him, to talk to him, to be in his orbit. And after, when the possibility of more stretches out before me, vast and thrilling and a little terrifying.

I exhale slowly, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. It’s just a text. A simple, casual check-in. But my fingers tremble slightly as I pull out my phone and open up a new message.

Me: I think Romeo misses you.

I attach a photo of Romeo I took a couple days ago. He’s sitting perfectly by the front door with his leash next to him, his big dark brown eyes reminding me of the cutest little cartoon character.

I hit send before I can second-guess it. I stare at the screen for a long moment, waiting for the little typing bubbles to appear. Waiting for some kind of response, even though I know Ijustsent it and he’s probably busy. Or asleep. Or just not staring at his phone like I am.

Ugh. Why am I so nervous? This is silly—I’mbeing silly.

With a sigh, I lock my phone and toss it on my bed. I have other things to focus on. More important things than obsessively checking for a text back from a man I’ve only known for two months.

Like the profit margins for the bookstore. I force myself to sit down at my desk and open up the spreadsheet I’ve been working on. The numbers blur together as I try to concentrate, but my mind keeps drifting back to Graham. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. The deep, warm sound of his laugh. The easy way we can talk about anything and everything.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts. I need to focus. The bookstore is my dream, my baby. I can’t let myself get distracted by a man, no matter how charming and handsome he may be.

But even as I try to concentrate on the spreadsheet, my mind keeps wandering back to Graham. I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing right now, if he’s thinking about me too.

The ping of my phone startles me out of my reverie. My heart leaps into my throat as I scramble to grab it, nearly knocking over my cup of tea in the process. It’s a text from Graham.

Graham: And you? Do you miss me too?

I stare at the words, a giddy smile spreading across my face.

Me: And if I do?

Graham: Then I would say that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day I walked into your bookstore.

My face flushes hot as I read his message again, butterflies erupting in my stomach. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. Graham Carter, the stoic, mysterious, devastatingly handsome man who’s been starring in my dreams for weeks now, is flirting with me. Over text.

Part of me wants to play it cool, to keep things light and breezy. But a bigger part of me, the part that’s been craving his presence ever since our kiss, wants to dive in headfirst. To match his boldness with my own.

So I do.

Me: Maybe I miss you a little. Just a tiny bit. Barely even noticeable, really.

I hit send with a grin, my heart pounding as I wait for his response. The little typing bubble pops up almost immediately.

Graham: I guess I’ll have to try harder then. Wouldn’t want you forgetting about me between Tuesdays.

A surprised laugh bubbles out of me. Who is this man and what has he done with the serious, intense Graham I’ve come to know? Not that I’m complaining.

Me: You know I’m free Mondays too. And most Wednesday through Saturdays as well.

Graham: Not Sundays?

Me: Sundays are self-care days for me, Romeo, and my kindle.

Graham: Should I be jealous of a kindle?

I huff a small laugh. Romeo watches me from his spot at the foot of my bed, his head resting on his paws, eyes heavy-lidded but alert. The room is dimly lit, my only companion the soft glow of my bedside lamp and the weight of my phone in my hand.

I reread Graham’s last message, biting my lip. The way he phrases it. Direct, dry, but somehow teasing. It sends another ridiculous flutter through my chest.

Me: Absolutely. My Kindle takes care of all my needs.

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