The Bookworm's Guide to Dating (The Bookworm's Guide 1)

It felt like time had frozen. Here, in my truck, everything was completely still, and I was sure she could hear the way my heart was thundering against my chest.

“You mean that, don’t you?” she asked softly, her eyes never leaving mine. Her words didn’t cut the tension in the truck, either.

If anything, they heightened it.

I nodded. It was a tiny, jerky movement that I wasn’t even sure was noticeable.

Kinsley looked down once more, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard.

Without another word, she left the truck, taking all the air with her. It rushed out into the darkness of the late evening, but not even the sound of the truck door slamming behind her cut through the tightness that had my stomach in knots.

I squeezed my eyes shut and hit the button to roll the window down. “Kinsley?”

I opened my eyes in time to see her peer over her shoulder, her features illuminated by the dim porch light over her head.

“What?”

“I’m not working for the next few days. Got some vacation days. If you do get a huge shipment, call me. I’ll come and help.”

“I can’t call you on your days off.”

“Yeah, you can, and please do. Otherwise, I’m just gonna have your brother riding my ass about the house five down from mine that he wants to buy.”

A smile slowly spread across her face. “Okay. If I need help, I’ll call you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Night, Josh.”

I didn’t reply, but I did wait until she was inside and I’d heard the faint click of her lock being turned, followed by the flooding of darkness as her porch light went out.

What in God’s name was I doing?CHAPTER THIRTEEN – KINSLEYrule thirteen: you wouldn’t stop reading mid-chapter. don’t stop talking mid-conversation.The next time Holley told me there was a big shipment coming in, I was going to come down with a violent stomach big.

This shipment wasn’t big. It was freaking huge.

There were boxes upon boxes in the back doorway of the store. I wasn’t even sure I could move amongst them, and the one box I’d managed to lift had weighed at least three sumo wrestlers and a school bus.

Yes, those were valid units of measurements.

Pound and ounces weren’t going to cover this.

I hadn’t wanted to call Josh. I really, really hadn’t, but I was left with no choice. There was no way I could move these boxes, unpack them, and open the store at midday.

I looked up at the sound of four rattling knocks against the front store door.

“It’s me.” Josh’s muffled voice carried through to the storeroom door where I was standing and contemplating all my life choices thus far.

I crossed through the shop and grabbed the keys from the register so I could let him in. The key was large and clunky, and it took me a good thirty seconds to wrestle the old bolts loose before I could even unlock it properly.

Josh looked the door up and down when I opened it. “Is that door to keep people out, or keep bookworms in?”

“If I told you that, I’d have to kill you,” I answered breezily, stepping back to let him in. “But if the worldwide takeover by bookworms originates in Montana, you know the answer.”

He grinned, and it did stupid things to my stomach.

Stupid things I was going to steadfastly ignore today.

Trust me.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he mused through his smile. “Where are all these boxes again?”

“Out the back. Hold on.” I turned and locked the door, then reached for the top bolt.

“Ah, must secure Fort Bookworm.”

“You’re awfully cocky for a man who knows how dangerous I am with a book.” I raised an eyebrow and shot him a look. “Since we’re in a bookstore, you might wanna tone that down a little bit.”

“And you’re awfully cocky for a bookworm who needs my help to move said books.”

I slid the final bolt across and clicked my tongue. I straightened up and turned on my heel, pausing to pull a large hardback from the nearest shelf. Tucking it under my arm, I whistled a merry little tune and headed for the storeroom.

Josh’s laugh filled the entire store, sending an unwelcome tingle down my spine. I didn’t want to react to him the way I did because it was wrong.

Not to mention I hadn’t stopped thinking about what he’d said last night. What he’d meant by saying whoever got me was lucky.

I mean, I knew what he meant, but not what he meant.

He hadn’t just said it. He’d said it with feeling, with something I hadn’t been able to pinpoint.

Something I didn’t understand.

But now, I was wondering if Saylor was right.

Was there something happening between us? Something that had no business happening?

Were there feelings I couldn’t explain? He couldn’t explain?

We didn’t want to explain?