Page 48 of Will Bark for Pizza (Bluebell Springs #1)

THIRTY-SEVEN

KIRA

“You sure are handy with that drill,” Lotti cooed as Beckett hung brackets above the display window.

The book club had unanimously agreed that we should hang a curtain until we were ready for the grand re-opening to keep people from being nosy.

So Lotti had sewn a set of curtains from the cutest book-themed fabric.

They were the perfect backdrop for the new sign in the window: Stay Tuned for our Next Chapter!

“Lotti, let the man do his job,” Thelma scolded.

“What? I’m just complimenting a job well done,” she said innocently, batting her fake eyelashes.

“He’s not going to get the job done if you keep pestering him,” Thelma chided.

I exchanged a look with Carlos, who was currently hovering behind his husband’s back at the computer, and we both fought a fit of giggles.

Moments like this, I knew I made the right decision .

I wasn’t alone.

I had an army of people not only ready to help, but excited to bring Brenda’s Book Nook back to life.

We’d been working our asses off, but nostalgia was high as we shared countless memories that included Mom. There were plenty of tears, but so many more laughs. I hoped Mom was smiling down on this mismatched group of book lovers, laughing right along with us.

“The curtains turned out great, Lotti,” I said.

“Thanks! I’ve been saving that fabric for a couple of years, waiting for the perfect project.”

“I’m honored to have them here.”

“So, I have some bad news, and some terrible news,” Patrick said from behind the computer at the register.

His grim tone squashed the happy mood instantly.

Carlos had convinced his accountant husband to not only review the books for Brenda’s Book Nook, but to stay on for the first month to help set the store up for success.

The grim expression on Patrick’s face made me wonder if he was regretting his offer. “Which news do you want first?”

“Just hit me with it,” I said.

“There are more outstanding invoices than we originally thought,” Patrick said, his tone an apology. Not that he nor anyone else huddled at the bookstore tonight had a thing to be sorry about.

“Why am I not surprised?” I muttered.

“How much damage are we talking?” Thelma, one of the primary new investors, asked.

“Twelve grand.”

“Total?” Carlos asked .

“On top of the eight thousand we already accounted for,” Patrick said. “So, twenty total.”

“Fucking Margene,” Thelma muttered before she remembered Opal was at the back of the store.

My niece had the choice to hang out at the bookstore with me or at the hardware store with her dad and grandpa while they did inventory.

She was here, curled up on a beanbag—one so worn it needed replacing before we re-opened—reading Husker a book about Colorado wildlife.

If she noticed the cursing, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Sorry,” Thelma apologized.

“What’s the terrible news?” I asked hesitantly.

“Some of these vendors have already sent you to collections.”

A knot coiled in my stomach, making me regret my earlier decision to order nachos from the Mexican restaurant down the street.

Collections added an extra layer of complication we didn’t need.

“Maybe we don’t tell my dad about this,” I said to the group.

Dad had been by earlier to chat about the state of the business.

He’d kept the utility payments current and used his savings to shore up the outstanding payroll.

But he couldn’t do more until the sale of the building was final without dipping into his retirement fund—which I was absolutely not going to allow him to do.

Even after the sale, paying off the second mortgage was the priority.

If, and only if there was anything left, he’d help pay off the outstanding debts.

Because he hadn’t officially signed over the business to me yet, he tried, once again, to talk me out of doing this. To let him file bankruptcy before trying to save Mom’s store bled me dry. He even suggested closing Brenda’s Book Nook so I could start a brand new business of my own.

But I just couldn’t.

I was already in this. I made a commitment not only to the book club members, but to myself.

And to Mom. Brenda’s Book Nook was the next chapter in my life.

After the last few years that nearly broke me, and the last year I spent merely existing, I was ready for my life to have purpose again.

Saving the bookstore that shaped my childhood seemed like a pretty damn good way to accomplish that.

“I hope your mother is haunting Margene’s ass,” Thelma muttered.

“She is,” Opal piped up, causing everyone to turn their heads to the back where she sat with Husker. “Karma is catching up to her.”

Sometimes, my eight-year-old niece said the oddest, yet most profound things. I couldn’t help but hope she was right. But even if it were wishful thinking, it warmed a spot in my heart to know she felt such conviction.

“Good,” Thelma said.

“Karma’s going to bite her right in the behind,” Lotti said. “With shark’s teeth.”

“How does that look?” Beckett stood back from the display window now covered by a set of curtains that reached the raised landing. He’d drawn them closed, ensuring they were the right fit.

“It’s perfect,” Lotti said. “And just in time, too.”

Tomorrow morning, I was heading to Omaha with my brothers, Beckett, and Aspen to pack up my former life into a moving truck.

But the book club was showing up in force for a large sidewalk sale.

Dylann, Betty, and Carol Ann were around town today hanging flyers.

Lila—despite all the packing—was blasting the sale all over social media.

Our goal was to clear out as much of the oldest inventory as possible, even if it meant selling them for next to nothing. There wasn’t a single book in the store that was returnable due to its age. Whatever didn’t sell, we would either put in a bargain bin, or donate.

“Are you all sure you’ll be okay without me for the next couple of days?” I asked for at least the third time tonight.

“I say this in the most loving way possible. But would you please stop trying to control everything and just let us do this, honey?” Carlos pleaded.

“We’ve got your back,” Lotti reassured.

“She’s right. Plus, you haven’t seen hustle until you’ve witnessed Dylann work a crowd. I dare anyone to make it past the store without buying at least one book when she’s on shift,” Thelma added.

“It’ll be fine,” Beckett said, offering me one of those easygoing smiles that had the ability to short-circuit my brain.

I still couldn’t decide how I felt about his offer to help with the move. Luke and Connor could handle loading the truck on their own. But selfishly, I wanted him there. “Are you sure you can step away from all the work you have to do?”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and locked his gaze with mine. “It’s two days, Red. Not two months. ”

Tingles skittered down my arms from the contact.

They skittered into other places down south as well, which made it hard to maintain eye contact.

The room did that weird thing again, where everything and everyone around us blurred and muffled.

It would be so easy to close what little distance remained between us.

To feel his hard body pressed against mine.

I studied his Glacier National Park T-shirt to keep my eyes off his lips.

“I don’t want to get on your Nana’s bad side any more than I already am.”

“Nana’ll come around.”

He sounded so sure of himself. I wanted to believe him. But I was playing with fire, and we both knew it. So, I stepped back until his hands fell away and the room refocused.

“Opal, honey, you about ready to go?” I called to my niece.

“Five more pages,” she hollered back.

“What do you want me to do about the outstanding invoices?” Patrick asked. “The new ones?”

“I’ll move some money over tonight. Get them paid this week if we can.”

“Sweetie, you have investors too,” Carlos reminded me. “You don’t have to take on the financial burden alone.”

“I know,” I said, averting my gaze from Beckett’s. “And I appreciate that. But trust me. There will be plenty more things to invest your money in. Let me worry about getting us back in the black.”

After a quick huddle to go over the plan for the sidewalk sale once more, we called it a night. I waited as Thelma, Lotti, Carlos, and Patrick filed out.

“You okay?” Beckett asked as we waited for Opal to finish reading Husker his book. Odd, considering he never sat still long enough for me to read him more than a paragraph of anything. But that dog kept glancing between Opal and the book, almost as though he understood her.

“Overwhelmed, but okay.”

“You need to unwind some of that stress,” Beckett said, his voice low. I couldn’t decide if I was imagining the suggestive part, but I was too tired to talk myself completely out of it.

“Any suggestions?” Not too tired to flirt, apparently.

“I can think of a few.” Beckett traced my jaw with a single finger. I didn’t remember him stepping so close. Or was I the one? When his finger reached the bottom of my chin, he tilted my face up, bringing our lips dangerously close to one another.

“Do they involve that mouth of yours?”

“What would you want me to do with my mouth?” he asked, his voice low. The gruffness in his tone caused a ripple of pleasure to travel the length of my body. It settled between my legs, because I knew exactly where I wanted that mouth.

“We’re ready to go!” Opal announced, the clap of the book she was reading the return to reality I needed.

I stepped back just as Husker rushed us, wedging himself between Beckett and me. I, of course, was stuck with his booty. He looked up at the counter, where Mom used to keep a container of treats. I made a mental reminder to fix that next.

“You could also try writing,” Beckett said, shifting to a suggestion that was more kid-friendly at Opal’s approach.

“Maybe,” I said, though any attempts I made at Mateo’s book still fell flat. I wasn’t as convinced that Diana would never write another book again, but I certainly didn’t feel confident enough to set a release date for the next one.

“Maybe the two go hand-in-hand,” Beckett said. “Or is it mouth to—” He purposely didn’t finish his sentence, but his flickered gaze did. My core tingled with want. I wanted so badly to revoke the no benefits part of our friendship.

What’s stopping you ?

“Your next book will be your best one yet,” Opal said, her young tone all matter-of-fact, as though her opinion was a simple-known fact.

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I didn’t say it.”

I exchanged a glance with Beckett, who seemed as confused as I was.

“Who did?”

“Grandma Brenda.”

Opal clipped Husker’s leash to his collar and led him to the door. As though her words didn’t just completely shake me. I glanced back to the paranormal romance section, where I last smelled her perfume. Maybe it was wishful thinking.

Or maybe Mom knew something I didn’t.

“Is she—” Beckett asked, nodding at Opal .

“What?”

He shook his head. “Never mind. We should get back to the farm. It’s late, and we have an early morning.”

With one last look at the store, I flipped the lights off. A hint of Mom’s perfume lingered by the front door. But whether she was really there, or I just wanted so damn badly to believe she was, was up for debate.