Page 42 of Like A Daydream
“I could show you,” he whispers, voice a rasp in her ear and sending a shot of heat down her spine. And she’s ready to let him, for goodness sakethis man. She’s not capable of coherent thought, let alone putting voice to how badly she wants to experience what he’s offering. His fingers slide higher under her shirt, stopping just above her belly button, and she shivers.
“I –” she cuts off, swallowing hard, she grabs the book wither free hand, lifting it between them like a shield. “Customer. Have a customer.”
Andrew jolts back, as if he’s finally remembering where they are, and he gives her space, which she’s desperately in need of.
She darts out of the stock room, hoping that she doesn’t look like the absolute mess he’s made her – without eventouching her,like she’s some sort of unexperienced teenager again—and hands the book to the teenager who had asked for it.
The kid doesn’t even end up buying it, leaving it for her to find an hour later on a random shelf in the World War Two section.
Andrew glances her way from the door as he clocks out, heat and desire in his eyes unmistakable, even from across the room.
“I’ll drop Harper off at your house,” he says, then he’s stepping out the door and Cara is coming in and taking stock of Danielle’s appearance.
“What on earth happened to you?” she asks, raising a brow.
Danielle nods in the direction that Andrew just went, voice breathy as she speaks. “He did.”
Danielle closes the store a couple of hours early, since they made their sales for the day, and she heads home. She’s ready for some alone time, and has also been obsessively checking her phone for texts from Andrew to make sure that Harper isn’t being a complete disaster.
Erick had dropped her off after breakfast, and she had sat at her normal table coloring and making a list of books that she wanted to read while she waited for Andrew to be ready to take her for ice cream.
Harper had left without so much as a look back at Danielle, holding Andrew’s hand in hers as they took off down the sidewalk to the ice cream shop. She had texted him her address, and he had replied to tell her that he would drop her off later, but since then she hasn’t heard anything.
It’s only four in the afternoon, and she knows that she would have heard from him if something had come up. Even though she knows that, she can’t help but be worried that she’ll miss something. Harper hasn’t been away from her for the last three weeks, and she’s not sure how this is all going to shake out.
When she gets home, it’s only to find Erick waiting on the porch with her parents. The conversation they’re having looks tense, and Danielle is wondering if she can slowly back out of her driveway and escape before they notice.
Just as she puts her car back into reverse, Erick looks up in her direction and waves.
“Shit,” she mutters, throwing her car into park and turning the ignition off. “So much for a bath and Netflix.”
She gets out of her car and heads to her porch, pulling a smile on as she does.
“You three look cozy,” she says, “did some other life-altering event happen while I was at work that all three of you need to tell me about?”
“Where’s Harper?” her mom asks, instead of a hello.
“My… friend,” Danielle says, unsure if that’s what she and Andrew are but reading the room and deciding that’s the better word, “took her for ice cream.”
“A friend?” Erick asks.
“Andrew Fisher,” Danielle answers, unlocking her front door and holding it open so the three of them can step inside. “I’ll grab us some drinks.”
“The NHL player?” her dad asks, eyes wide.
“The same,” Danielle replies, nodding. “He’s been helping out at the bookstore and Harper asked if they could go get ice cream. I said yes, and was hoping to have a night to myself.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” her dad asks. “We heard about what happened in Raleigh a few weeks ago.”
This mysterious thing that Andrew hasn’t told her keeps popping up everywhere, it seems. It must have been a big deal for her parents to have heard about it.
“I trust him,” Danielle says, grabbing a stack of plastic cups, and a pitcher of water from her fridge, “and he loves Harper. I didn’t see the problem.”
“I don’t know if I like this,” Erick says, looking over at Danielle. “I mean, I love the guy, but has he even told you what happened?”
“Bits and pieces,” she shrugs, “it doesn’t matter to me. He’s good at what he does, and he’s really helped us a lot.”
“This won’t take long,” her mom says, taking a seat next to her dad at the table. Eric sits on her dad’s other side.
