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Abby smiled again, though, easing Quinn’s worry, and said, “Right. So, I owe my next book to my publisher soon, and I was all sorts of blocked. I thought moving home would help me get my head back on straight, but the words weren’t coming to me. Then, I stopped by here because I…” She faded, and Quinn wondered why, but she didn’t say anything, wanting Abby to finish her thought first. “And there was that photo.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you stop in here the other day? It’s not like you knew that picture was in here. You were just walking around town, right?”

“Taking a break, yeah. I don’t know why I specifically came in here. Something told–” She stopped herself again.

“What?”

“You’re going to laugh.”

“Why?”

“Because I just got done telling you that I don’t follow vibes, and I followed one right through that door.” Abby pointed behind her at the door to the shop. “Something just told me to come inside. I know that sounds crazy.”

“No, it doesn’t. Something told me to move here in the first place, so I get it.” Quinn placed her hand flat on the counter near Abby’s since Abby had just done the same, and she looked down at their hands, inches apart, considering her next move.

She didn’t know if Abby was interested in women, and she didn’t want to scare her. No longer worried about the whole customer thing, though, she pushed her hand just a little across the glass, moving it maybe a millimeter or two. Abby didn’t move her hand out of the way, but she also wasn’t paying attention to their hands to begin with.

“Okay. Well, when I saw that photo, I got an idea. I’ve been writing it ever since.”

“You got an idea for a whole book from one picture?” Quinn looked back up at her.

“Yeah.”

“I read entire books in high school and couldn’t turn them into five-page book reports, but you can see one picture and write a whole book?”

“I can see a potted plant and get an idea for a book.”

“Wait. Really?” Quinn chuckled. “What wouldthatbook be about?”

“Depends on the plant.” Abby winked at her, and Quinn felt the blush instantly creep up her cheeks because she was no longer worried that her own wink earlier had been an issue. “Anyway, I had this idea to write a historical romance. My first book was historical fiction. It initially had a romance in it, but I cut that before publication.”

“Romance? Between whom and whom?” Quinn asked, suddenly interested in the book even more than the possibilityof Abby moving her hand closer to her own, so she lifted her hand up.

“Marilyn and Antonio.”

“Wait. Marilyn and Antonio got together originally?”

“How doyouknow Marilyn and Antonio?”

“I can’t write great book reports, but Icanread, Abby. I’ve read your book. It’s great. And I can totally see those two together. Why did you cut it?”

“The publisher didn’t think I needed it.”

“I guess not, but it would’ve made the ending that much more tragic.”

“The ending’s not tragic,” Abby replied, and it wasn’t quite defensive, but it was bordering on it, which had Quinn smiling a little because it was cute.

“Antonio is an immigrant who is beaten by xenophobic assholes,” Quinn argued.

“He survives and moves away from the violence.”

“Apparently, away from Marilyn, whom you made him love. Tragic. I said what I said.”

Abby laughed and replied, “Anyway, I got an idea, and I’m really enjoying it so far. The story is set in the 1930s right now, and the love story is at the center of it, which I’ve never done before. I was nervous at first, but I’ve been typing like crazy recently, really enjoying the process even more than I did with my first book. That book also took me a long time to write, but I’m going to have the first draft of this one finished soon, which isn’t like me at all, but in a good way.”