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Alice Young was the best person I’ve ever known. The best person anyone has known. Every stranger who walked into her little bookstore walked out with more books than they probably wanted—and a new friend.
I don’t even like myself half the time and you’re telling me it’s a good idea to latch myself on to one other person until death do we freaking part? Or more likely, until they cheat, get bored, or whatever other reason fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. Yeah. No thank you.
When we reach the back corner of the bookstore where the Dirty Birds—the name they chose for their book club—meet on the second Wednesday of every month, they’re cackling just like their name would suggest. Copies of whatever romance novel they decided to read this month are sitting on the coffee table and each woman is in her unofficial-official chair.
I’ve never participated in a book club and I never will. Once I watched the movie instead but was shamed so intensely for it, I avoided them for a week. The Dirty Birds are vicious.
“But you’re going to need to start reading something. You can’t own a bookstore and hate books!”
“Oooorrrr . . .” Ethel drags out the word. My spine snaps straight. I recognize that tone and the meddling that always follows it. “You could read it before this weekend because Jasper Williams has agreed to come to the store. He’s going to join our book club and do a reading.”
“It’s Saturday evening. The reading begins at five, followed by a discussion lasting until six or so, but he said he’s flexible. I put it on your calendar. I thought you would’ve seen it by now.”
A Saturday night spent listening to some old guy mansplain what women want? Can’t freaking wait.
“Anything at Red Rocks is the exception. You’ll love it.” And shocking the hell out of me, I think I might actually love it too.
“Oh, sister dearest . . . we have so much to catch up on.” Mischief twinkles in her eyes as she looks at me and winks . . . winks! “I have a feeling I might be able to teach you a thing or two.” Well, fuck. As if the Dirty Birds meddling in my life wasn’t enough, let’s just pile it on.
“Thank you so much,” Jasper says. “I see you have your hands quite full, so it means more to me than you know that you would spend any of your time reading one of my novels.”
Freaking Dirty Birds. I love them, but I swear, their “help” is going to put me in an early grave. “It does, thank you so much.” I offer him a grateful smile. “Do you want to sit while I go grab them?” “Sure.” His full lips spread into a wide smile and I try to ignore the way it causes the butterflies I thought went extinct years ago to take off.
“Fuck,” I hiss into the dark, quiet room, the thousands of pages stacked around me absorbing my words. I might not love to read—okay, fine, I hate it—but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find an odd comfort in the smell of a book. Maybe some of it is because of the familiarity of it, but nothing calms my frazzled nerves more than taking inventory back here. The weight and feel of a book in my hand, the crisp pages beneath my fingertips, the bright and colorful covers that are all so similar, yet so different. It’s almost hypnotizing. And it’s the exact place I need to be after Jasper Williams
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I know the Dirty Birds say they’re trying to help me, but part of me is convinced they’re secret sadists. Nothing else could explain all the shit they put me through.
I’m not sure why, but for a reason I refuse to investigate, I think a part of me wants him to like me.
“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
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Where my talent lies is in taking normal situations and making them as awkward as possible.
“Yes, and it takes place right here in Denver. It’s why I’m able to be with you lovely people tonight. I like to explore the places I write about and spend my time drafting in the city of my characters. I’ll be here for a few months, until I finish writing this story. Getting a deep understanding of my characters and their setting is a crucial part of my process.”
I’ve avoided events like tonight because I’m not prepared for the inevitable comparisons that will follow. I know I’m inadequate to fill her shoes—they are impossibly large—but I don’t need everyone else to know that as well. That was the beauty of the children’s section; it was her idea to build it, but it was mine to create. Nothing to hold it up against, just the feeling of accomplishment and hoping I made her proud.
The only thing I’ve considered taking down is the framed article from a local magazine naming me the top up-and-coming photographer: “With style and grit, Young explores trails most photographers wouldn’t dare take. Her keen eye for beauty in untouched places has us holding our breath as we wait for what she shows us next.” Gran was so proud of it. I was so proud of it. I felt like I was getting my feet beneath me; my future felt so bright. I would help Gran when I was around, but I was a photographer. I had found my path. Then it was gone and all I had left were unfinished dreams, a grieving
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Just in case, I remind myself as I slam the drawer shut. Everyone needs an emergency exit plan in place. I can’t help that mine feels more like a betrayal than a lifeboat.
If there’s one thing you learn being around a group of older ladies, it’s that meddling isn’t something that just happens out of happenstance. No, no, no. A lot of effort, planning, and logistics go into it.
“I agree with you! Tonight was wonderful and I’ve had such a great time working with Drew,”
“Oh my. That must be so lonely, all alone in a new city,” Mona pipes in, and at the tone of her voice, all amusement I was feeling watching Jasper draped with Dirty Birds is replaced by dread. Because that tone? I know it well. It’s the prequel to terrible blind dates and awkward phone conversations with their ideal male suitors.
If I thought I could avoid this, I would do something to stop her. But not only do I know what Mona’s going to say next; I also know there’s no way to stop this disaster from coming to fruition.
“. . . she’s been everywhere. You know! I’m sure she could tell you all the great places for your book. Maybe you could take her to dinner and discuss it?” Annnnnndddd . . . There it is. I knew this was the destination, but it still doesn’t lessen the recoil of my stomach when she finally lands the plane.
“That’d be great, actually.” Jasper speaks over me—all the encouragement I could need to want to spend an evening out with him. “I’ve been trying to network, but it seems like most people I find are transplants. It’d be great to see the city from someone who really knows it.”
I knew tonight was not going to go according to plan, but I don’t think even Jasper Williams, Author, could have seen that plot twist coming.
I learned the hard way. I know books are unrealistic make-believe, whereas other people, like my best friend and apparently my sister, think they’re goals.
Our standards are so low that when someone is average, they jut above the crowd. Common courtesy should be the bare minimum, yet here we are, offering endless praise for being a decent human being.
As much as I’m pretending to be put out by this entire mess of a situation, part of me is thrilled to have an excuse to do what I love again.
Did I love the photography career I was beginning to build for myself? Of course. But I love Gran more. Running a bookstore may not be my dream, but walking in her legacy is. Standing in her store, surrounded by memories of her, feels like it’s the only thing getting me through some days.
Your hopes are way too high for something he’s only doing to be nice to a group of sweet but very intrusive old ladies. You know they’re impossible to say no to.”
I’m trying to eavesdrop on the couple in the booth behind me, something about the babysitter not respecting boundaries, when the energy in the room shifts. I don’t even know how to describe it, the subtle shift in the air. It seems as if all conversations come to a sudden hush; the only sound is the buzz of excitement bouncing from table to table. Goose bumps trail down my arms and the hair at the nape of my neck rises. My breathing speeds up, and if everyone around me didn’t seem so thrilled, I’d wonder if this was my adrenaline warning me to get the freak out of Dodge. And that’s when I see
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Going against the Dirty Birds is like launching a special ops military operation. Months of planning and strategy go into it.
He unfolds his hands and reaches across the table. I watch in slow motion as they approach my hand, and when they engulf my hand in a quick but tender squeeze, my nerves light up like the flash of my camera. I’m sure he meant for it to be a friendly or reassuring gesture, but my stupid body, which hasn’t been touched in way too long, goes haywire. I wish I could blame the rose martini for being stronger than I thought or even say the peony sugar was really infused with magic . . . or psychedelics, but I can’t. It’s all Jasper. With his eyes focused on me, the feel of his touch still lingering
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“You turn me into a Colorado lover and I’ll turn you into a book lover. You read a book and I’ll take you on an adventure that reminds me of it. I’ll pick a place on your list, and you’ll take me on an adventure to explore it.”
Jasper Williams, Author, was nervous to ask me, Drew Young, Mess, to spend time with him. How is this even possible?
“Not sure how much this will mean to you,” he says, and I keep my eyes focused on the bumper-sticker-covered car in front of me. “But I’ve been to a lot of bookstores in my day, and the Book Nook is already one of my favorites. A few friends told me how great it was, so I had high expectations, but you still managed to surpass them all.”
“Or because I like the owner with not-so-great book knowledge, but who’s turning out to be a fantastic travel guide.”
“I hoped you would like it.” I pretend not to notice the breathiness in my voice that wasn’t there even during the steep climb up the stairs. “I’m not the best at romance, but this felt like a safe bet.” “Well, as the creator of many romance couples, I have to say, I’m not sure anything I write will hold a candle to this. I don’t know if I’ll be able to create something that compares to this trip or a character as patient and kind as you’ve been today.”
I meant what I said about not sharing this detail with anyone else, but that doesn’t stop me from taking out my camera and taking one picture to remember this by. Because as much as I should try to ignore everything that happened today, I never want to forget a single second of it. Not ever.
I’ve always been an obligation, never a priority. When I’d visit him, I learned to ignore the sting that came with being an afterthought to the rest of his family.
I don’t need to know specifics to know this visit to the Book Nook does not bode good things for my future.
“The Book Nook has been a lot of work, and excuse me if this sounds like a silly question, but what has my dad told you about this property? Because I keep hearing him say ‘we’ as if he’s had any part of this store, when that’s not true at all.” I do nothing to beat back my grin when I hear Dad’s enraged hiss of breath. “He’s never helped, and, in fact, after my grandma passed away, she made it very clear that the Book Nook was in no way, in any capacity, my father’s. I’m the full owner and I have no interest in selling or partnering. This store was my gran’s pride and joy and she has
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Jasper is just supposed to be a friend, but knowing that doesn’t prevent my body from reacting. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and chills shoot down my spine. My stomach clenches and my legs spasm. I try to keep my eyes open, I try my hardest, but I can’t. They fall shut and I lean into his hand, not wanting to lose his touch. Maybe Jasper is a magician after all. Because with the barest hint of contact, I’m not in control of myself anymore.
I’ve never been this affected by another person before and I’m sure I’m going to send him running for the hills.
“Do you know how hard it was for me to control myself at Seven Falls?” His hoarse voice sends another shock wave throughout my body, like the frequency of his tone is affecting me on a cellular level and I’m not sure I can even comprehend what he’s saying. “I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first time you turned around and I saw your face. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t make myself walk away.”
My skin feels like it’s crackling with need and every touch shoots off another charge of electricity. I’ve never felt so attuned to my body. I thought this kiss would sate my need for him; instead, it’s only made it stronger.
I did it. I managed not to beg Jasper to stay and fuck me on my gran’s desk when we broke our second kiss. Alas, this was not a testament to my ironclad self-control. Jasper reminded me about the bag he brought in with him and then he showed me what was in the bag: burgers from my favorite hole-in-the-wall burger joint in town. And after the afternoon I had, plus the very strenuous make-out session, I was pretty freaking hungry. Oh. And I also finished a freaking book.
