Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Emma

A group of teenage girls walked past, erupting into giggles as they glanced between me and the bookstore’s open window.

“Did you see them at the cook-off?”

“So romantic!”

“Totally!”

Their whispers carried on the breeze as they disappeared around the corner. Was there anyone in this town who hadn’t witnessed that kiss? I groaned inwardly. At this rate, it would become local legend.

Pacing the length of Beachy Keen Reads’ counter for the third time in under ten minutes, I flipped through trivia note cards like they’d personally offended me. The questions were solid—balanced, clever, and just tricky enough to trip up anyone who dared to think Jane Austen had only written Pride and Prejudice .

So why did my stomach feel like it had been taken over by a fleet of tap-dancing crabs?

I plopped the cards down on the counter and groaned, glancing at Silvy, who sat perched in her usual spot in the corner of the shop, organizing a display of bookmarks that did not need organizing.

“You’ve been sighing like that all afternoon,” she said without looking up. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to start charging for emotional labor.”

“I’m not sighing,” I shot back, already halfway through another exasperated huff. “And I don’t need emotional labor. I need... ugh.”

“Oh, you need ugh. Very articulate.” She set the bookmarks down and leaned back, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain billionaire chili cook-off competitor, would it?”

I froze, trying to play dumb. “Who?”

“You know, tall, dark, ridiculously good-looking. The one who bribed your dog with scones, gifted you with a first edition book, and has had you doing that dreamy-eyed thing you do when you think no one’s looking for days.”

“I don’t do a dreamy-eyed thing.”

“You absolutely do.”

I scowled, but Silvy only smirked. She wasn’t wrong, either. Wade James—the most irritatingly persistent man in existence—had been taking up far too much space in my head lately. Ever since the cook-off, I couldn’t stop replaying that kiss in my mind.

And he keeps showing up… everywhere.

“Look, he’s just... there, ” I said, gesturing vaguely at nothing. “Existing. Being all... smooth and annoying. He’s probably off somewhere right now, plotting his next grand romantic move to get me to go out with him. Maybe he’ll buy me a yacht next, and park it in the middle of the town square.”

Silvy snickered. “You’re not mad at the idea, though.”

“Yes, I am! And I don’t trust him! He’s too... too rich , too charming, too?—”

“Too good at kissing?”

My face went hot and I stuck my nose in the air primly. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer.”

“That’s all the answer I need.” Silvy chortled, grinning like a cat with a bowl of cream. “Admit it, Em. You like him.”

“No, I don’t. He’s?—”

The bell above the shop door jingled, cutting me off, and I spun around to see the man himself walking in, looking far too smug for someone who wasn’t supposed to exist in my carefully curated world of trivia night and dog hair-covered furniture.

“I’m what?” Wade asked, his deep voice dripping with amusement.

“Late,” I blurted. “We started five minutes ago.”

“Really? Because I didn’t see any trivia games happening when I walked in.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “But if you want to penalize me for tardiness, go ahead. I’m willing to accept my punishment.”

Behind me, Silvy snorted.

“You’re on thin ice, Playboy ,” I muttered, grabbing my note cards and walking around the counter.

“Good thing I’m excellent at skating,” he remarked, falling into step beside me.

* * *

Beachy Keen Reads ended up packed for trivia night, with every table filled and most of the mismatched chairs borrowed from my cottage and Silvy’s apartment down the street. Wade had, of course, claimed the best seat in the room, conveniently located smack in the middle of the store where he could bask in all his smug billionaire glory.

To my utter annoyance, he’d also brought backup. Ryker— my friend and now apparently Wade’s wingman—sat to his right, while my other friend Meg perched beside him with her camera slung across her shoulder.

“What are you even doing here?” I hissed at Wade as I passed his table.

“Participating,” he said innocently, holding up a trivia sheet.

Ryker smirked. “He’s very competitive. You should see him at poker night.”

“Please don’t give him more reasons to stick around,” I said, glaring at Wade.

“Too late,” Wade replied with a grin.

I rolled my eyes and walked to the front of the room, where Silvy was waiting with her own trivia sheet and a pen twirling between her fingers.

“Did he just wink at you?” she whispered as I passed her.

“No.”

“He definitely did.”

I ignored her and cleared my throat, raising my voice to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, folks, welcome to this month’s trivia night! Tonight’s theme is ‘Literature Through the Ages.’ Get ready to put your knowledge of classic novels, contemporary bestsellers, and everything in between to the test.”

The crowd cheered, and I caught Wade smirking at me like he knew all my secrets.

The first round went smoothly—questions about Shakespearean plays, Charles Dickens novels, and the Bront? sisters. Wade’s table wasn’t doing terribly, though I strongly suspected Meg and Ryker were carrying most of the weight.

By round two, the questions got tougher. I threw in a curveball about obscure 19th-century poets and immediately felt guilty when half the room groaned.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” I said, holding up my hands. “I didn’t write the questions. Oh, wait—I did.”

The crowd laughed, and Wade leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Michaels.”

“You think so?” I shot back, my lips twitching.

“Oh, definitely. You’ve got that look—like you’re plotting someone’s downfall.”

“ Your downfall will be a work of art,” I said sweetly, and he laughed, the sound rich and warm and... Gah! Why did his laugh have to be so damn sexy?

That’s when Ryker, apparently not content with just being Wade’s wingman, decided to shake things up. “Let’s make this interesting,” he announced, standing up. “New teams. Wade and Emma as captains.”

“What? No—“ I started, but the crowd was already shuffling around, picking sides like this was some middle school gym class.

“Healthy competition,” Ryker said with a wink as he passed me, and I made a mental note to hide his favorite coffee blend next time he came to the store.

I cleared my throat, trying to maintain some dignity. “Next category: Romance novels!”

The groans from Wade’s team were satisfying, especially when I saw him trying not to look too interested. “In which famous romance novel does the hero tell the heroine ‘I burn for you’ before their first passionate encounter in a library?”

“Ooh, I know this one!” Silvy called out from behind the counter where she was restocking coffee. “The Duke and I!”

“No helping!” I protested, but Wade was already looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“A library, huh?” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

My cheeks warmed slightly as I read the answer—something about Wade’s steady gaze made me unnecessarily conscious of every romance-related question.

“Get a room!” Ryker called out, earning himself an elbow from Meg.

“They have one,” Sandy stage-whispered. “It’s called the rare books section.”

The real chaos though, started when Porky, apparently bored with sitting quietly under my table, decided to liven things up. He developed a particular fondness for snatching Wade’s team’s answer sheets, delivering them straight to my feet with a proud tail wag.

“Traitor,” Wade called out, though he seemed more amused than annoyed.

I scratched Porky’s ears, trying not to smile. “Good boy,” I whispered. He gave me his most innocent look, hind end wiggling furiously, his big brown eyes full of mischief. Clearly, he knew he was causing a scene, and he was loving every minute of it.

* * *

By the time the first trivia round had ended, Wade had settled into a rhythm that was, frankly, infuriating. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was actually... blending in. Like, suspiciously well .

He didn’t seem like a billionaire playing tourist or some out-of-touch suit who thought “Trivia Night” meant a catered event with champagne flutes. No, he sat there like he belonged, laughing along with the locals, making jokes about his pitiful knowledge of 19th-century poets, and—of course—managing to charm literally everyone except me.

And then there was Ryker and Meg. They were practically glowing with their newly engaged bliss, and their dynamic was so relaxed and natural, it was hard not to smile at them. But of course, Ryker being Ryker, he couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

“So, Emma,” Ryker called out during the break as he wandered over to the counter, Meg trailing behind him with a playful grin. “How’s it feel to be hosting trivia night and taming the beast over here?” He jerked his thumb in Wade’s direction, who was busy entertaining an older couple by completely butchering a Shakespeare quote.

“I’m not taming anything,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “In fact, I’m actively discouraging him.”

“Really?” Ryker crossed his arms, giving me that signature grin that always made me feel like I was being teased by an older brother. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s having the time of his life.”

Meg chimed in, her voice warm and full of laughter. “And from where I’m standing, you don’t seem nearly as annoyed as you pretend to be.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m plenty annoyed,” I shot back, though my face was probably betraying me. “And second, what’s he doing here anyway? Don’t you two have billionaire stuff to do? Like... I don’t know, hotel shopping or buying small islands?”

Meg snorted. “Oh yeah, totally. We had a whole island-buying spree planned for tonight, but we decided trivia night was more our speed.”

Ryker grinned. “What can I say? When Wade mentioned it, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see you outwit him in public.”

“Wade mentioned it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at Ryker.

“Yup,” Ryker said, completely unrepentant. “He might have even asked me for a little help studying beforehand.”

“Studying?” I echoed, my voice rising an octave.

“Oh, he was very serious about it,” Ryker continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Wanted to make sure he didn’t embarrass himself in front of you. I gave him a crash course in Austen, Hemingway, and Steinbeck—y’know, the essentials.”

Meg nudged Ryker in the ribs. “You’re exaggerating. All Wade wanted was to brush up on a few things so he could impress you. Which, honestly, is adorable.”

“Adorable?” I repeated, incredulous.

Ryker leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “He’s got it bad, you know.”

“Ryker!” Meg smacked his arm, though she was laughing.

“What?” he said, grinning at her before turning back to me. “I’m just saying—he’s not usually this... invested. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he actually likes you.”

“Yeah, well, if he likes me so much, he can stop bribing my dog,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

“Oh, the scone incident!” Meg exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Wade told us all about that. He said Porky made him work for it, but by the end, they were practically best friends.”

“Porky doesn’t have best friends,” I said flatly. “He has grudges, and he holds them forever.”

“Clearly not,” Ryker said, smirking. “Because if what Wade said is true, your dog’s already halfway in love with him. And let’s be honest, Emma—if Porky approves, the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

“I hate you both,” I said, though the corners of my mouth twitched.

“No, you don’t,” Meg said, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “You just hate that we’re right.”

“I don’t hate that you’re right,” I lied, resisting the urge to stamp my foot like a petulant child.

“Of course not,” Ryker said, rolling his eyes. “Look, Emma, I know you’ve been working hard to prove you’re immune to all things Wade, but I’ve known the guy for years. And trust me—he doesn’t chase people. Not unless they’re worth it.”

“Great. Now I’m a shiny trophy he wants to win. That’s so much better,” I said dryly.

Meg gave me a look that was both amused and sympathetic. “You know that’s not what Ryker means. Wade’s not as shallow as he seems. He just... doesn’t show the real him to a lot of people. But with you? I think he wants to.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Because as much as I wanted to deny it, a tiny part of me wondered if they were right.

Ryker must have seen something in my expression, because his grin softened into something almost serious. “Just… don’t rule it out, okay? You might be surprised.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, waving them off. “Go back to your table before I kick you out.”

Meg laughed, looping her arm through Ryker’s as they walked away. “You’re lucky we love you, Em. Otherwise, we’d leave you to deal with Wade all on your own.”

As they rejoined the man of the hour, I caught him glancing over at me, a question in his eyes. I quickly looked away, busying myself with the cookie platter again.

But no matter how hard I tried to focus, their words kept echoing in my head.

* * *

By the time the next round of questions started, I was doing my best to ignore the trio’s table altogether, but they made it almost impossible. Ryker kept whispering ridiculous answers to Wade, who—for some reason—found them hilarious enough to make a show of laughing loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Are you trying to get disqualified?” I called out, narrowing my eyes at them.

“Just keeping things interesting!” Ryker shot back, his grin wide enough to rival Wade’s.

“Right. Because Shakespeare really did write a sequel to Hamlet called Hamlet 2: The Revenge of Polonius, ” I said, crossing my arms.

“Hey, you can’t prove he didn’t,” Wade said, completely deadpan.

Sandy, from her table with the library volunteers, snorted into her coffee. “I’d read that version.”

“Me too!” called out Old Joe from his corner spot. “Bet it’s better than that vampire romance my granddaughter keeps trying to get me to read.”

Meg groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You two are hopeless.”

“You married that one,” I reminded her.

“Not yet,” she said, shooting me a look. “There’s still time to back out.”

“Excuse me,” Ryker said, feigning indignation. “I’m an excellent trivia partner. Right, Wade?”

Wade leaned back in his chair, giving him a sideways look. “You just asked me if F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote To Kill a Mockingbird. ”

Ryker shrugged. “Close enough.”

I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples. “Remind me why I let you people in here?”

“Because you secretly love us,” Meg said sweetly.

“Nope. That’s not it.”

“Because you can’t resist Wade’s charm,” Ryker added, waggling his eyebrows.

I glared at them, but Wade was grinning at me like he already knew he was winning. And the worst part? I wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong.

* * *

After the second round, I called for a short break to let people grab drinks and snacks. I busied myself by refilling the cookie platter and very deliberately not looking at Wade, who was headed straight for me.

“Can I help you?” I asked as he leaned against the counter, far too close for comfort.

“Just wanted to compliment the event,” he said, his tone actually sincere. “You’ve got a good thing going here.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Uh... thanks.”

He smiled, glancing around the room. “You know, this reminds me of my grandmother. She used to host these big family game nights when I was a kid. Always made me read something before I could join in—said books were the best way to understand people.”

I stared at him, my heart doing something weird and fluttery in my chest. “She sounds like she was pretty amazing.”

“She was.” He looked down at the counter, his smile softening. “She’s the reason I started reading. Even after she passed, I kept going back to the books she gave me. They... helped, you know? When things felt too big.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly, surprised by the depth in his voice. “I do know.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The chatter and laughter of the crowd faded into the background, and I couldn’t look away from him.

Then someone called my name, breaking the spell.

“I should get back to the game,” I said quickly, grabbing the trivia note cards.

“Emma,” Wade said, his voice low.

I froze, but he didn’t say anything else. He just gave me a small, almost hesitant smile, and for some reason, that smile felt more dangerous than any of his cocky grins.

* * *

By the time trivia night ended, my nerves were completely frayed. Wade’s team didn’t win, but he didn’t seem to care. He stuck around after the others left, helping me put the chairs back in their usual spots and sweeping up stray cookie crumbs while Porky snoozed under the counter.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, watching him sweep like he wasn’t the kind of guy who probably had an entire staff of people to clean for him.

“I don’t mind,” he said simply.

When we finished tidying, he leaned against the counter and gave me a long, considering look. “Let me walk you home.”

“I don’t need an escort,” I protested, even though my heart was doing that annoying fluttery thing again.

“I know you don’t need one. I just... want to.”

Something in his voice made me pause. Against my better judgment, I nodded. “Fine.”

The streets were quiet as we walked, the moon casting a soft glow over the town. Wade kept his hands in his pockets, his steps slow and unhurried, like he wasn’t in a rush to get anywhere.

“You’re really not what I expected based on our first meeting,” I said suddenly, surprising even myself.

He glanced at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Good surprise or bad?”

“Jury’s still out.”

He laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile.

When we reached my gate, he paused, his gaze lingering on mine. For a moment, I thought he might try to kiss me again, but instead, he reached out and scratched Porky behind the ears.

“G’night, Emma,” he said softly.

“Night,” I murmured, watching as he walked away.

As I climbed the porch steps, I realized something unsettling: In spite of representing everything I’d walked away from in my previous life… I think I was starting to want Wade to stick around.

That was terrifying.