He had closed the distance between them before she’d even reached the middle of the aisle. “You’re early.”
“I thought I would look around for a while,” she said, lips twitching as she glanced at him. “You’re earlier.”
He grinned.
Sonora had disappeared, the curtain behind the desk still swaying. Alex would return to teasing her later if appropriate.
For now, he focused his attention on Yvette. “Have you been in before?”
“A number of times,” she told him. She paused, and Alex smiled when he realized she was taking a deep inhale, appreciation drifting over her face. “I love that smell.”
Alex gestured to the corner of the shop. “I’ve already got a few books picked out, so go ahead and look around. Want me to grab you a cup of tea?”
“Chai if they have it, please.” Without a backward glance, Yvette drifted into the tall stacks with their colourful displays.
He turned to discover Sonora had reappeared, standing behind the counter with one brow raised. “The plot thickens,” she murmured.
He cleared his throat. “Book lovers,” he said in explanation.
“Ah.” Sonora placed her hands on the counter and leaned forward. “Young man.”
The temptation to stand at attention was strong. This woman must’ve been in the military in a past life. “Yes, ma’am?”
“That is a fine young woman.” Her gaze barely flicked toward Yvette before settling on Alex, a very stern expression rising. “Behave.”
“Ma’am, there is nothing you can tell me that my own mother hasn’t already told me, multiple times, especially over the past six months,” Alex assured her.
Which wasn’t a yes, I plan to behave answer, because his list of what might happen over the next just-over-three weeks involved a fair bit of misbehaving. He hoped.
If all went well.
Sonora sighed. “You’re as bad as my granddaughters. Don’t think I didn’t catch that little bit of doublespeak.” She shook her head. “I’ll get you the chai.”
After that, Sonora seemed to have magically vanished. Perhaps, since she’d delivered her warning, she figured it was now on Yvette to take care of herself. Or maybe Sonora figured that while she poked and prodded Ashton as usual, she’d keep an eye on Alex at the same time.
Alex pushed all that aside and went after Yvette.
He found her in the true crime section. “Really?”
She already had three books in her stack. “Malachi Fields orders new mystery titles regularly for me. But this is a wonderful surprise.”
She held up an oversized tome that involved serial killers and cold cases.
“Yvette Wright, are you telling me you like bloodthirsty books?”
“I like an eclectic mix of stories.” She glanced to the side, where two steaming cups sat on the table between their chairs. “Let’s see what you picked out.”
A moment later she’d pushed her bloody books against his chest so she could settle in her chair and snoop through his pile.
Yvette turned over the topmost books and glanced up in surprise. “Fantasy. I never took you for a high-elvish type.”
“Science fiction, science fantasy. High fantasy.” He put her books on the side table, flipping the first one facedown so he didn’t have to look at the cover with its image of blood dripping off a knife.
The glossy paint job made it look a little too real.
“Make believe,” Yvette declared.
“Even the real stuff tends to have a bit of make believe in it.” He leaned back and took the time to admire Yvette while she was busy reading the back-cover copy of his choices.
She’d pulled on a pair of leggings in a snowflake pattern. A blue sweater covered her curves, shadows accentuating her tempting form. Full breasts over a strong torso. Legs that went on for miles. Hands he wanted to feel stroking his chest the way she was running her fingers over the spine of the book—
Focus, dammit. Books, not ogling, were on the current agenda.
He forced his gaze to her face so that when he spoke, their eyes met. “I’ve read some history, but most of it is full of battles or people doing cruel things to others, and it’s not my jam. Which is why fantasy history works better for me.”
“A lot of history is nasty,” she agreed. She sipped on her tea thoughtfully, her gaze drifting over him. “You don’t have to buy me books.”
What?
He must’ve said it out loud because she lowered her cup and leaned forward in her chair, expression concerned.
“I don’t know if we should do this,” Yvette said softly. “I mean, it’s really sweet that you made that desk into something unique. You’ve obviously put a lot of effort into it. I don’t want to knock that. But I’m just not sure this will work…”
“Because our reading choices clash?” Alex chuckled. He put a ton of energy into the sound, because if she called it off, they would be done. He would pursue her whole-heartedly, but only if she wanted to be pursued.
He wanted this to work. He planned on it working, but she had to feel in control.
Yvette eyed him in confusion. “Our reading choices don’t just clash, they’re night and day different. I will tell you right now, I have no interest in any of the books you want to buy.”
“Trust me, I have no intention of reading yours.” He shook his head and offered her a smile. “I’m really surprised, considering both of our jobs involve a fair amount of blood and grossness at times. I expected you to avoid it in your reading. But it is what it is.”
Yvette watched him, waiting.
Alex rested his elbows on his knees. “Here’s the important part. We both read.”
Yvette’s mouth was open, probably in preparation to once again tell him they needed to call this off before they’d even gotten started.
But now, she closed it. A small noise escaped her, sort of like a humph, and she dipped her head. “You’re right.”
“When do you read?” he asked, hope returning as Yvette settled. Thank goodness, she no longer looked about to bolt from the store.
“Whenever I can. Far too much.” Yvette met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m a little skittish. I said I would trust you and give this a try. You’ve obviously not just put effort into this but a good deal of thought.”
“No need to apologize. I get it,” he assured her. “I’m on shaky ground here, as well.”
For a moment they just looked at each other. The soft sound of Christmas carols chimed in the background as the warmth of the bookstore wrapped around them.
“When should I open the next drawer?” Yvette asked.
His heart kicked back into high gear. Good. They were still moving in the right direction. “Day two. Anytime you want tomorrow.”
Her lips twisted slightly. “Let me rephrase the question. You said some drawers I’d open on my own, some with you. What’s tomorrow?”
“On your own.” He should have made it clearer in the first place. “I made a few assumptions, based on typical Heart Falls December activities. Did you plan to help pack holiday hampers for the food bank on Saturday?”
She popped open her phone and checked her calendar. “Yes. I’m off all day.”