Page 33 of Love on the Run

Wow. So this was what it felt like to be speechless. He’d put her in her place, and her lips bloomed into a grin. “I love that. Good for you.”

“I don’t need a gold star,” Beau said, completely bored with the idea of being rewarded for something that was expected of him as a business owner.

Anna turned in her seat to fully face him. “I have an idea.”

“An idea like the one that got me on this trip? I’ll pass.”

“Stop acting like you’re not having fun. How about you pick out a book for me, and I’ll pick out a book for you?”

Beau pointed to the shop entrance. “I guarantee there isn’t a single book in that place I’ll like. You’re setting yourself up for failure. Plus, why would you trust me to pick out a decent book for you? I don’t even know you that well.”

“What’s my favorite color?” Anna quickly asked.

“Pink,” Beau answered immediately. “That’s not fair. You’re kinda loud about it.”

Ignoring his pessimism, Anna continued. “What are three things I love?”

“Fashion, love, and God.”

Anna stared at him as the accuracy of his answersank in. Those were the exact things she would have listed as her top three, though, not in that order.

When she didn’t speak, Beau shifted in his seat. “Those were easy questions. I don’t know anything else about you.”

There was a single, tiny, brave bone somewhere in her body that wanted to call him out. Beau didn’t always speak, but he heard everything. How many things had he learned about her over the years and catalogued away?

“Okay. So are you going to buy me a book? If you do, you can decide what we do today besides ice skating,” she offered. A tiny thrill shot up her spine. Letting Beau make the plans could either be fun or terrifying.

Beau slid his hat back onto his head and leaned the seat up. “Let’s go find some books.”

Chapter 11

Beau

This whole trip was full of firsts. Stepping into a bookstore wasn’t on Beau’s bucket list, but here he was, brushing shoulders with smelly literature.

Anna, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree when she stepped into the cabin that had once been a home. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered. “Look at this place!”

“This is not a joke. This is a nightmare,” Beau said.

Anna bumped his shoulder. Well, her shoulder bumped against his arm because of the height difference. “Stop being dramatic. Go find my book.”

Beau inhaled a deep breath and immediately regretted it. The musty smell of decaying words lodged in his nose. “Let’s get this over with.”

Shelves lined the walls, and freestanding shelveswere positioned in the middle of each tiny room. Labels were taped to the tops of the shelves, and he scanned the ones in the first room.

How were there this many books?

Think. What would Anna like?

He scanned the labels as he passed.

True crime? No.

Biography? No.

New Age? What did that even mean?

He wandered through a few rooms before seeing the first sign for romance.

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