Page 99 of Will Bark for Pizza
He looked up at the top shelf in the paranormal romance section, as though someone stood there talking to him. His head tilted at that familiar sharp angle as I approached.
“You better not be making friends with that fucking spider?—”
As I approached him, I caught a whiff of something sweet. Something floral. Somethingfamiliar.
The hairs stood on my arms, as though I stood near a spot where lightning recently struck. I dropped my hand to my chest, feeling it fill with warmth.
“Mom?”
The bells jingled overhead, startling me from my trance.
“Special delivery for Kira Mason.”
Husker sprinted toward the front, reaching Beckett two seconds before he pulled the door closed behind him.
I glanced once more toward the shelf that heldmybooks, and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here, Mom.”
“Hey, Husker.”
“I wasn’t expecting you,” I said, forcing myself to walk slowly despite the urge to copy my dog and run right into Beckett’s arms.
“Aspen asked if I’d drop off some cupcakes,” he said. “She said she’s bringing the rest shortly.”
“Thank you,” I said, struggling to meet his gaze for more than half a second at a time. I might have only known this man for a week, but I was past being able to pretend I wasn’t catching feelings. I’d take the secret to my grave, but the lie I told myself wasn’t sticking anymore.
“You okay?” he asked, sounding like he meant it.
I moved behind the counter to unbox the cupcakes, desperate for the physical barrier between us so I didn’t make any reckless decisions when it came to those very strong, very warm, very capable arms.
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’d really like to pretend none of that happened,” I said, plating the cupcakes.
My finger slipped and stole a smudge of frosting on accident. I automatically brought it to my lips and sucked the frosting away, realizing my mistake only when I caught Beckett staring.
“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and turning his back to me. “The shelves are fuller than I thought they’d be.”
“Sale starts tomorrow.”
“Right.”
“Would you believe there are more boxes of books upstairs?”
“Really?”
“Mom used to get deliveries almost daily. That was my favorite part of being here, opening the boxes to see all the new books. It was like a treasure hunt.”
“You sure you don’t want the bookstore? I hear the new landlord’s a really nice guy.”
“You’re sweet,” I said, setting aside a vanilla cupcake on a small plate and tearing off a corner for Husker. “But it wouldn’t work.”
The conversation between Dad and Pauline replayed in my mind, reminding me just how impossible it was. I had money, especially after this latest book release, but if I burned through half of it just to get the business back in the black, I wouldn’t last the summer. Mom had good years, but I remember her stressing about the years when the profit was razor thin at best.
“What if itcouldwork?”
Before I could give Beckett an answer, the bells jingled over the front door.
