Page 75 of The Unbound Bookshop

“Okay, but think about what I said. You and Owen would make a fabulous couple.”

“I will,” she promised, already pulling her cell from the crossbody clutch slung over her shoulder. Scooting toward the railing, she answered the call. “Hey, what are you doing awake?” she asked in lieu of a greeting. “Isn’t it like 5 a.m. in Paris?”

“Like you always say, the best time to buy baked goods is first thing in the morning.” His voice scratched with an early morning rasp, as if he’d just woken up, and the sultry sound gave her goose bumps.

Get a grip, CeCe.

“I’m buying pastries for the crew,” he explained. “And I can’t remember what you said I should try? They’re like doughnut holes?”

Of course he was buying pastries for the crew. Such a sweet Jayce-like thing to do. Even as one of Hollywood’s hottest heartthrobs, who was filming a new rom-com in Paris, he hadn’t lost his boy-next-door charm.

“Chouquettes,” she said with her mother’s Caribbean-French accent. Although she made the light, fluffy pastries sprinkled with crunchy pearl sugar at her own bakery, she could appreciate the pleasure of enjoying them in Paris.

They would taste even sweeter with Jayce. She shook away the thought.

“Riiiiight. Chouquette,” he said, pronouncingshoo-ketclumsily.

She smiled to herself.You gotta love a man for trying.

Ugh. She loved him too much. That was the problem.You’re friends, nothing more. Get it through your thick head already.

“Thanks,” he said casually. She pictured him strolling the cobbled Parisian streets, onlookers gawking as they recognized his chiseled jawline and midnight-blue eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Sailing around the bay.”

“Uh-huh,” he scoffed. “And I’m bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower.”

“I’m serious. I’m on a sunset cruise. It’s beautiful.” She felt a little miffed. Okay, so she was a homebody who spent most evenings curled up on the couch with a book or TV show and her cantankerous cat. But was it so hard to believe she could be doing something interesting for a change?

“Are you on a date or something?”

Did she detect a hit of jealousy in his inflection?No. That would be crazy.

“Would I answer the phone if I was on a date?”

“For me? Your very best friend in the whole world? Yes. Always.” She could tell from his tone that he was teasing, but he had no idea how right he was.

“Hey, guess what?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m coming home before the press tour starts. And I have a favor to ask you.”

“A favor? What kind of favor?”

“A big one. But—” He paused to say something in stilted French to someone on the other end of the phone. “Hey, Toto,” he said, using the nickname he’d given her in third grade, “I gotta go. I’m at the bakery and running late to set, but I’ll call you in a few days, okay?”

“Okay.” She didn’t want to hang up. She missed his voice. She missedhim.

“I’ll bring you back some real French macarons to butter you up. One taste and you won’t be able to say no.” There was more jostling of the phone followed by a rushed goodbye.

She stared at the blank screen.

Jayce was coming home soon.

And he wanted to ask her for a favor.

Abigone, he’d said. And he’d sounded serious.

How big of a favor could it be?