Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
What the hell, Chase! Stop it.
I sharply flicked the card with my index finger and nodded. “Thanks. I’ll try not to bug you too often.”
Rett released a soft snort but still avoided meeting my eyes. “I have no worries about that.”
He didn’t think I’d ever use it.
He was probably right.
“All right, well…”
“I need to lock up.” He wanted me gone. Maybe our reactions had been just as uncomfortable for him as it had been for me.
“Right,” I murmured and turned toward the door.
I didn’t stop moving until I was out of the store, in my Bronco, out of town, back up the mountain and back inside my cabin.
Back in my safe space.
Because apparently that bookstore was not that.
CHAPTER 7
Rett
Once again I was going somewhere I wasn’t wanted. I already knew it and was doing it anyway.
Not once had Chase reached out to me in person or via phone. He probably had thrown out my business card the second he left my store three weeks ago.
That was the last time I saw the hibernating bear after he went back up to his mountain cave.
I had put the returned books back on the shelf—still unsigned, of course—and on occasion found myself standing in front of that particular bookshelf. The lie I told myself was I needed to check the stock of both his books and my own, even though I had an excellent point-of-sale system that automatically kept track of inventory.
I would catch myself lost in my own head while running my fingertips lightly along the spines of his books, pretending as if I was dragging my fingers along his warm skin.
Of course, doing that to his books didn’t have the same effect on me as when our arms brushed that night.
Touching him had been like touching fire. Sparks had shot through me, sending scorching flames spiraling from my head to my toes, as well as sending blood running south into my cock.
While my reaction had knocked me for a loop, he seemed deeply troubled with his own reaction to our very simple, but accidental, brush.
Of course I found him attractive. Only his exterior, not his interior. And I hated that I would take any valid excuse to touch him more. With consent, of course.
At the end of each day, once I closed the store, shut down my computer and clipped a leash onto Timber’s collar to take him out for his nightly walk… Once I let myself think back on that very moment… My imagination ran wild and I had a tough time reining it in.
I pondered what it would be like if he said yes to us touching… kissing… even more.
I never had such a single, simple touch affect me so much. So much so, I actually found myself falling into a slight obsession over the man.
If I stood in front of the shelf long enough, I’d eventually select one of his books to pull out and turn it over so I could study the outdated black-and-white picture again.
Taken at a time when he seemed to be a lot happier than he was now.
When he’d most likely been married, but before his husband’s death wrecked him.
Even though we hadn’t discussed it, I assumed that was what made him so anti-social.
Losing his life partner had caused him not only the expected heartache, but it crushed his creativity and even made him run away from his home in New York. Most likely where he’d been surrounded by caring friends and loving family.
Something he did not have here. Somewhere he had no one.
No one to support him. No one for him to talk to. No one to care about him.
Chase was obviously hiding in Eagle’s Landing so he could continue to lick his wounds from a two-year-old loss. Most likely hiding from the people closest to him concerned he hadn’t moved into that fifth stage of grief yet.
I had done more research about the loss of loved ones after the night he showed up for the reading. In addition to what I already knew, I learned the process of grieving was unique to everyone and the stages weren’t set in stone.
When I lost my brother, I apparently had been a textbook case when I went through the five typical stages. But then, I’d never been one to wallow in any kind of sorrow. I had also never been one to scream about life being unfair. I went through every day with my eyes wide open to that fact.
I accepted what I didn’t have the power to change. I did my best to change what I could not accept.
If life was fair, I wouldn’t have lost my brother in the manner I did. I also wouldn’t be alone and would’ve found my soulmate by now. I would be a bigger name in the mystery genre and not have to fight so hard to claim a small corner of it.