date—” Was it? “I’m just giving him some extra help outside of class.”
“Is his son coming too?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“I’m helping him . . .”
Erik didn’t seem convinced.
“Fine. Be that way.”
Erik pushed the cart. No joking. No juggling. After helping her carry her bags to the car, he gave her a swift wave.
“Talk to you soon. Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks. I will.”
No kiss.
Why was Sadie going on a date with that guy?
Didn’t their two dates and one kiss—well, two kisses, which kept replaying in his mind—signify anything to her?
He was a teenager again and back up on that roller coaster, afraid Sadie was going to toss him over the side.
Not this time.
He was thirty, not eighteen. This time, he wasn’t going to wonder what happened. He wasn’t giving Sadie up without a fight. But he only had a few hours to plan his offensive maneuver.
So this was the life of a private investigator—lurking in between store shelves, watching the door, hoping some store clerk wouldn’t show up and accuse you of shoplifting?
Erik held his ground in the greeting card section of the bookstore, his attention on The Tattered Cover’s front doors. He even had a few cards in his hands, which he may or may not get to use, depending on how tonight went.
“Isn’t that her?”
At Lydia’s whispered question, he looked up from thecard adorned with a retro black-and-white photo of a man and woman embracing under the words: For My Love: C’mere you!
Sadie at nine o’clock.
Took her long enough to get here. Of course, she was the one who was punctual. He had been early.
“Yep, that’s her.”
What was she doing, looking that cute in a navy blue jacket, white scarf arranged at the collar, and a pair of black skinny jeans tucked in black boots?
And there was Justin, greeting her with a friendly hug. Motioning to the Starbucks coffee bar. Sadie shook her head. Looked as if it was book browsing first, coffee later.
Fine. He could put his plan into action all the sooner.
Erik set the cards back in the rack. “You ready for this? Okay, remember the plan: We interrupt Sadie and Justin. You distract Justin—to the point he takes you to coffee, not Sadie.”
Erik straightened his shoulders. Yeah, as far as Sadie was concerned, he was a goner. He just wasn’t sure Sadie would ever speak to him again after tonight’s lovesick shenanigans.
Lydia offered him a smirk—a sympathetic smirk, but a smirk nonetheless. “You must love her an awful lot to sabotage her date, Erik.”
The word love slammed into his gut. To admit it to himself was one thing. To hear an ex-girlfriend say it—out loud—was something else altogether.
“I do, Lydia.”
“Which is why you and I didn’t work out. Why did you even date me when you were in love with Sadie?”
“I just realized it. It took me seventeen years to figure it out.”
“Talk about slow.”
“Yeah—but I’m catching up fast. Let’s go.”
Sadie’s and Justin’s laughter floated over from one of the aisles in the cookbook section.
“Sadie, what a surprise!” Erik could only hope his voice sounded nonchalant.
“Erik?” The pages of the open book rippled through Sadie’s fingers.
He stepped forward, gripping Justin’s outstretched hand. “I’m Erik Davis.” He’d thought this next sentence out all afternoon. If he went the “I’m Sadie’s boyfriend” route, he put seventeen years on the line—and all his hopes for a future. “I’m Sadie’s best friend.”
“Nice to meet you, Erik. I’ve seen you at church.”
“And this is Lydia, a friend of mine.”
“Sadie—Erik’s told me so much about you.” Lydia enacted her part perfectly, offering Justin a warm smile and managing to position herself between the two men. “Hello, Justin.”
“Lydia.”
Erik ran his hand down the spines of the closest books. “So, how’s the cookbook browsing going?”
“We just started.”
“Is his son coming too?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“I’m helping him . . .”
Erik didn’t seem convinced.
“Fine. Be that way.”
Erik pushed the cart. No joking. No juggling. After helping her carry her bags to the car, he gave her a swift wave.
“Talk to you soon. Have fun tonight.”
“Thanks. I will.”
No kiss.
Why was Sadie going on a date with that guy?
Didn’t their two dates and one kiss—well, two kisses, which kept replaying in his mind—signify anything to her?
He was a teenager again and back up on that roller coaster, afraid Sadie was going to toss him over the side.
Not this time.
He was thirty, not eighteen. This time, he wasn’t going to wonder what happened. He wasn’t giving Sadie up without a fight. But he only had a few hours to plan his offensive maneuver.
So this was the life of a private investigator—lurking in between store shelves, watching the door, hoping some store clerk wouldn’t show up and accuse you of shoplifting?
Erik held his ground in the greeting card section of the bookstore, his attention on The Tattered Cover’s front doors. He even had a few cards in his hands, which he may or may not get to use, depending on how tonight went.
“Isn’t that her?”
At Lydia’s whispered question, he looked up from thecard adorned with a retro black-and-white photo of a man and woman embracing under the words: For My Love: C’mere you!
Sadie at nine o’clock.
Took her long enough to get here. Of course, she was the one who was punctual. He had been early.
“Yep, that’s her.”
What was she doing, looking that cute in a navy blue jacket, white scarf arranged at the collar, and a pair of black skinny jeans tucked in black boots?
And there was Justin, greeting her with a friendly hug. Motioning to the Starbucks coffee bar. Sadie shook her head. Looked as if it was book browsing first, coffee later.
Fine. He could put his plan into action all the sooner.
Erik set the cards back in the rack. “You ready for this? Okay, remember the plan: We interrupt Sadie and Justin. You distract Justin—to the point he takes you to coffee, not Sadie.”
Erik straightened his shoulders. Yeah, as far as Sadie was concerned, he was a goner. He just wasn’t sure Sadie would ever speak to him again after tonight’s lovesick shenanigans.
Lydia offered him a smirk—a sympathetic smirk, but a smirk nonetheless. “You must love her an awful lot to sabotage her date, Erik.”
The word love slammed into his gut. To admit it to himself was one thing. To hear an ex-girlfriend say it—out loud—was something else altogether.
“I do, Lydia.”
“Which is why you and I didn’t work out. Why did you even date me when you were in love with Sadie?”
“I just realized it. It took me seventeen years to figure it out.”
“Talk about slow.”
“Yeah—but I’m catching up fast. Let’s go.”
Sadie’s and Justin’s laughter floated over from one of the aisles in the cookbook section.
“Sadie, what a surprise!” Erik could only hope his voice sounded nonchalant.
“Erik?” The pages of the open book rippled through Sadie’s fingers.
He stepped forward, gripping Justin’s outstretched hand. “I’m Erik Davis.” He’d thought this next sentence out all afternoon. If he went the “I’m Sadie’s boyfriend” route, he put seventeen years on the line—and all his hopes for a future. “I’m Sadie’s best friend.”
“Nice to meet you, Erik. I’ve seen you at church.”
“And this is Lydia, a friend of mine.”
“Sadie—Erik’s told me so much about you.” Lydia enacted her part perfectly, offering Justin a warm smile and managing to position herself between the two men. “Hello, Justin.”
“Lydia.”
Erik ran his hand down the spines of the closest books. “So, how’s the cookbook browsing going?”
“We just started.”
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