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The idea of that pleased me just a little too much.
“Gabriel Bishop.”
Instinct insisted I keep moving, but Nana-trained manners had me stopping at the hail. The woman was older now than when I’d first met her, with more salt than pepper in her thick hair. But her smile was every bit as warm.
“Mrs. Rosas.”
My tenth-grade Spanish teacher beamed. “I’m so glad to see you back all safe and sound.”
“Thanks. Me, too.” And that was the end of my easy conversation. Struggling to find something else to add to the silence, my gaze zeroed in on the bouquet in her arms. “Been to Bloomsday?”
“I have! I go every week to pick up fresh flowers. It’s such a pick-me-up in the house, especially as we’re headed toward shorter days.”
“Flowers will do that.” Hell, I knew that first-hand now, what with all of Felicity’s plants scattered around the house. Although in my case, it was likely more the presence of Felicity herself giving me that pick-me-up.
“How’s your grandmother?”
“Doing well. Keeping me on my toes now that I’m back.”
Something sparked in Mrs. Rosas’s eyes. “And how are things going with Felicity?”
It took everything in me not to go all deer in the headlights. “Ma’am?”
Her smile dialed brighter. “I always knew I saw a spark between you two.”
I thought of the moment Felicity had looked up at me from where she’d been curled in my lap and the electricity that hadsnapped. Yeah, there was a spark. And I was still working my way around to considering whether to do something about it.
“We’re just roommates, Mrs. Rosas.”
“Mmmhmm.” She nodded sagely and tapped the side of her nose. “Forced proximity is a popular romance trope for a reason.”
What the hell did that even mean?”
Before I could come up with any sort of reply to that, she patted me on the arm. “Thank you for your service.” Then she walked away, leaving me feeling all kinds of weird.
I spent a few moments staring after her before forcing myself into motion again, lest someone else accost me with social obligation.
The shop bell jangled as I stepped into Plot Twist. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been in the bookstore. Not that I didn’t read, I just tended to buy my books online to avoid people. But what I wanted couldn’t be gotten online. At least not through the usual venues.
The store was blessedly empty, but for a mound of what appeared to be gray fur on top of a nearby book display. As I stared, it moved and one slitted golden eye opened to stare back.
A cat. It was a cat. I was pretty sure.
“Hey, Gabe.”
I turned toward the friendly voice, which held the faintest tone of surprise. Rhett’s sister, Austen, folded her arms atop the counter, fully at-ease in her space. I didn’t actually know Austen. I just knew who she was in the way you sort of knew the siblings of your friends in a small town. I also knew she was a friend of Felicity’s, so I needed to tread carefully here.
“Hey.”
“What can I help you with today?”
Digging into my back pocket, I pulled out the list I’d made. “I’m hoping you can find signed copies of all of these books. Or at least any of them you can manage.”
She wore a pair of reading glasses on a chain around her neck. Sliding them on, she held out a hand for the list. As she read through, her brows climbed higher and higher toward her hairline. “I didn’t know you were a fan of post-apocalyptic or dystopian fiction.”
Shifting on my feet, I fixed my gaze somewhere around her left ear. “I’m not. I wasn’t. Exactly.” Shit, this was harder than I’d thought. “It’s for Felicity.”
Austen took off the glasses, as if she’d be better able to see into my soul. “Okay. Why?”
