Page 23 of Bonfire and Bliss Bookstore

“You’re gorgeous. With those inquisitive green eyes and your chiseled jaw covered in that black scruff. Not to mention the full sleeve of tattoos or the muscles you can’t hide under that shirt.” I roll my eyes, agitated, and unable to stop myself from spilling my every thought. “With your big brain inside such a pretty package, if you put even a smattering of romance in your books, you’d make a killing. Like killing a bird with two stones.”

He chuckles and I wonder if I said that wrong, but I’m too exhausted to ask. I slump against the bar and sigh. “Then again, maybe you can’t. I mean, not everyone can write good romance, though a hell of a lot of people think they can.”

I’m rambling again. I do that when I’m nervous. And I’m incredibly nervous and embarrassed right now. I just told Monty that I think he’s hot. And that his books suck. I’m officially the worst.

“So now you think I can’t write romance?” He arches a brow.

I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s a lot more than just a sex scene or two.”

He chuckles. “Ah, thanks for enlightening me.”

I shift and study him. “Look, you can’t be taught how to write chemistry. You either can, or you can’t.” With a lift of my shoulder, I add, “It’s like dating, really. Wooing a woman. Though, I’m guessing you never really had to work too hard on the whole dating thing. Ya know…” I wave at him again. “Because of the glasses and the tattoos.”

His lips tilt up. “You seem awfully invested in my glasses, Xuxuzinho.”

Despite the low sweep of my stomach muscles every time he uses that term, I try to maintain an unaffected air. I doubt it works because I feel the heat rushing over my neck and my nipples pebbling.

“So you think I don’t have game,” he says, and the deep rumble of his voice rolls over me like a fast wave, right before he tips his foot beneath the low bar on my stool and tugs me closer.

With his gaze still on me, he slips his glasses off, folds them carefully, and then sets them on the bar.

I hiss out a surprised breath as he leans in and then skirts a finger through my hair, pushing it behind my ear, before skating it slowly down my jaw.

“I— What?” What was I saying? What did he ask? Oh God, why is he so close?

Monty’s mouth, now only an inch from my own, lifts on one side as his hand settles on my neck and he reverently strokes my jaw with his thumb. “You think I can’t write a man who yearns to kiss the woman he’s dreamt about for years.” I taste his words against my lips. The crisp apple and heady want. “A man who has tried to figure out her eye color for longer than the few seconds when he can feel her pulse beneath his thumb.” His teeth scrape over his bottom lip. “Who’s wondered if she tastes like a fall dessert, sweet and sugary with just a hint of cinnamon—” His green eyes dilate, lust filled. “Or maybe”—his voice dips and those fingers on my neck tighten as he tugs me that last little bit closer—“she tastes like she’s mine.” On the last word his lips ghost across mine and my eyes fall shut.

I wait for him to kiss me. Ache for it. His lips brush against mine once more, though, as he mumbles against my mouth, “Maybe I should be your fake boyfriend.”

I blink as I come up for air. “Um, what?”

Monty leans back, completely unaffected. “Think about it, all the Liberty Ladies would stop bothering you about dates and you could teach me”—his lips quirk like he finds all of this so very amusing—“all about this romance stuff you think I can’t write.”

I cough out a laugh, trying to cover up my nerves. My heart’s still racing from how close he was to kissing me—just like earlier in my store before Babs interrupted us. Though this time it’s coated with embarrassment because he didn’t want to kiss me. He was proving a point. “That’s ridiculous.”

Monty shrugs like he doesn’t care one way or another what I decide. “Is it? You’ve been telling me for months how everyone’s worried about you and you just want to be left alone. And we both witnessed the séance tonight where they planned to rid you of Richard’s evil chakras.” His eyes dance and now I know he’s fucking with me.

I chuckle. “Okay, fine, I hear what you’re saying, but fake dating?” I make a face. “That’s absurd.”

Monty smirks. “Is it? I seem to remember you waxing poetic in one of our texts about this amazing book with fake dating in it. Isn’t that your favorite trope?”

My jaw drops. “You can’t use my book boyfriends against me!”

Monty chuckles. “This could work for both of us, Xuxuzinho. Think about it.”

I have a feeling I’ll think of nothing else.

Hope Harbor Happy Chat

Babs: The picture is a bit grainy but I’m almost positive that’s Penny.

Mindy: But who’s the guy she’s kissing?

Rayna: She isn’t kissing him. He’s definitely about to kiss her though. And I don’t think it’s Richard.

Tally: While I refuse to participate in this conversation we should at least get his name right. It’s DICK!

Babs: Apologies. She’s correct. It’s definitely Dick.