Page 16 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore
She bites her lip as she glances from me to the door.
“I just have to check something outside.” She rushes past me before I can stop her.
I huff out a frustrated breath. How could she leave me in my moment of need? When she was crawling on the floor in our childhood home trying to prove Walker was stealing our family farm, where was I? Right beside her. When she needed a website for her new bakery, who made it for her? Yeah, that’d be me. But when I’m stuck in a room with Babs waving a dildo in my face and openly discussing my lack of sex life, she’s out the door without a backward glance. Rude.
“It’s all about burning off the bad juju,” Babs is saying now, waving the blue peni toward her friend Viola. The fiftysomething woman stuck out the moment she arrived. Her dark hair is pulled back into a ballerina bun, and she’s wearing a black leotard under her long red skirt with several layers that swish loudly when she walks. The outfit is completed with bright red lipstick.
Before Monty arrived and stole all my damn focus, I was writing a story in my mind that she was newly widowed and had just moved to Hope Harbor to start afresh. In my imagination she was a ballet teacher, not a sex whisperer. Whatever the hell that means.
Viola stands and hesitates before taking the alien dildo.
“It’s not exactly about good sex.” She eyes the jiggling toy in her hand. The blue tentacles seem to swing toward one another, and I realize it’s because her hand is trembling.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I can’t have a woman terrified in my damn bookstore. Knowing I’m going to regret this, I stand up and hold out a hand.
“Can I have my toy back?”
Monty’s surprised whoosh of air as his eyes widen is hard to miss.
Viola practically throws the dildo at me and the silicone peni wobble through the air. Before I can get in position to catch them, they clobber me in the face, knocking me back.
My mortification is officially complete. R.I.P. me. I can see it on my tombstone now: Penelope Darling died of embarrassment on the first of September.
I never even got to enjoy my favorite time of year.
“Oh shit!” Rosie yells as I fall backward into her chair.
I don’t say anything. I don’t plan on opening my eyes. Maybe if I pretend to be knocked out, they’ll all just leave.
“Is she okay?” Rayna asks.
“Penny!” my mother screams.
Rosie jabs me in the side but I remain a deadweight.
“Are you okay, Xuxuzinho?”
His voice—deep with a hint of smoke—coaxes my eyes open without permission. I blink up to see Monty above me, wearing a slightly concerned but mostly amused expression. He’s so handsome with those green eyes set behind impossibly thick lashes, and that little scar above his lip that bounces when his mouth tips up into a friendly smile.
“Just leave me here to die.”
He chuckles as he grabs the blue toy and hands it off to someone then holds out a tattooed arm toward me.
Black ink snakes beneath his wrist—a compass and a wave—and I find myself wishing I had hours to study all the designs on his body. I want to know whether they mean anything. I want to know why he got his first one. Whether any were inspired by a woman, or someone who broke his heart.
I shake my head. My brain needs to stop running away with stories.
Monty’s grin only grows when I don’t make a move. “You going to make me pick you up?”
Oh, God no. I’d break the guy’s back.
I finally take his proffered hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I underestimate his strength and practically knock into his chest on the ascent. Monty’s warm hands settle on my arms to steady me as a shiver works up my spine at the feel of him and his familiar scent. The smell of him shouldn’t be etched into my memory, and yet.
Monty’s brows tug together. “You good?”
Still, I don’t say anything. Being this close to him—the center of all his attention—is making me heady.
Monty’s rough hands slide up my neck before he cups my cheeks, peering closer still. My mouth waters at the feel of his warm breath so close. I lick my lips and those green eyes drop lower as I do. Is he—
