The Wrong Mr. Right （The Queen's Cove Series #2）
Stephanie Archer
1
Hannah
Only in my worst nightmares would I make eye contact with Wyatt Rhodes while a customer read orc erotica to me.
揌ere,?Don, our town photographer and news blogger, said in my bookstore one morning. He adjusted his reading glasses and ran his finger down the page of the book. 揟his is the part where I knew something was up. Yeuk gave an almighty roar and the surrounding forest shuddered. His gargantuan shaft sprayed semen all over Lady Nicoletta, so much semen. Buckets of棓
揙kay.?I held a hand up. 揑 get it, Don. Please stop.?
揑 saw the cover and I thought it was like Lord of the Rings.?He swallowed and stared out the front window of the shop, lost in thought and shaking his head a little. 揑t抯 not,?he whispered. 揑t抯 really not.?He flipped the page. Movement over his shoulder caught my eye.
Wyatt Rhodes stood shirtless in my bookstore, leaning on a bookshelf and watching us with amused curiosity. My stomach dropped through the floor.
Wyatt Rhodes was in my bookstore.
My gaze snagged on his abs. There were so many of them, stacked on top of each other like books on the shelf beside him. Abs for days.
Wyatt Rhodes owned a surf shop in town but spent most of his time on the water, training to go pro. He was over six feet, and the sun had lightened his dark blond hair. He always needed a haircut. He wore swim shorts and sneakers. He抎 never been in Pemberley Books before and his gaze swept around the small space, taking in the worn carpet, the bookshelves in need of repair, and the stacks of books on the floor. Outside, the mural my mother had commissioned twenty years ago was faded and crumbling.
Embarrassment twinged in my stomach, and my face warmed.
Why was he here? He didn抰 even know my name.
I tucked my hands further into the sleeve of my oversized sweater.
揕isten to this part.?Don cleared his throat. 揕ady Nicoletta shoved the great orc down on the bed with all her might. 慓ive me your seed, orc,挃 he read in a higher-pitched voice, and Wyatt抯 eyebrows shot up.
I was going to die, right here in the bookstore.
Don lowered his voice to read the orc抯 part. 揟iny human, my enormous pleasure wand is far too large for your tiny lady cavern. You will be destroyed by my enormous penis棓
揟hank you, Don.?I snatched the book from him, opened the cash register, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill the store couldn抰 afford to lose.
Don抯 eyes widened when I slapped the money on the counter. 揑 don抰 want a refund.?
A noise that sounded a lot like a snort came from Wyatt, but he covered his mouth with his hand. My gaze stayed glued to Don.
Don gestured at the shelves in the corner. 揑 just want you to move it from the fantasy section. It should be in erotica.?
We didn抰 have an erotica section because we were a small-town bookstore, but I nodded vehemently. Anything to end this interaction. 揑 will, right away. Thank you.?
Don gave me a sidelong look before taking his book back, tucking it safely under his arm and leaving the store.
Ignoring Wyatt still leaning on the bookshelf, looking like a Greek god, I shuffled over to the shelf where the orc books sat and gathered them into my arms. There were six books in the series, and Liya, the other employee here, must have purchased them thinking they were fantasy. I carried them back to the desk and deposited them. I抎 find a spot for them in the sprawling romance section later.
Wyatt still stood there. What did he want? I couldn抰 ignore him forever.
The universe must have heard my wish because the bell on the front door tinkled and Th閞鑣e swept into the store in all her elegance, charisma, and style.
揗y darling Hannah,?she sang, gliding over.
Th閞鑣e Beauchamp was the most elegant woman I抎 ever met. She was French, so she said my name like 慳nnah. She was Black and wore her natural hair in a short, stylish cut, and often painted her mouth in blood red lipstick that looked lovely against her deep skin tone. Th閞鑣e always dressed as if she were about to step into a photoshoot. She was a social media influencer, so brands paid her to travel around the world, be gorgeous, and live a beautiful life.
Today, she wore faded, wide-leg blue jeans which fell above her ankles, a white silk button-up knotted at the waist, and black sandals. She clutched a black velvet bag under one arm and carried a paper shopping bag in the other. Her signature lipstick glowed with life in my shabby little store.
See? Simple, elegant, timeless. Sometimes, I didn抰 know why she was even friends with me. We were so far apart in social status.
Th閞鑣e breezed into the shop, right past Wyatt, and straight toward me. 揃onjour, Wyatt.?