The Bachelor on the Shelf (Reindeer Falls)

Maybe I’ll get really lucky and hit an orgasm grand slam.

Chapter Nine

The thing about Reindeer Falls is that there are so many special things to do and places to visit it’s next to impossible to do them all, especially during the holidays. Still, when Carter texts me asking where we should have our next date—next fake date, I remind myself, since he forgot to type the word—I know exactly where I want to go.

The floating bookstore.

Otherwise known as Riverboat Books.

Riverboat Books is the kind of bookstore that looks like it was pulled straight out of Beauty and the Beast. Specifically, it looks like it was modeled after the library that the Beast shows Belle. Which sounds odd, maybe, since the bookstore is inside of an old riverboat as opposed to a towering castle. Then again, the dock ramps are a little bit like a castle drawbridge, if you’re willing to use your imagination. Which anyone entering a bookstore should be.

When I watched Beauty and the Beast as a kid, I knew immediately what my true love was going to be. No, not a giant, furry man who I turned into a prince with my love, but a place where books surrounded me. Here, in Reindeer Falls, that means my true love takes two forms: the library, and Riverboat Books.

I expect Carter to fight me on it. Not because I still think he’s strictly a sports kind of guy, but because wandering around a bookstore might not seem like the kind of Christmas romance that he’s feeding his followers about us. But he jumps at the chance, texting back that it’s a great idea and he’ll pick me up later.

This leaves me to pick an outfit. I decide on a pair of skinny jeans and a form-fitting cream sweater, then add cute flats and jewelry. It’s dressed up but informal.

And I think this is as ‘sexy girl’ as I can get in the middle of a Michigan winter.

Carter, of course, looks perfect when he arrives at my door. Another sweater, though this one’s a light caramel shade and looks like cashmere. I can’t decide if I like him better in sweaters or his tight workout shirts, and I realize too late that I’m staring when he clears his throat.

“Already objectifying me,” he teases. “I thought I was getting involved with a respectful girl, you know.”

I toss my hair over my shoulder. “I’m very respectful. I was just, uh, distracted. By the snow.”

He holds my gaze for a beat before slowly tilting his head to the view out my front door. The view of clear skies, nary a falling snowflake in sight.

“Sure you were,” he says, bending over to give Rudy a few head scratches.

When he stands up, he’s suddenly closer. There’s the smell of his cologne again, and my fingers immediately itch to rip that sweater off and get my hands on his chest again. I tip my head back to look at him, finding his lips hovering right above mine.

“You know, we are engaged,” he says, voice low. “So, if you wanted to kiss me hello, you’d be welcome to.”

I swallow. I should kiss him. Because now that I’ve decided that I’m having a “fling” with Carter, I feel more free to enjoy it. Why shouldn’t I kiss him? We could skip the date altogether and just spend the night enjoying each other.

“Or are you more turned on by the books we’re going to go see?” Carter teases, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Just the small touch makes me shiver.

But of course.

Carter’s a man, but he’s also a man on a mission. He needs the date for social media content.

The sex is just a bonus for him.

“Right,” I say quickly. “Let’s go.” I nudge past him, glancing over my shoulder as I wave bye to Rudy. “Be good, Rudy!” I shout, my voice a little louder than it should be.

Fuck, how do guys make this whole player thing look so easy? I need to recover my cool. I need to be effortless like the heroines in the romance novels Maggie loves so much.

Except they’re usually hot messes, so never mind.

“So what’s so great about this bookstore?” Carter asks me once we’re in his car and on the road. “It’s new, right?”

“The boat has always been there, but a few years ago someone bought it and remodeled it. Turned it into a bookstore and permanently docked it,” I explain. “This adorable older couple owns it, and they’ve really made it something special. You’ll see.”

“I thought you might be anti-bookstore,” he says with an easy smile. “Being a librarian.”

“No, no.” I shake my head. “Oh, no. If there’s books, I’m there. Books are everything to me. Libraries, bookstores, the bookshelf at Goodwill, I’ll stop at all of them.”