Page 6 of Seasons of Love
"How long are you staying?"
"Maybe a few weeks? I'm researching for a new book."
"Weeks?" His frown gave turn to a wide grin that made his light-blue eyes shine even brighter. "Man, this is going to be great. I've gotten my running buddy back."
I laughed.
"Don't laugh. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be moving here permanently."
As much as the idea had some appeal, I wasn't sure I was ready to move away from San Diego. That felt too permanent. Final.
3
SLADE
There wasn't much a cold shower on a hot day couldn't fix, in my opinion, so thirty minutes after closing the shop for the weekend, I was feeling refreshed and ready to head out.
I hadn't missed a single book fair since I'd moved to Chester Falls, and as soon as I turned the corner from my street onto the square, I could tell this year's fair was bigger and better.
There was a line for Indy's iced coffee stand, and a separate one spilling from his coffee shop onto the street. The main event of the day was the book fair, but no one in Chester Falls would go without a cold drink and a pastry.
Not that I could blame them, Indy's cakes were the best, even though I didn't indulge in them often. Being in the shop all day didn't leave me much time to work out and, at forty-eight, my body didn't bounce back from a sugar-filled diet in the same way it had when I was younger.
Maybe I'd grab a pastry to take home for later, but I didn't want my hands busy with drinks and food while I scanned through the books.
That was my mission for the afternoon, to fill up my bookshelf with as many romance novels as I could carry home.
As they say, those who can't, teach. With me, it's more a case of those who can’t romance, read about it.
I moved through the small crowd, smiling and nodding my greetings to the locals I already knew well. It never ceased to amaze me how welcoming everyone was. If I didn't know better, I would think I'd lived here all my life.
Wren Mason, the high school coach, waved from where he stood with Tom near Indy's stand. His eyes lit up, but I smiled and shook my head at him. He grinned and came over.
"Oh, come on, Slade," he said.
"I'm too old, Wren. The only group sport I'm interested in is the kind I watch on PornHub."
He snorted. Since Wren had moved back to Chester Falls, he'd been on a mission to get the whole town involved in some kind of sport or physical activity. The kids’ football team was currently winning their league, and as a former professional player, that was probably not enough winning for him.
He was starting an adult football team, and maybe he hadn't had enough young people join because now he was coming after the old farts, like me, too.
"It's only for fun, Slade. Let out some steam after a day of hard work at the shop. It'll be great."
"My fun after a hard day's work includes a beer and one of the books I'll be buying today." I patted his shoulder and carried on toward the gazebo. He seemed a little deflated by my refusal, and I almost felt bad for not joining him in his excitement, but football had never really been my thing.
As I'd predicted, this year's book assortment was bigger than last year's, and the romance section had doubled in size.
Trying to get to it was a challenge in itself, but at least on this occasion, my six-foot-four height was an advantage. I moved through the tables, peering over people's shoulders to see if I recognized any of my favorite authors.
A glance over the thriller section proved fruitless, but it was useful in biding my time until the crowd moved away from my favorite genre.
I waved at Ben, who was at the other end of the gazebo busy ringing through all the purchases. We were both on the Chester Falls Chamber of Commerce and often discussed our favorite romance novels between meeting breaks.
He'd been a little shy at first. A reaction I often got from people that didn't know me, but once he’d gotten past the height, the beard, and the rough exterior, he didn't stop talking about books until I confessed my love for gay romance. We even shared the same favorite author.
I moved out of the way of a little girl holding a bunch of children's books and an ice cream, just in time to avoid wearing it on my jeans.
As the girl ran to her mother with the ice cream miraculously still attached to the wafer cone, I let out a relieved breath and turned back to the table.
