My Next Book Boyfriend (Book Boyfriend #1) Read online

  He beams, covering my hands with his. “It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” Swoon! “But I think I’ll stick with Coffee Girl.” His hand is warm, his skin soft. Could my face get any redder? The heat in my body just rose about one hundred degrees. Definitely a panty melter. Molly takes that moment to bring us our coffees and sandwiches. He hands her his credit card and then begins to eat so I give her my best mean look but all I get back is her mouthing “you’re welcome” to me. Wench.

  I take a couple bites of my amazing sandwich, a girl could totally get fat with these, and a few sips of my heavenly mocha. Now to be fair, I do have them made with low fat milk and no whipped cream. I watch his mouth encase his sandwich and suddenly I wish I was that sandwich. “So. What are you writing? You’re always so busy on that laptop.” He starts coughing, choking. I lay down my sandwich and start hitting his back. When he gets under control, he takes a drink.

  “Sorry. Oh, just some work.” His eyes avoid mine as he takes another drink. Mysterious. Intriguing. Damn, I wanna know.

  We end up talking about nothing, really. He had to go about a half hour after I sat down. Weird. All of a sudden it was like he was in a hurry but apologized several times. Too many times. I wonder if I’ll ever chip away the mystery of this man? This man who walked into my shop, just like any other normal day, yet so much like a book boyfriend would in any of the romance novels I read.

  What would you do if your book boyfriend walked into your front door?

  Chapter 8

  I started the first book in a new series by an author I’d been reading about on Facebook. I’d happened upon it while checking around in some reader groups. They seem very popular. Their Facebook page has over one million fans. Hmmm, how did I not know about them? God, where have I been?

  “I’m in the middle of the first book Dare to Dream, and I’m dying,” I tell Molly. Seriously, this series is going to kill me. Best I’ve ever read. No wonder it’s been in the top one hundred for several months. It had hit the New York Times list – twice, USA Today, and is still in the top one hundred! The second book was released just a few weeks ago and hit those same lists and are still there weekly. And Damien Marsh? Totally swoon worthy. Too bad I can’t add him to my book boyfriend list for a while. There are three books in this series! And the third one isn’t even out yet. Double sigh.

  “You’re not dying, Ry.” She rolls her eyes. Yes, I am! She has no idea!

  “Yes, I am! I just found out the third book isn’t published yet but there’s an expected release date in two weeks. Expected. I hate that! I’ve seen so many times when they go past that date. Until there’s an official release date, you really don’t know for sure. Why I do that to myself, I have no idea. You’d think by now I’d learn. Always check a series to make sure all the books are available before you start the first book. It’s a freaking rule!”

  “One you can’t seem to follow.” She smirks.

  “I know!” She turns, waving her arms up in the air and stops, watching Jax walk up to the counter. Perfect.

  “Something wrong?” Jax asks.

  She looks up from cleaning the counter and smiles. “Yes. She’s lost her mind by a book. Again.” I smack her shoulder playfully as I look over to see Jax standing there smiling. Molly winces. That didn’t hurt. “Coffee?” she asks Jax while rubbing her arm.

  He appears to be trying to hide a grin. “Maybe a bottled water. I think I’ve had enough of your amazing coffee today to keep me up tonight already.” My eyes are glazed as I watch his mouth move as he speaks. I’d changed my shirt to a V-neck t-shirt that says “I live for my book boyfriends” right across my ample breasts, and he’s looking right at them. I wish I had time to sit down and talk with him again but suddenly people start walking in like there’s a big sale going on or something. Soon we’re both really busy, but I still watched him walk over to his table, set his laptop down and power it on as he sits down. As crowds keep coming in and out, I notice he keeps staring at his laptop and not typing much. An hour later, I watch him pack up his laptop and leave. We’re so busy that he couldn’t get to me to say goodbye. Good for business, bad for my heart and panties.

  The next day was filled with reading. I actually took off the morning and part of the afternoon to do just that. I loved every minute except I knew I was missing the chance to spend some time with Jax. When I walk into the shop, my smile falters when I walk over to his table and see he’s packing up. “Oh. Are you leaving?” I’m so disappointed.

  He stands, grabbing his things, and gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry. I have an appointment. Will you be here later?”

  I feel hopeful then scrunch up my face. “Yes.” I smile. “I’ll be here until closing.”

  He smiles back. A look of relief covers his gorgeous face. “Good. I’ll see you later.”

  The rest of the day was uneventful with no HT to dream over but I made good use of my time reading, when I could. I went home twice to let Willy out, surprised, yet proud that my condo was still in one piece. By closing, disappointment set in when Jax never came back, so I tried to get over it with a cup of tea while sitting out on the patio and reading. I’d already closed up the shop, helped clean it, and said goodnight to Molly. Addie had left earlier. In looking back the last couple of days, I’m even happier that I hired Addie. She’s a book nerd like me yet beautiful. Like, she could be a model. We’re becoming fast friends, and I know that’s hard to come by.

  “Nice night.” I startle but relax immediately at the sound of Jax’s voice. I look over as I hear the creak of the rod iron gate swing open. “You sit out here often after work?” he asks as he lifts my feet from the chair beside me and sits down, keeping them on his lap. Oh! He reaches over and lifts my book from where I’m holding it in my lap and leans down to look at the cover in the dim light coming out the window of my shop. “Dare to Dream by….” He lifts it higher and squints. “J. Stearns.”

  “Heard of them?” I ask, wondering if he reads at all or really wondering anything and everything about him. It feels as though all I know is he lives in a small apartment, types incredibly fast on his laptop – what I have no idea, and is an amazing kisser. He’s also the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Seriously, no lie! He leans back in the chair, removing my flip flops and begins massaging both my feet. At the same time! His talents hold no bounds!

  “Actually, yes.” He continues to push his thumbs into the arches of my feet while his fingers do their own exercises with my toes. “I’ve read all their books.” Astounding. He’s even more interesting than I’d realized, not to mention he has magical hands. And those fingers! Gah! I envision other things he could do with those fingers.

  I can’t help the giggle snort that leaves my mouth, making him raise an eyebrow questioningly. “You like to read romance?” Bringing up my book, I use it to cover my mouth before another embarrassing sound leaves it.

  “What?” He laughs. “Guys can’t read romance?”

  “Well, I guess, but….”

  He continues his feet pleasuring, and I almost moan. “I like to read other things too, like history, historical romance, military, suspense and thrillers.” He starts paying particular attention to the balls of my feet, and it feels so amazing and almost ticklish. “I love a lot of different authors too. Male and female writers.”

  I become serious, well, as much as I can when he’s doing such glorious things with his hands. “Yeah, but I guess I thought it would be like a guy watching a chick-flick. Ya know? Most men would rather have their eyes spooned out with a chisel than watch one of those.” He laughs, and it’s just not a small blurt of a laugh but a full belly guffaw that pushes against my feet with his stomach.

  “I actually enjoy a good chick-flick as long as they are good and not stupid. For example, just about anything that Nicholas Sparks has written. I’ve read them too. And any of
those that have been made into movies I’ve seen.” Oh, my God! He’s so totally made for me! That just made him so much sexier in my eyes.

  “The Lucky One.” I breathe out.

  He smirks. “Nights in Rodanthe.”

  I scoot up in my seat. “The Longest Ride.” I sigh. “Where have you been all my life?” I ask, somewhat serious. Okay, I’m totally serious but smile acting like maybe I’m kidding. Kind of. “No, I mean. Most guys think they are too tough and manly for anything romance or gushy.” I lean back into my chair with a sigh. “It’s so refreshing that you like to read and watch chick-flicks. Go figure.” He laughs, and it’s like music filters all around us. Cue a scene in a movie where she finally meets her Mr. Right.

  Suddenly, he stands, laying my feet down gently on the mesh of the rod iron chair. I look up and with the small light filtering out from the window, the moonlight shining on him from above, he looks almost – godly. He leans down, cupping my face, his eyes searching mine, and I swallow…. hard. “I’m sorry to cut this perfect time short but I have a bunch of stuff I have to get done tonight.” I feel his thumb smooth over my cheek, and it feels as if we’re in a book, one that the two main characters are about to kiss. I hold my breath in anticipation. God, I hope I don’t black out. “Rain check?” He doesn’t smile, seriousness shadowing his face. I nod, slightly, enamored by his eyes. Then it’s like slow motion, his face coming closer to mine, his eyes moving from mine to my mouth then to my eyes again, back and forth. Finally, his lips press against mine. Soft. Gentle. It’s like in one of my favorite romance movies or books but so much more because it’s real and it’s actually me he’s kissing! Gah! Tilting his head, he deepens the kiss, my lips part automatically, and his tongue slides into my mouth at the invitation. That undeniable and delicious taste of mint captures my senses along with his amazing tongue, which apparently is as magical as his hands and fingers. Oh, the things I’m imagining he could do with that tongue and those fingers.

  I shamelessly moan into his mouth as my hands drop the book on my lap and move their way up his firm broad chest. Damn, he’s really built. I open my eyes as he leans back and look up as he kisses my forehead. Sigh. “I wish I didn’t have to go.” You and me both, buddy. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” I nod, unable to speak. He smiles as if he understands. I watch his fine ass walk away and out the gate, keeping my eyes on him until he disappears from my view. It’s not until then, I let out the breath I’d been holding, my stomach fluttering with all kinds of tingles and butterflies, and I smile.

  I had all kinds of wonderful dreams last night and none of them were from any book. It’s been the weirdest morning. I’d taken some of my cinnamon rolls fresh from the oven next door. It had been too long since I’d talked to Maggie and Warren. Last time we’d talked, she told me about their exciting news that she and Warren were expecting. I couldn’t be happier for them. I’ve been feeling bad and neglectful lately so I thought a peace offering would be good. I was pretty chipper as I walked down my front steps, down the short sidewalk, and to their front steps. I’d noticed a small pickup truck parking alongside the curb but shrugged it off. It’s not like there are a ton of parking choices around here. You either have Maggie and Warren’s driveway or the curb. I don’t mind not having a garage or driveway because I get a little bit bigger backyard. I don’t even have a car and it’s not like I need one anyway. What I didn’t expect was after I rang their bell, I thought when the door opened it would be either Maggie or Warren, not a person who was smeared with paint, wearing rubber gloves, and holding a bottle of cleaner pointed at me. The worst part? All he said, with wide eyes, is, “Yo no hablo ingles.” He turns, aiming the bottle at others in the living room area, all of them looking up with the same wide eyes and expressions, spouting off words I couldn’t decipher. That’s what I get for not paying attention in Spanish class. I smiled, at least I think I did, nodding like a bobble head and shoving the pan of buns into his hands, causing him to spray up and down my shirt in surprise. I kept nodding, like an idiot as I backed down the steps slowly.

  So, that’s how my morning started and from there it went downhill without a paddle – or oar – or whatever. I was pretty much at a loss.

  Going into work never felt so good. After my strange morning, I was ready to serve some customers, read some of my book, and have a few too many mochas. You know those moments when the earth feels off its axis? Like you feel the planet has changed yet you remain the same? Yeah, that’s how I’m feeling today. I walk into my shop, just in time for the lunch rush madness. Walking inside, I immediately wonder if I needed to hire another person already. The place is packed and now I feel bad for taking so long to get here. Quickly, I walk through and around the people and jog the rest of the way into the back room, open my locker, grab my apron and start tying it behind me. Picking up a tray full of sandwiches, I walk back out into the madhouse and walk behind Addie and Molly, who are helping customers.

  “You didn’t need to come in. We’ve got this,” Molly says, giving me a wink as she hands change to a customer.

  “It’s fine,” I murmur as I put plates of sandwiches into the display counter.

  Addie looks over at me and smiles. “Seriously, you could have enjoyed more of your morning. We’re fine.”

  Standing up, I lean the now empty tray against the back wall and put my hands on my hips. “What? Are you all trying to get rid of me?” I turn and smile. “I can help someone over here.”

  Molly swooshes past me and gets something out of the display case next to me. “What she means is – it’s okay to take a little time off. No one’s trying to get rid of you.”

  I look up at the girl in front of the case and continue to fake smile. “What can I get you?” She rambles her order, and I take the two steps over to the latte machine and start making her drink. “Seems like it by the way you two are ganging up on me.” Handing the customer her drink, I take her card and run it through the side of the register, something moving from the corner of my eye. “Who’s that,” I ask as I hand her card back. “And why is he bussing tables?”

  “Miss, may I have a….”

  I hold up my hand. “Why is he talking to customers and acting like he works here?” I ask, watching a guy wearing an apron over his blue jeans and white polo shirt smile then laugh at something a customer said.

  “I’ll help you over here,” Addie tells the customer I still have my hand raised in front of as I continue watching this man I don’t know working – in my shop – that I had no clue about. Half turning my head, I ask again, watching him flitter around the room. “Molly?”

  She looks up from the display case and smiles, handing a plate with a cinnamon bun to the customer in front of her. “That’s Duncan. He works here.” Oh really?

  Leaning my hand on the counter, I tilt my head at her. “Did I miss the meeting where we talked about hiring another person?” Molly knows my finances here and business has really picked up. With no condo payment and she doesn’t pay rent on her apartment above the shop, it’s only business expenses, pretty much. It would be nice to be able to take off sometimes, like normal people. I trust Molly, but I don’t remember talking about it. She really should have talked to me first.

  She answers my question with a shrug. “We talked about it the other night when we went out.” No wonder I don’t remember. I was two sheets to the wind. Or five. “Duncan came in yesterday when you were gone and asked if we needed help.” She shrugs again. “I had him help a few customers and he’s perfect!” Perfect. I’m staring at him, watching him converse with the customers, smiling and laughing, my face scrunching. “It’s just a trial, Ry,” she huffs.

  It is so not a trial.

  By late evening, I kinda started warming up to Duncan. I even admitted – only to myself, that he’s a hard worker and catching on fairly quickly. He’s also a major people person and talks to them as he cleans up and r
estocks everything. By the time we close, I’m highly disappointed I haven’t seen Jax today but happy that if he ever actually asks me out the possibility that I could go is much better now that Addie and Duncan are working here. I’ll never admit to Molly she did a good thing. I’d never hear the end of it.

  The next morning, I’m sitting in the kitchen with Molly as we prepare for the day. “Of course the weekends have the heaviest crowds but once we get Duncan trained on making everything and I know you’ve been working with Addie on baking and making the sandwiches, we could alternate weekdays and nights, for now, then take off a weekend day once they’re up to snuff.”

  She looks over at me from the preparing table, flour all over her, and scrunches up her face, a look she gives me quite often. “Who in the hell says “snuff”?”

  I look up at the ceiling as if I’m thinking then back at her. “I just did.”

  She laughs and goes back to making donuts. “Did you read that in one of your books?” Shrugging, I open my mouth to speak but she continues. “By the way. Hurry up and finish Dare to Dream. I’ve never seen you take so long to read a book.” Again my mouth opens but she keeps rambling. “I mean, I know I’m a slower reader but shit, the third book will be out, and I won’t even be on the second one by the rate you’re going.” For someone who says she’s not really a reader, she’s sure impatient to get my book.