Page 36 of Booked for Theft

“Bradley,” I complained.

“They try once a week, and I remove them when I get to the vehicle. It used to be every other day, but I think they lessened the frequency in the hopes I will lower my guard. I won’t, for the record.”

I sighed and wondered what sort of hell I’d stepped into. “You better just get me three cheeseburgers with bacon. I’m going to be eating my feelings for a while.”

“How about I get you four and some fries? Dinner was barely a snack for me, and your stomach started cursing at you twenty minutes ago.”

Damn it. “I’m not responsible for what my stomach says this late at night.”

He laughed at me. “It’s okay. I’ll feed you, and then you can pass out. If you don’t wake up by the time we get to your parents’ place, I will enjoy treating you like an imperiled princess, carrying you in.”

“There is no way in hell I’m going to be asleep when we get there,” I muttered. “There will be no more carrying of my person. My person has been carried sufficiently for one lifetime.”

“Maybe I should get you five burgers, that way, I might get one.”

“You better get six, else you really might starve.”

“I’m getting a big one for myself, with cheese, and I will eat it before you can stop me.”

As the medications he’d been given worked, and he no longer risked unpleasant trips to the bathroom, I nodded. “You better ask for extra cheese to make up for lost time.”

“That’s a good idea. I think I will do that. You have the best ideas. Anything else?”

I pointed at the general store and gift shop, which was open and waiting for me to purchase something. “I could use a new travel mug to honor the time I was heavily exposed to politicians and wasn’t shot, kidnapped, or otherwise injured.”

“Wasn’t your pride felled at least four times?”

“That doesn’t count due to rapid recovery times.”

“I’ll let you have it. And anyway, once we get home, you have to put your new book babies on their shelf, keeping your Roman codices company.”

“That shelf is going to be dedicated to all things ancient and beautiful,” I informed him, giggling over how I’d inevitably pamper my precious books. “You better take care of that music. If that gets damaged, I will perish from horror. I know how much you spent, and I’m horrified. But if you have the money, it’s your money, and you can spend it however you want. And it makes us even, as my first books cost a lot.”

“I wasn’t counting them, nor am I counting any books you are given.”

Shit. The memory of Emma telling me she had more books coming my way would cause significant problems come Sunday, as President Castillo had moved forward with Bradley’s suggestion to contact the cathedral. His selflessness, his wife’s immediate confirmation to donate his organs for transplant, and his quiet faith had won him a funeral in the historic building despite not being a member of their parish. “When Emma hands me some books, be ready. I will cry.”

“Ah. She told you she was giving you a few more of his books?”

“Yes. He loved how much I loved his old books, and he wanted me to have them. He’d already notified his attorney to adjust the will.”

“He was not one to stand idle. It’ll be all right, Janette. When you cry, I’ll provide a handkerchief and a shoulder. I’ll bring extras. We’ll probably need them, because I don’t think any of us are getting out of this without tears. There aren’t many good men left, and we just lost one of them.”

That we had. All I could do was hope that the few good men—and women—left would be able to change the world for the better.