Page 89 of Booked on a Feeling

He stepped into the store and let the door close behind him. The bell jingled quietly as though it didn’t want to intrude in their private moment. He came to stand on the other side of the table she was stocking. It was a small table. If she reached out her arm, she would be able to touch him. She wanted to touch him—possibly jump him. So badly. But all she did was stare, drinking in the sight of him. And he stared back at her as though reassuring himself that she was real.

“What are you doing here?” he asked at last.

For some reason, she felt shy about telling him that she was the new owner of Hideaway Bookstore, so she asked back, “What areyoudoing here? It’s the middle of the day.”

Jack’s eyebrows drew down in confusion. “Yes, it is the middle of the day…”

When he didn’t continue, she prompted, “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Is it?” she said like she had wool for brains. She didn’t notice the weekends so much anymore because the bookstore was open all week long. That was the life of a small business owner.

“I actuallywasat work for a few hours,” he added, “but I left to stop by here.”

They had gone full circle. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to… buy a book,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I see.” That made perfect sense. Why else would he be here?

Oh, my God.This was the coincidental meeting she had been dreaming of, and she was bungling it all up. Didn’t she have a plan for what to do next? Her mind had gone blank. She could… she could…

“Oops.” She reached out and swept some of the new releases off the table.

Jack, being the gentleman he was, quickly knelt and began picking up the books even as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She crouched next to him, planning to pick up the same book he was reaching for, so their hands could accidentally brush against each other. But she hadn’t knocked enough books off the table, and he had already collected all of them. She had no choice but to admit failure and stand when he got to his feet.

“Here you go.” He handed her the books.

With a mumbledthank you,she reached for the books and accidentally brushed her fingers against his. She sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes shot up to hers—fire burning in them. The accidental hand brushing actually happened. This was her chance. She should kiss him so passion could engulf them.

Lizzy burst into tears instead.

She’d missed him so much. She didn’t know how she’d survived the last few months without him. Without hearing his voice. Without seeing his face. She was so happy he was there that it almost hurt.

Suddenly, she was in Jack’s arms, and he cradled her head against his chest. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I’m so sorry.”

And she cried harder. She howled and slobbered. He just held her, smoothing his hand down her hair until she quieted against him.

“I’m—” she hiccupped, “I’m p… proud of you, Jack. I’m so proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone and chasing after the life you want. The folks at McBain are probably patting themselves on the back right now for making the best decision they’ve ever made.”

It had haunted her—her snide remark about his entry-level position. The shame of it had clawed at her insides every night. No matter what, she wanted him to know that she was proud of him.

“Thank you, Lizzy,” he said against her hair. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

She’d gotten into the habit of carrying around a couple of pieces of tissue in her pocket lately because she was prone to unexpected bouts of crying. She pulled one out now and stepped back from Jack to wipe her face and blow her nose. Once she was done, she cleared her throat, feeling self-conscious. Didthey just make up? As friends? Were they back to being friends?God, no. Not the friend zone.

“Tell me about your work,” she said, tossing the tissue in a trash can. Awkward or not, she wanted to know everything. She didn’t want to miss a single moment in Jack’s life. “Is it what you’d hoped for?”

“It’s hard work, but I love the challenge of it.” His eyes sparked with excitement.

“That makes me so happy.” He deserved a job he loved to go into every morning. Just like she did.

He took her hand in his and looked around the store. For a moment, she said nothing as she registered that they were holding hands. Was it a sign that he still wanted to be more than friends? Or was it a friendly type of hand-holding?

“What is it?” she finally asked when Jack continued to look a little lost.

“I wanted to find somewhere for us to sit.” He turned back to her, something sweet stealing into his expression. “There’s so much to talk about.”

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