Page 38 of Booked on You
I’ve never been wooed by basic gestures. Am I desperate?
No.This feels like something else.
He’s thoughtful, and it makes me feel seen.
I sit at the two-seat table against the wall. I take one bite, and it’s good. Like really, really good. The butter isn’t greasy, and the jam is sweet. It shouldn’t make me feel anything, and yet here I am, chewing with a fluttering heart.
I reach for my phone to check my email so I can see if anyone is hounding me for an update. No one is. Before I click out, I notice there’s a text message waiting for me.
Hallie
Good morning! I was thinking about your book. Hope you accomplish a lot today.
Scarlett
Morning! I think I will since I have my muse. If I keep at this pace, I’ll be halfway through act two tomorrow.
I hit send,then eat some more. This man has me eating food before noon. A part of me believes I could get used to this. I take another bite and try not to imagine Ezra back in his kitchen, coffee in hand, messy hair, offering to spoil me.
He’s very stubborn and doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.
And that’s what wrecks me.
My phone begins buzzing.
Hallie
So you’re confirming he’s your muse?
Scarlett
Don’t tell anyone, please. I’m struggling with that.
Hallie
He’s not your ex, Scar. Good guys still exist.
Scarlett
At our age?
Hallie
We’re single. So yes. Do you have a photo?
I take a snapshot of what’s left of my strawberry jam toast and send it to her, knowing that’s not what she wants.
Hallie
A pic of him!!!
When I glance out the window, he’s there.
Ezra is standing near the garden, barefoot, crouched beside a wooden crate of feed. Harry is strutting in wild, unpredictable circles, like he’s getting ready to attack. Ezra’s wearing a worn gray T-shirt and jeans that ride low on his hips. He tosses a handful of feed into the coop, and the hens rush forward.
I raise my phone and snap a photo, then zoom in and snap another. My pulse is louder than it should be for a man feeding chickens. I text her.
Hallie
