Page 2 of Austin

Damn, I should have visited this bookstore weeks ago.

“What do you have in mind for me?” I ask, still grinning from ear to ear in spite of my best efforts. “Just out of curiosity. Let’s see how good this sixth sense is.”

Now she’s smiling, too. And Jesus, what a smile. I thought I liked the serious, down-to-business look that I saw when she was behind the counter helping those other ladies, but I was wrong. This is better.

“I think something a little truer to life,” she says, placing a finger with dark purple nail polish against her full lips. “Maybe something mysterious… maybe a little darker. Maybe… have you heard of Theodore Dreiser?”

“Dreiser, yeah,” I don’t even try to hide my surprise. “I readAn American Tragedyin college and loved it. Wow. That’s pretty impressive.”

She shrugs. “Like you said, it’s kind of a sixth sense. We have a copy ofSister Carrieby Dreiser if you’re interested sometime. Different vibe fromAn American Tragedy, but still really good. I can show you but—oh, wait. You said you were here for something else, didn’t you?” She winks. “Definitely not a book about plays, though.”

I snort. “Right. A playbook—or even just a thick notebook, if you have something like that. And I’ll take the Dreiser book, too.”

“Perfect,” she lights up as she starts down the aisle, motioning for me to follow. “I knew you had good taste when I saw you walk in. Let’s see what we can find.”

“I thought you said I looked athletic when I walked in,” I tease.

“The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive. You’ve proved your good taste with Dreiser.” She turns to give me a mischievous smile over her shoulder. “Just promise you won’t go boating with any strangers.”

Yeah, I’m a fan of her quick, sharp wit. “Just one of the many things he’s written about that I’ll try to avoid,” I shoot back.

This girl is cracking me up and I can’t get enough. Is this what people mean when they talk about having an instant connection with someone, because damn—I think I might be addicted to this gorgeous woman and her spitfire personality.

2

CASSY

I watch the hot hockey coach walk out the door and try to keep myself from checking out his ass.

Just kidding. I’m totally checking out his ass. I’m not typically attracted to jocks, but good lord, this guy is freaking hot. Dark hair, just the right amount of scruff, and muscles for days… yes, I think I might need to re-evaluate my type of guy.

Lord knows I haven’t had much luck with the brooding, sensitive, artsy guys I’ve dated before.

I sigh, turning away from the most perfectly muscular hockey butt I’ve ever seen and walk back behind my counter where I should be, anyway. I hope he wasn’t offended when I said he looked athletic. I mean, it’s not a lie—the guy isbuilt. And then when I joked about the boat thing? What was I even thinking?

Thinking I was just shocked to find a guy whose idea of a great book isn’tThe Da Vinci Code, for starters.

Not that I have anything against books that become the flavor of the month, but I prefer to dig a little deeper for my favorites. If that makes me a book snob, so be it. I’ll keep rooting for the underdog and will happily appreciate a guy who does the same.

Like the hot hockey coach.

Why didn’t I at least find out his name? Or try to be a little less snarky? A little less… me. Can I please just have a do-over?

I huff out a short breath and lean heavily against the cash register, willing the hot, funny coach with the easy, handsome smile to turn around and come back in.

Not going to happen, though. That would be too easy, too serendipitous. In other words, it would be the exact opposite of how my life works.

Which is fine. It’s not like we would have had anything in common, anyway. Well, aside from an appreciation of Theodore Dreiser, but that could only sustain a conversation for so long, right?

The door opens and I catch my breath as I look up and squint against the afternoon sun, wondering if maybe, just this once, my luck might have changed.

“Sorry, dear,” the older woman I was helping earlier smiles from the doorway. “Did I happen to leave my glasses in here? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.”

Because of course my luck hasn’t changed. Did I really think it would?

I look around on the counter in front of me, then force a smile. “Found them,” I say, picking the glasses up and walking them over to her. “Here you go. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thank you, young lady. I hope you enjoy your day, too.”

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