“No, I don’t read.” The way the pen falls out of his hand and his gaze snaps to meet mine would be comical if I saw it happen to anybody else. But instead, I shrink beneath his disbelieving gaze. I know the incompetence I always feel is on full display. At this moment, he knows I’m a fraud. “You don’t read?” Confusion mars his gorgeous face. “But . . . you own a bookstore?” “I inherited a bookstore.” I repeat my earlier words, not loving how exposed I feel. I look at my phone, which is definitely not ringing. “I have to make a call and take care of a few things before tonight. But you met Dani
...more
