Chapter 5

Millie

I want to know everything about you. Every thought that floats through your mind. Your dreams. Your hopes. Every wish you’ve ever made. I want to know everything.

I set my kindle down, letting out a deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. Tripp’s words move me in a way no other author has ever been able to do before. It’s scary how badly I want to keep reading and reading his work.

I’ve never been this hungry for an author before.

“You okay?” Hazel asks me.

I nearly drop my Kindle into my lap. “I’m great. Great. Absolutely great.” I definitely sound like I’m hiding something.

I’m sitting behind the counter of my shop. I should be paying attention to the customers here, but instead I’m entrapped by Tripp’s words.

Hazel raises a brow. “You sure?”

I sigh, pushing back a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Just a new book I’ve been reading.”

“Do share.”

I clutch my Kindle close to my chest. “No, it’s actually an author, a friend of mine, well, he’s not really a friend, per se. He’s just someone I know, in passing. I’m reading his stuff,” I’m rambling, nonstop.

Hazel just studies me, her eyes locked on mine. “ He? ”

Of course that would be the one small detail she’d pick up on. “He’s nobody.”

Hazel doesn’t believe me. I’ve known her long enough that she’s absolutely not buying anything I’m telling her. “Sounds to me like you’ve got a little crush.”

I stand, setting my Kindle on the counter. “I do not,” I say, adamantly. “Absolutely not. I couldn’t possibly…” my words falter as Hazel’s smile grows wider. “I really don’t,” I say as my last ditch effort.

“Is it romance?”

I blink. “What?”

“The book? Is it romance?”

I blush, and I try to hide the red that I’m sure is lighting up my cheeks. “Yes,” I say, realizing there’s no point in lying. “It’s romance. Which is strange because he doesn’t seem the type, ya know? I guess I don’t know him that well, but still.”

Hazel can’t stop smiling, and I wish we could talk about anything else but this. “A man who writes romance? A man who writes about his feelings? Don’t let him get away, Millie.”

I glance at the counter, wiping away an imaginary smudge. “It isn’t like that. He’s not writing about me.” And why does this thought upset me?

I shouldn’t want Tripp writing about me, but for some reason I do. I just want a man to want me like the man in Tripp’s story.

“I’m sure it isn’t.” Hazel winks and heads to the back of the shop to get ready for this week’s book club meeting.

We had started out with monthly book club meetings, but the ladies like meeting a lot more frequently. Most times we don’t even discuss books. Like tonight. This evening we’ll be voting on our next group read.

Honestly, I don’t think anything will be able to hold my attention quite like Tripp’s book.

I head to the back of the shop, following after Hazel to make sure everything’s ready for this week’s meeting. I pull a few more chairs together, making a nice circle with them.

All the ladies chatter away animatedly. I’m about to settle in and start the meeting, but the bell above the entrance chimes with a customer.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, glancing over at the door to see who’s entered. My jaw literally drops as I bound from my chair. “Be right back,” I say again in a rush.

Tripp Atwood smiles at me from the front of my store, and I try to hurriedly rush over to him so I don’t have to answer Hazel’s questioning glares. I’m sure she’d be able to put two-and-two together to know Tripp is the one writing the stuff I’m reading.

Or maybe I’m just paranoid.

“Hi,” I say in a hushed whisper.

“Hey,” he strolls around the store, and I try to keep him from going near the ladies in the back.

“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean to sound rude, and I would never treat a paying customer like this, but I’m feeling all sorts of guilty.

Like the women in the back are going to see right through me.

Honestly, I’m worried Tripp might see right through me as well. Like he’d be able to know how his words make me feel.

Honestly, I don’t even understand it, so I guess I can’t expect him to know either.

“I was sitting at home writing, and I was…well, how do I explain this? I needed inspiration?” he asks it like a question.

“Inspiration?” I glance over my shoulder at the ladies who are all silent and watching the exchange between Tripp and me. Even though I know they probably can’t hear us.

“Yeah. Libraries and book stores have always given me inspiration.” He glances beyond me and nods toward the women in the back. “What’s going on back there?”

I feel like the wizard of Oz, trying to hide the fact that there are women sitting in a circle at the back of my shop. “Going on where?” I ask, like there’s nothing out of the ordinary going on here.

Tripp moves past me. “Hey, Mrs. Tisdale. How are you?”

“Well, if it isn’t Tripp Atwood,” I hear Hazel say.

I wish the world would swallow me whole right at this moment. The women gush over Tripp, and then the unthinkable happens. Just as I’m ready to rush Tripp out of the store, Hazel smiles wide.

“Tripp, why don’t you join us. We were just about to pick the book we’d like to read for next month.”

No please, this can’t be happening. I don’t even know how to act as Tripp smiles, all nonchalantly. Like this isn’t weird for him at all.

“Sure. I’d love to. What book are we thinking of? I just read a really great thriller last week.”

“A thriller?” Claire asks. “We were thinking more like a romance to sweep us off our feet.”

Okay, I’ve changed my mind. I wish now would be the moment the world would swallow me whole. Right now.

Hazel gives me a wink, and I want to literally puke right now. She knows.

I’m guessing they all know by the way their gaudy smiles and knowing eyes are aimed right at Tripp.

Tripp doesn’t appear to notice, or if he does it doesn’t affect him, and he, as cool as a cucumber, takes my seat with the ladies.

I awkwardly stand behind them all, and I wish I could just close up the store.

Tripp looks right at me. “Did I take your seat?” He stands, placing his hand on the back of the chair. “I can find another…” his words fall away as he glances around the shop, looking for another chair. He finds one and easily brings it over, placing it right next to the one he just vacated. He sits. “Is this okay?” he asks, all innocent and almost boyish.

He really is very cute. And charming. And ugh, I am not crushing on him.

“It’s fine,” I rush out a bit too quickly. I sit down. “Great, let’s get started,” I say, feeling a small thrill of excitement being this close to Tripp.

Hazel’s knowing eyes meet mine and she smiles. She definitely knows. “Yes, let’s start. I think we should read Fifty Shades Of Grey .”

Tripp coughs beside me, obviously not expecting that title to be mentioned. “Oh,” he says.

“I think you’ve rendered the boy speechless, Hazel,” June says with a laugh. “Let the man relax before we bombard him with that book. He might not ever come back.”

I’m hot. My cheeks are flaming red. I’m sure everyone can see that my face is about to explode right off my shoulders. “How about a thriller like Tripp said. We haven’t done a thriller in a while, right Helena?” I direct my question at Helena because she loves thrillers.

Obviously she’s not in the know, because she nods. “I think we could read the new Freida McFadden book.”

Now that the subject has been changed, and all the ladies go through the list of Freida books, I visibly relax.

Tripp’s leg brushes slightly against mine, and it sends a jolt of electricity racing through me. “Sorry,” he whispers, moving his leg away.

“It’s okay,” I whisper back, giving him a shy smile.

And then he does something so unexpected, he returns his leg back to where it was. Touching mine.

And I once again flame red hot.