Page 106 of Will Bark for Pizza
No, Mom is laughing.
Mom, this is serious.
There’s bacon.
Downstairs.
“You want bacon, don’t you?”
OMG, Mom!
“Did you just roll your— No, that’s impossible.”
Open the door.
Open the door.
Open the door.
“Go on.”
I’m free!
Bacon, here I come!
THIRTY-ONE
BECKETT
“I knewthere were a lot of boxes up here, but holy hell, I had no idea there werethismany.”
Kira pressed her fingers into both temples as we stood at the entrance to the upstairs apartment. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her arms were covered in dust, and she wore a bedazzled #TeamMateo T-shirt one of the book club members gifted her yesterday. She looked ready to tackle anything, but the bags under her eyes suggested she didn’t sleep much last night.
“These are all books?” I asked.
“Yeah, looks like it.”
“I’ll get them moved downstairs,” I said, reaching for my phone and shooting both Luke and Connor a text to see if they were free to stop over to help, promising some of the lunch I brought the army of helpers currently downstairs doing inventory.
“Don’t you have a job?” The twinkle in her Coloradoblue sky eyes suggested teasing, but the warm smile spread across her lips showed gratitude.
“I’m on my lunch break.”
“Long lunch break,” Kira pointed out, opening a box and pulling out a paperback to examine it.
I’d been at Brenda’s Book Nook for almost two hours. Long enough for the group to decide the name of the store would stay the same, no matter how many changes they decided to make inside. It sounded like a lot to undo all of Margene’s unpopularimprovements.
“My boss is pretty lenient.”
“Sounds like a good boss,” she said, flipping to the copyright page. Her carefree smile fell into a frown.
“What?”
“Thisnewbook is four years old. It’s been upstairs since Mom died.” Kira gripped the book so tightly her knuckles turned white. It seemed as though she were fighting the impulse to rip the book in two.
I was fighting the impulse to gather her into my arms.
As much as I wanted to comfort her, I knew where that would lead. It was a fucking miracle we didn’t end up making out the other night before Nana interrupted us. Or more. How many times had I caught Kira staring at my lips—wetting her own in invitation—since the book club meeting just yesterday afternoon?
