Page 98 of Long Story Short

“I don’t want to stop this either,” I tell him, hoping my words come out as confident as they feel. Things are still so new, and I have no idea what will happen, but I know I have feelings for him unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

And I don’t want to run from them. I don’t want to run from him.

He smiles at my words, his shoulders dropping slightly as he lets out a long breath of relief. His thumb lightly brushes my cheekbone as his gaze rakes over me. “I’ve never been so relieved in my life to hear you say that,” he gets out before leaning in to kiss me again.

We stay under the stream as we both accept that whatever’s happening between us, it isn’t just a fleeting feeling. It feels like something that’s going to stay and develop into something more.

Maybe neither one of us knows what that means yet. Maybe we don’t know where it’s going. But for once, I don’t feel the need to figure it out. All I want to do is get lost in it, thinking that maybe, in the process, I’ll be found.

I just want to feel it—with him.

FORTY-FIVE

TYSON

“We have to stop in here,” I tell Josie, my grip on her hand tightening as we come to a stop in front of a bookstore. It sits tucked along the sidewalk of the busy street in the heart of the Hamptons, its white brick glowing under the afternoon sun. The storefront invites you in. It’s got the coastal charm that many stores around here have, but it also isn’t trying too hard either. The blue letters above the window read Blue Harbor Books.

I glance from the sign to Josie, finding her already smiling.

I take in that soft, slightly bashful smile she gets when attention shifts to her. I’ve loved seeing it more and more in the weeks we’ve spent together since we first met. “We don’t have to go in there,” she mutters, her gaze dropping to her feet for a moment.

I can’t help but laugh as I squeeze her hand again. “Sure we do. We have to see if we can find your books in there. If we do, you have to sign them.”

Her cheeks flush at my words, the pink spreading under the warm sunlight as her hazel eyes find mine again.

“Let’s just keep walking,” she offers. “We don’t need to go in there to look for my books.”

I take a step closer, not letting her pull away from this. “We’re out celebrating you,” I begin as my hand finds the side of her face. “The fact that after over a month of working on it, you’re finally almost done reworking your manuscript? That’s a big deal, Josie.”

She presses her lips together like she’s trying to fight a smile. “I’m not done yet, so we don’t need to get ahead of ourselves. Plus, what if my books aren’t even in there?

“Then we still go in,” I counter. “And if we’re lucky—” I lean in slightly, my mouth brushing against her ear. “—maybe we’ll find a quiet corner and give you some more inspiration.”

Josie laughs as she slides her arms around my middle and steps into me for a hug. “You’ve given me plenty of inspiration recently,” she mutters.

Something inside my chest squeezes. It isn’t just pride; it’s something far deeper than that.

Because this may have started with me giving her something real to write about, but now, it’s so much more. The feelings are real—so real—and even after her book is done, I don’t plan on going anywhere.

“It’s still not enough,” I tell her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Come on,” I offer as my gaze meets hers again. I grab her hand and bring it to my lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Let’s go see if my favorite author made the cut for Blue Harbor Books.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her beautiful mouth as I pull her toward the door. The bell above it chimes softly as we step inside. I look around and take it in. The air inside is cool, and there’s a faint scent of paper and coffee. My eyes travel over the space, scanning rows of neatly arranged shelves and tables as the sunlight filters through the large windows at the front of the store.

I glance over at Josie, finding her scanning the place with a look of wonder. Her eyes are wide, and there’s a soft smile on her lips as she takes it all in.

I squeeze her hand, catching her attention.

Her eyes meet mine as her thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “I just love places like this.”

I smile at the joy on her face, and I have to fight the urge to tell her how much I love just being wherever she is.

“So,” I begin, glancing around the bookstore. It’s pretty empty in here, besides an older man sitting at a checkout counter at the corner of the store…who might actually be asleep. “Where do you think your books would be?”

This makes her laugh. “They could be anywhere, but we’ll try looking for a romance section.” She lets go of my hand before walking away, and immediately, I miss her touch.

She moves through one of the aisles, her fingers trailing lightly along the spines of the books as she walks.

I follow a step behind her, watching her—admiring her.