Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 28810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
A stone book-shaped waterfall stood guard at the center, with streams falling down its pages.
The black “road” design in the floor led me toward the romance floor.
With shelves that glowed in soft pink, this floor was more than ten times the size of my entire store.
There was an entire wall dedicated to blind-date books, reading rooms with plush bean bags and chaises, a private tea area for historical romances, and a coffee bar that overlooked the staircase.
It was like someone plucked all my wildest dreams from my head and brought them to life—for someone else.
I couldn’t blame readers for choosing this over me…
Feeling defeated, I walked over to the tea bar and took a seat.
“Welcome to Romance Avenue at Sinclair Street, miss!” The barista beamed as she slid me a menu. “I’m looking forward to serving you today.”
“Thank you.” I feigned a smile as I looked over the menu.
All the drinks were named after classic romance novels, and the treats were dedicated to the top authors.
This is perfect, too…
“To kick off the autumn season, we’re serving samples of Apple Cinnamon Grovel pie. Would you like a slice?”
“No, that’s okay.” I slid the menu back to her. “I, uh, I don’t feel like eating anymore.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll be here for you whenever that changes.”
I slid off the stool. Then I continued my tour, feeding my heart into the grinder with every step.
“Excuse me, miss?” Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Yes?” I spun around to see an employee.
“Just letting you know we’re doing a Nora Roberts reading in an hour if you’re interested.”
“Nora Roberts?” I gasped. “Like the Nora Roberts is coming here?”
“Well, not until next year.” She shrugged, handing me a booklet. “This is a fan reading. If you’re into thrillers, J.D. Robb will be here in the flesh next week, though.”
I arched a brow. “You do know that Nora Roberts and J.D. Robb are the same person, right?”
“Ha! Nora Roberts would never waste her time penning futuristic thrillers.” She patted my shoulder. “I’m an expert in all things authors, trust me.”
I held back a sigh as she walked away.
Taking one last lap around the pink floor, I gathered the pieces of my heart that weren’t shattered and forced myself to leave.
At least the readers will get a happy ending…
THE INDIE
SUMMER
Later That Weekend
Itossed my favorite bookends into a box and sealed it tightly. Then I tore down the pink drapes that hung over a reading nook and stuffed them into a plastic bag.
I walked over to the “Readers Behaving Badly Wall” and snatched down photos—tossing them into the trash. When I reached Adrian’s, I stuffed it into my pocket.
He’s still good late-night fantasy material…
There was no use in delaying the inevitable.
I had thirteen days left this month, and I couldn’t attract enough customers to cover another rent charge. I was hoping the landlord would let me break the lease, but that was a problem for another day.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Some poor confused soul rang our doorbell.
“We’re closed!” I called out. “Try the bookstore across the street!”
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“We’re freakin’ closed!” I shouted louder. “Go across the damn street!”
Ding! Ding! Ding!
“Ugh!” I jumped down from my chair and stormed over to the door.
“We’re out of business!” I yelled as I swung it open. “We…”
My voice trailed off at the sight of Adrian wearing something I’d never seen him wear before. A black T-shirt that clung to his muscles in all the best places, and a pair of dark blue jeans.
He was also holding a bouquet of red roses.
“We’re closed,” I said, my voice cracking. “Sinclair Street Books should have everything you need.”
“If that were the case, you’d be over there…” He looked into my eyes. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
“Are you going to make me ask twice?”
I held the door open for him, and he moved inside.
“Make whatever you have to say quick,” I said, locking it behind him. “My new boyfriend is coming to help me move, and it’d be really weird seeing you in here.”
“I’m really tired of you making up pretend boyfriends,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s unnecessary, and it makes me jealous.”
“Well, having a successful bookstore makes me jealous, so I guess we can both live our lives with things we can’t have.” I shrugged. “What do you want?”
“You.”
Silence.
“Um…” I shook my head as he set the flowers on the chair next to me. “Well, seeing as though I didn’t even want to go on a date with you, I—”
“This is what’s about to happen, Summer Connors.” He pressed his finger against my lips. “I’m going to push you against that pink wall, and we’re going to pick up where we left off in that alley weeks ago.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
“You’re going to let me fuck you until you scream my name, until you don’t have to fantasize about fake book boyfriends anymore, and then after I eat your pussy, you’re going to talk to me.”