Dirty Dealers

I quickly lower Kass, who covers her mouth as she laughs. “Sorry!”

Taking her hand, I lead her through the store. She bumps into a table, and squeaks a little “Whoops.”

I reach back and help her straighten it. “The place is yours to explore.”

Walking through the rows, she lightly traces her fingers along the spines of the shelved books. I watch her a moment before slipping down a parallel row and stepping into her path when she reaches the end. She walks right into me and laughs as she hugs my waist.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and I kiss the top of her head owning the joy simmering in my chest, knowing I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her this happy as long as I can.

The Truth

Kass

He got me.

Logan is huge and strong and fierce. He takes orders, and he gives them equally well. He’ll take a bullet. He’s trained to kill. He has killed men in the line of duty… And yet he goes through the trouble of finding this little bookstore, bringing me here because he knows it will make me happy.

Never in a million years would I have expected it to play out this way. I’m completely caught in the most incredibly heartbreaking way imaginable, and I can’t bring myself to say the words.

I’m standing here, surrounded by the smell of old paper and the warmth of my favorite characters, and all I want to do is keep going as long as I possibly can, even if the clock is ticking down on how much longer I can hide. I can’t bear the way he’ll look at me once he knows. Everything will change, and it breaks my heart.

Taking a volume off the shelf, I hold it to my nose, my chest. It’s too soon. I’m not ready…

“What’s that?” Logan is with me, and a smile is in his voice. “Monster: An Illustrated History of the Cockroach. Unexpected…”

My cheeks heat, and I put it back. “I didn’t read the title,” I say softly. “I was… just thinking.”

“Do you want to buy something?” My hand is engulfed in his larger one again, and he’s leading me through the store. “We’ve been here a half hour, and you’ve only walked around touching and smelling things.”

“We book people are a strange folk,” I say, smiling up at him.

He pulls me close. It’s an automatic gesture I’ve quickly grown to love. “You’re not so strange.” His voice is warm. “But I do think the shopkeeper is ready to close up.”

“After our grand entrance?” I pretend to be offended.

“I think especially after that.”

I can’t keep the smile off my face. I have no idea how to respond, but I’ll be damned if I kill this moment. “Pick something for me,” I say. “What’s your favorite book?”

“Well,” he steps back still holding my hands. “How about this?”

He places a thick tome in my hand, and my nose wrinkles.

“Not a Game of Thrones fan?”

“Too depressing. Pick something else. Something for us.”

He chuckles stepping away again, taking the heavy book. He’s back just as fast and now I’m holding a skinny one.

“How’s that?” he says.

My insides drop along with my chin, but I hold on a bit longer. “It’s perfect,” I say, forcing a smile.

He kisses my head. “We can read them and decide which one we like best.”

I smile, and he takes it from me to the register.

“I should have known.” The woman I assume is the shop owner greets him. “Poems of Rumi. This edition has illustrations.”