When I’ve had my fill, at least for now, I turn, careful to be quiet and slow. I reach for my e-reader on the nightstand, power it to life, and turn the brightness down. Blowing out a steady breath, I stare at the screen, my finger hovering over the title. One of his favorite historical romances, according to the adorably detailed “Bookseller’s Favorites” index cards he’s written and perched around titles he loves shelved across the store. I downloaded it before our flight. Finally, I tap it and watch the book open up. I settle in beside the man I love, a story he loves in my hands.
