Booked for the Holidays (Park Cove Series Book 1)

by Chelsea Curto

To the book lovers and the go-getters: never stop chasing your dreams.

The weather folks panic, strongly advising parents to not let their children stand outside in the positively frigid fifty degree temps without a hat and scarf. The Northerners must think we’re lunatics.

This Is hilarious

A man. Tall. Somewhat broad shouldered with his arms crossed over his chest. I snort when I recognize who it is. Theo Gardner, the manager of the hardware store next door.

Jesus. Those forearms have veins, sneakily disappearing under his sleeves in a way I’ve definitely never noticed before. Now it’s all I can focus on.

“I forgive you,” I whisper. It comes out breathier than I intended, a puff of words and syllables catching in my throat. At that, Theo’s expression softens. His eyes lighten and his shoulders fall away from his ears. He looks relieved, happy, maybe, if you stare long enough to sift through the negativity to find a hint of joy.

Her reasoning was simple: there aren't many things in life better than a coffee and a good book on a cloudy afternoon. On any afternoon, really.

Shes right lol

“You should play some Kate Bush over the speakers next week. Thanks for the coffee and food, Bridget. I’m sorry again for earlier.” “It’s okay. I hope you get some good sleep tonight.”

When he finally turns away and breaks our staring contest, just as he reaches the door, I notice his lips tugging up in the corner. A hint of a smile–small, but there–briefly brightens his weary face. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“He’s the captain of the hockey team. She’s a figure skater. The tension was so good. I couldn’t put it down until they kissed for the first time.” “Color me shocked.

Icebreaker question mark?

Maybe I don’t want people to know that when Theo’s lips pull upward, he favors the right side of his mouth, instead of the left. A lopsided smile, but beautiful nonetheless. Maybe I don’t want anyone to know his eyes crinkle slightly behind his glasses and a faint splash of pink paints his cheeks, the hue you would find during sunset on a clear summer night.

And maybe, most alarmingly, I’m afraid to admit, even to myself, I enjoyed seeing that ephemeral happiness. A fleeting display of wondrous delight, and the sneaking suspicion it’s not awarded to everyone.

Theo Gardner is breathtaking when he smiles.

“So I’d rather be home with an Emily Henry book than listening to another man tell me about the fishing trip he took with his friends, Brad and Chad,” I say. “Big deal. What’s your point?”

Big big mood

The sucker punch to my gut was the extra dash of cinnamon I know she sprinkles in the beverage on my behalf. She’s done it every time since I offhandedly mentioned liking the flavor a couple years ago. For a second, everything felt manageable. For a second, everything was brighter. For a second, I could breathe.

Stop i love him already

I scan her from head to toe, heart racing as I check for any signs of injury. A sigh escapes when I find her unharmed, and my shoulders sag in relief.

Suddenly, I miss her steadying touch.

“Cheating on your husband with your son’s science teacher is also inappropriate, but you don’t hear us talking about it,” I snap impulsively.

hahaha omg

Her smile stretches from corner to corner. I’m not sure I’ve seen a more stunning sight.

I don’t know why I jumped in, inserting myself into gossip I don’t want to be a part of, but something compelled me to… protect her, almost. Defend and keep out of harm’s way. It’s the same something that ran through me when she almost got hit by the car, safe, safe, safe, chanting in my head until she was. I have no clue what it means.

Yeah i love him

and I add it to the small list of things I know about her. The small list of things I think I like about her.

I stop another smile from forming. When I wander in the store on Wednesday mornings–when she’s the one opening and the only day I don’t order online–I always look forward to hearing what nickname she comes up with. It’s like a language designed only for us.

That’s what the holiday season is about, right? Not presents or winning money. Not who can have the most lights in their store windows, the biggest tree, the brightest menorah. It’s about peace. Joy, comfort. It’s about love.

“I’d like you to meet Mackenzie.” A pause, a clearing of his throat. A splash of red on the tips of his ears. “My daughter.”

STOP A GRUMPY SMALL TOWN SINGLE DAD TROPE?!!?! IM DEAD

also feel so lucky. Lucky that he trusts me with this precious information. Lucky that I get to witness a part of him he doesn’t broadcast to the world. Lucky that I get to hear the prideful tone his voice takes when he says how thrilled he is with his daughter.

A quiet, resistant jubilation shows itself. For the first time, I see him in his full, magnificent splendor. Shit, he’s beautiful. And hot as hell.

Behind the classic attractiveness is a hint of trouble. A splash of bad. I shiver at the intoxicating amalgamation. I’ve always considered Theo good looking, but watching him exhibit delight so openly about someone he loves more than life itself? Seeing him smile boldly, purposefully? It’s devastating.

I love them

“You should do that more,” I whisper. His eyes, cautious and guarded, meet mine. “Do what?” “Be happy.” “Not many people give me a reason to be happy.” A pause, then, “But I think you might. Maybe.”

Im dead

I’ve noticed over the years, the Wednesday mornings he shows up and spends more than two seconds collecting his pre-made drink and darting away are better–significantly, monumentally better–than the days I don’t see him at all. I think that means he might make me happy, too.

I kind of wanted to grab her cheeks, yank her to me and kiss her, right there, in the middle of the store on a Tuesday afternoon, just to see how she would react. I think she would have liked it. I would have liked it, too.

Shit.

That goddamn mouth and the way she looks at me not like I’m someone to toss to the side, but like I’m someone to keep around. No one’s looked at me like that for a long time.

It earns me her biggest smile yet. I’m not normally a smiler, but I answer it with one of my own. Because when Bridget smiles at me–with her eyes, her cheeks, her teeth, her entire being–for some inexplicable reason, I’m inclined to smile back.

“Oh! My favorite comedian. Farley Jones. Shit. Wait. No, she got married, so I think it’s Farley Harrigan now. She’s a genius. There’s this diarrhea joke she tells and–never mind. I’d butcher it.”

FUNNY FEELINGS SUPREMACY

I’ve found I like to say her name. I like it even better when she listens, raising her chin, eyes meeting mine. Her lip is caught between her teeth, worry painted on her scrunched brows. Ink-stained hands twist together, fingers intertwining. I want to reach out and hug her, to let her know she hasn’t done anything wrong. And I’m not a hugger.

“Would you…” Theo trails off. Scuffs his boot against the floor, drags his eyes to mine. “Do you want a hug?” he finishes softly.

like the soft Theo. The one not many people get to see.

His arms envelop me, sheathing me in a cloak of warmth. A blanket on a cold night, a cocoon of quiet. A net of safety.

“Perfect.” His hand falls to my hair, and he tucks a rogue piece behind my ear. I’ve stopped breathing. I’ve stopped thinking.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to getting on my knees for you, Boylston, if that’s where you want me. But it wouldn’t just be to ask for forgiveness.”

“Maybe you’re only looking for the wrong ones, then. The right ones won’t leave. The right ones will stick around.”

The creases of his frown lines soften. I want to drag my finger there, between his scrunched brows, and smooth out the edges. The dark brown of his eyes grows warm and thankful. He shifts from my face to the pastries, then back again. When his gaze meets mine, he stares. I stare back, unafraid. Unyielding. He won’t win this fight.

There are three hundred colored lights reflecting in his glasses, but I notice he's only looking at me. It’s silly how much I like it.

I want to be wild and free, settled and stable. God, I want so much. Too much, I think. I’ll never be able to have it all. I dream too big, but it doesn’t change how badly I crave those silly, joyful things.”

The only thing I can process is the need… the urge… the strangling desire to give her everything, everything she asked for. And more. How many dogs? Eight? You got it, angel.

Running in the rain? I'll hand you a towel at the finish line and shelter you from the storm. Making love on a blanket in the grass? I’ll pick you a bouquet of flowers after, daffodils and dandelions tucked behind your ear.

“Glad to know I’m not reaching for the stars. Now it’s your turn. Tell me what would make you happy.”

“This,” I say earnestly. “This makes me happy, Bridget.” Bridget laughs, light and gentle, slicing through the quiet of the night. “This makes me happy too, Theo. Really stinking happy.” As she stands from the bench and offers me a hand, salt from the French fries sticking to my palm, and a smile on her face, I think this might be one of the best nights of my life.

Im dead

“It’s great. Thanks for thinking of me.” I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Theo.

I’m going to start to think you’re who I’ve been waiting for. The reason no one else has made sense.

“Then why the hell do you make so many blueberry muffins?” “Because you like them, Theo. They're your favorite. I remember the first time you came into the store and asked for one. I watched your eyes light up when you saw I had a whole tray. They had been in the case for two days, and not one person had ordered one. I was about to toss them in the trash and then you were there, acting like they were the rarest jewel. A prized possession. You were so happy, over such a small thing, and god, it was so beautiful. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. I didn’t even know your name. But I put blueberry muffins out again the next week, hoping you’d come back. And you did. You’ve kept coming back. I know you have a busy life. You don’t do a lot of things for yourself, and I know how much you love those damn muffins. I bake them for you, Theo. Because we all deserve someone who looks after us every now and then.”