The Cinnamon Bun Book Store (Dream Harbor, #2)(73)

‘No way!’

Alex’s smile grew. They’d been lusting after Joe from The Pumpkin Spice Café for months.

‘Yes, way.’

‘It was a good party.’ And it was. Other than avoiding Noah at all costs, Hazel had danced and laughed and basked in the love of her family and friends. In the end she was glad her dad had ambushed her and she even had to admit that she was glad for his summer of clues. She had, after all, had an amazing last two months of her twenties.

If nothing else came of it, at least she had that.

‘Well, I’m here now,’ she said, patting the counter. ‘Let me just put my things down and you can go on break.’ She hustled to the back office to drop off her coat and purse, firing off a quick text to Annie who had rather suspiciously disappeared right around the same time that Mac had last night. So either they’d hooked up or one of them had been murdered. Hazel figured it could have gone either way.

You alive?





Yep





The answer was immediate. Annie was never far from her phone.

How’s Mac?





How would I know?





Hazel laughed to herself, tossing purse, phone, and coat onto the couch. Whatever was going on between her best friend and the bartender was not something she had time to dig into right now.

She looked up and found a precarious stack of books on her desk. What on earth was this? Alex would never leave books in here like this. Certainly not piled up all willy-nilly and about to tip over. Hazel frowned.

‘Hey, Alex,’ she called, sticking her head out of the office door. ‘What is this pile of books?’

‘Oh, those were dropped off for you this morning,’ Alex called back.

‘By who?’

‘Uh ... not really...’ Alex’s voice faded away. ‘Got a customer!’

Hmm. She popped back in the office and eyed the stack. They were a mix of genres and sizes all piled up in the center of her desk. She took the first one off the pile.

There was a dog-eared page.

Her heartbeat immediately ratcheted up.

She opened the book and found a highlighted line.

I met a girl this summer.





Innocuous. Innocent. And yet...

She grabbed the next book.

The kiss was incendiary. He could have sworn his entire body had gone up in flames.





A bit over the top but Hazel knew the feeling.

She grabbed another, working her way down the pile. Each book had a marked page and a highlighted line. Each book set her heart beating faster. This couldn’t be...

Attraction: noun: the action or power of evoking interest, pleasure, or liking for someone or something.





She put down the dictionary and took the next book. A picture book.

‘Will you be my best friend?’ the fox asked the rabbit.

‘But we’re so different,’ said the rabbit.

‘That’s why I like you.’





A scientific journal:

According to a team of scientists led by Dr. Monica Hunter at Yale, romantic love can be broken down into three categories: lust, attraction, and attachment.





The science-fiction novel that had been flying off the shelves:

She brought him back to life, reconstructed him into a better version than the original. And he felt alive. He was alive. He was real.





The latest in the fantasy series Noah had been reading on the boat:

Fierce sea birds swooped from the sky, but he held them back. Anything to protect the princess.





She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her at that. The next book was small and worn; the perfect size to smuggle in a purse. She didn’t know when her hands had started to shake.

He dipped his head between her thighs and he found heaven.





Heat flared in Hazel’s cheeks as she hastily closed that one, not at all surprised to find a half-naked pirate on the front.

The YA novel that was a surprise bestseller last year was next.

‘You’re all I think about. All I want. Me and you until the end.’





Oh, God. This was...

The second to last book. Another romance. Of course.

He realized he loved her and that he probably had all along. But it had snuck up on him somehow even though she’d been perfect from the start.





Hazel gripped the book so hard, the pages crinkled beneath her fingers.

This one had a note at the bottom of the page. Not a note, really. Just a few words.

It’s me this time, ~Noah.





The last book wasn’t a book at all but a weekly planner. Today’s date was circled and in the box someone had penciled in:

Meet me by the water. Tonight. 8:00.



Well, holy shit.

The grand finale.





Noah had paced back and forth in the sand so many times, he’d created a small trench. Maybe he could bury himself in it if Hazel didn’t show up. That would be a good use of his current resources.

No, this was fine. He was fine. Even if Hazel didn’t want him. He’d be ... okay. Well, he’d be pretty damn devastated because he definitely loved this girl and he’d never loved anyone before and he was pretty sure it would hurt like a bitch to have her reject him, but he’d survive. Probably.