15. Josie

FIFTEEN

Josie

Morning sunbeams played tag with the weathered sign of the Bookish Cat as I unlocked the door. The scent of musky paper from this week’s still-unopened delivery of new books from England, laced with a hint of vanilla from the incense I kept in the back, rolled out to greet me.

And so did three cats.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I had left them snoozing in the morning sun at home, but sure as day, they were lounging on various shelves, indifferent to my arrival.

The question of how they managed that magic trick couldn’t distract me from the real issue weighing on my mind.

An intoxicating memory clung to my senses—the taste of last night’s fateful change of direction…

Caleb’s kiss.

Just the thought of it brought wetness to the lace panties I’d picked with care this morning. I had zero plans of showing them to anyone—least of all, Caleb—but something about yesterday reminded me that I was a woman. I needed to feel that sensation on my skin, in my veins—my pussy was crying out for more attention than I’d given it in years.

My fingers wandered down, slipping beneath the waistband of my jeans. Just the slightest of touches was all I would allow. I was on the clock, after all. And I wasn’t afraid to admit that I kind of liked the torture.

I navigated through the maze of towering bookshelves with practiced ease, since I set up every single part of the store. Each book was a world unto itself, humming with stories untold. That kiss awoke a part of me I’d forgotten about, the part where I got my own love story. I found myself echoed in the books that surrounded me—in heroines who dared to love, in heroes who left, in plot twists that unraveled in the wake of a single, fateful kiss.

God, it had felt like fate. Over the last seven years, I’d let myself forget how he did that to me. But being around him changed something inside of me, too. I was damn proud of everything I’d built since he left, but his presence made me want more out of life.

I ran my hand over Little Women because I’d been bold like Jo, who dared to defy societal norms and love freely. A few shelves away, I tapped The Book Thief , where Rudy Steiner’s steadfastness reflected the essence of Caleb. The wrenching plot twists and single fateful kisses in The History of Love were a perfect fit for what was happening between Caleb and me. Alma Singer definitely knew what she was talking about when she wrote that.

The shop had been my escape, but now I saw our love story reflected in books from left to right, from classics to philosophy, fantasy to romance. As for the stack of Highlander steamy romances? I flipped through the pages a little too long this morning.

Behind the counter, I lingered, the weight of my thoughts pressing against the silent anticipation of opening the store in five minutes. My fingers found the power button on the tablet, but my mind was lost in the labyrinth of last night.

The vivid taste of that kiss lingered—taking me back to our love affair in Federal Way seven years ago, when I was sure of my future and the fact that he was it.

His touch, the smell of his skin, the sound of his whispered affections all surged back as if carried on a rogue wave crashing into the shore of my quiet life.

And there goes my pussy throbbing for him again.

But beyond this inexplicable physical reaction I had at the mere thought of him, his touch ignited questions that I had buried deep within the corners of my heart.

Why now? Why here? Why did every fiber of my being lean into him despite the chasm of years spent apart? One kiss shouldn’t be able to do so much.

Stories from the past and present tangled together, long-forgotten love letters and stolen kisses resurfacing from the depths of my guarded heart. Lovemaking that had lasted for hours and days as if the world were ending. The past had strolled into my present, uninvited, through a door I thought I’d bolted shut.

The soft ping of my tablet pulled me out of my illicit thoughts.

“Nana Geraldine” flashed across the screen, and I composed myself before swiping to answer the video call. Her beaming face framed by a wide-brimmed sunflower hat was there waiting for me.

“Nana, you’re up early after the big party!”

“I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead,” she scoffed .

“Nana!”

“I know you don’t like it when I talk that way, but that’s why I’m living it up in the meantime.”

Sometimes, Nana’s humor was a kick to the gut. “So, did you love the party?” I asked, settling into the plush reading chair. I could open the shop a couple minutes late. There was no one at the door.

“Oh, it was just delightful, dear. You wouldn’t believe the shenanigans we got up to after you young’uns left. Why, Mabel and I whipped out our dancing shoes and cut the rug until the wee hours, singing at the top of our lungs. And we just might have wrapped the neighbor’s fir tree with toilet paper. I haven’t done that in at least ten years! What a thrill!”

“Nana!” I exclaimed, both scandalized and amused. She was never going to change, and thank goodness for that.

Nana’s hearty laughter rang through the tablet again, her eyes filled with feigned innocence. “What? I’m just a harmless old lady having fun,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes in pretend bashfulness, her eccentric hat bobbing with the movement. I couldn’t help but join in her laughter, the image of Nana and her geriatric crew partying into the early hours of the morning bringing a much-needed lightness to the emotionally heavy start of my day.

“And you? Recovered yet?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with her signature mischief. “And you know I mean recovered from that history-making kiss from your beau.”

“Oh, that.” I waved my hand. “It was nothing.”

Nana sighed and tensed her lips, her tone turning serious. “It wasn’t nothing. And we need to talk about this.” Her eyes were still twinkling, but it was as if they held secrets now, secrets that were waiting to break free. “It’s time you knew. It matters now. ”

I blinked at her sudden change, my smile faltering. “Knew what, Nana?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Nana wasn’t one for secrets, or so I’d thought.

She leaned toward the camera, the brim of her sunflower hat falling out of view. There was an excitement there, a mischievous glint that hinted at tales of yore and adventures untold. It was a look that I’d seen in my customers’ eyes when they picked up a book they couldn’t wait to dive into.

“Once upon a time,” she began, a playful grin breaking across her face. “When I was about your age, a little older maybe, I met someone.” She held my gaze, her eyes intense.

I leaned in closer, curiosity piqued. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who was it?”

She held up a hand, wagging her finger at me. “Nuh-uh. Patience, dear. I’m getting to that. This wasn’t an ordinary someone. This person… couldn’t even truly be called that.” She paused dramatically, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I had a sense that whatever she was about to reveal was something big.

“Couldn’t be called a person?” I asked, now genuinely intrigued. The store opening could wait.

“He was celestial,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Did she just say what I think she said?

“Celestial?” I echoed, my voice catching in my throat. I waited for her to break into laughter, to tell me she was just pulling my leg, but she remained serious. She nodded solemnly. “Yes, celestial, dear. Not too unlike the ‘fictional’ characters you’re so fond of in your books.”

I stared at her, unblinking. Was Nana suggesting that she’d experienced something like what I’d experienced? No, she couldn’t be.

But the knowing look in her eyes told a different story. I felt the color drain from my face as I grappled with the implications of her revelation. My mind spun, questions ricocheting around my head.

Nana met an angel? Does she know what Caleb is?

“I know, dear. It’s a lot to take in,” she said softly, a hint of compassion in her eyes. “But it’s true. And now that you’ve met one too, I thought it was high time I shared this with you.”

The way she said “met one too” with such nonchalance, as if meeting celestial beings was as normal as running into an old friend at the grocery store, made my head spin.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I had so many questions. I needed answers. And it seemed like Nana was the only one who could provide them.

“You know about Caleb…” I began, my voice barely a whisper.

Nana just smiled, her eyes filled with understanding and maybe… relief?

“Indeed, dear,” she murmured. “Indeed.”

We sat like that, looking at each other and not knowing what to say, until there was a knock at the bookshop door.

“There will be time for us to talk, Josie dear. In the meantime, just know that this love is unlike anything else you will ever experience.”

The screen went black.

Another polite knock on the door and I rushed off my chair, eager for the distraction.

The small bell above the door heralded the customer’s entrance after I unlocked it. A middle-aged woman stepped inside, her eyes wide with delight as she glanced around. She was a new customer, taking it all in.

“Morning,” I greeted her, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside.

“Good morning,” she replied with a wide smile. “I wonder if you could help me. I’m looking for a family saga to read on my vacation. Something that will keep me hooked,” she said, squeezing her hands in anticipation.

“I’ve got a whole section of family sagas.” I led her to the far corner where those hefty books were shelved. “What sort of dynamics are you interested in?” I asked, turning back to her.

“Oh, I love a meddling grandmother character. The matriarch of the family who has her fingers in every pie.” The woman laughed.

A chuckle escaped my lips. “Well, I certainly know about that character type. The kind that phones you up out of the blue and gets straight into the middle of a mess,” I said, my mind flitting back to Nana.

The woman hooted, a hearty sound that echoed around the shop. “Exactly!”

“Any other character types you’re fond of?” I asked, pulling out a few books I thought she might like.

“Hmm… How about some sibling rivalry?” she suggested.

“Oh, that’s a common one,” I agreed, a wry smile pulling at my lips. “The kind where one sibling has followed family tradition, but the other has become a black sheep.”

“Yes!”

“But then there’s this undercurrent of love and respect beneath it all. Even if one of them returns after seven years with a mysterious secret,” I added. Fred and I had a complex relationship, but yesterday felt like something new was happening between us.

The woman nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes! That’s exactly it!”

“Anything else?” I asked, eager to see where this conversation would lead.

“Perhaps a childhood sweetheart who comes back to town, reigniting old feelings and stirring up drama?” she proposed, an impish grin on her face.

My heart skipped a beat. “I know that one, too,” I said, swallowing hard. “The kind that shows up unannounced, his return sending shockwaves through the protagonist’s life. They share a kiss that’s a mix of old memories and new feelings. And suddenly, all those old wounds are reopened, the past coming back to haunt the present,” I added, my voice a soft murmur.

“And always a happily ever after.” She sighed.

“Always.” I let out a tight sigh. Happily ever after, my ass. More like make do with the best I could get. Even Nana had gone through the turmoil of a love that didn’t last forever with one of these celestial cads. Just who did they think they were, anyway?

Angel-shaped Don Juan dickwads.

She cocked her head. “Or else the love interest could die. That always does well in a family saga.”

Yikes. “No!” That would be going a little too far.

“Oh, okay.” The woman’s eyes were wide with interest. “Then he lives and causes incredible chaos in an already complicated family. That’s the kind of drama I live for.”

“Let me cull the options for you.” I was getting fearful of what she might come up with next.

I helped her narrow her selection to an excellent series that could keep her going all summer.

“I know you’re going to love these,” I said as I rang her up on the register.

She placed a fifty-dollar bill on the counter but then reached out and took my hand. The contact surprised me. Her grasp was unusually hot, hotter than any skin I’d ever touched, as though if I wasn’t careful, I’d get burned. It was as if she…

And then I knew .

She isn’t human.

The woman squeezed my hand. “You’ll get your happy ending, darling.”

And she was gone, the books she’d selected poofing out of existence right along with her.

The air was electric as I stood there in the silence, a buzzing energy that hummed beneath my skin and jolted through my veins. She had been standing there, as real as I was, but these days, as I became more and more aware of the not-so-human beings around, I knew that woman could have been anything.

And that made her message all the more important. My heart pounded an erratic beat against the backdrop of hushed whispers from the old, worn books. The realization hit me like a lightning bolt.

Caleb is the man for me.

Gatsby appeared, purring at my feet.

I saw it then, as clear as the sun’s first light breaking the dawn, as undeniable as the constellations adorning the night sky. He wasn’t just another character in the complex web of my existence. No, he was the plot twist, the climax, the denouement, all rolled into one.

I’d been trying to map out my life’s narrative without its protagonist, the key character around whom everything revolved. It was Caleb. It had always been Caleb.

I could see it in the way his name resounded in my mind, an echo reverberating off the walls of my heart, leaving a trail of warmth. I could see it in the way the universe seemed to be aligning itself in a strange, inexplicable pattern, leading me back to him.

Even the fact that it had been seven years… there was something powerful in that number .

Everything inside me filled with a cocktail of emotions so potent it threatened to spill over.

Fear. Excitement. Longing. Hope. Desperate need. Each one vied for dominance, but one stood out, stronger, bolder.

Courage .

I would not be held back by fear or uncertainty anymore. I was ready to face Caleb, to lay everything out on the line. To tell him that despite the chaos, the turmoil, the celestial complications, he was the one.

My heart’s compass pointed toward him, as certain as true north.

This was bigger than us. It was a saga written in the stars, etched into the universe’s grand design. It was our love story, and I was ready to turn the page and start the next chapter.

Gatsby jumped onto the counter, and I’d be damned if he didn’t just push my keys at me ever so slightly with a wink just as Barb walked in.

“Barb, I’ve got to go!”

“Nice to see you too?—”

I flew out of the bookshop and ran faster than I thought was possible to Caleb’s office. I had to get there before my courage had any chance to falter.

I was in love with an angel, and I was going to make him mine.