I’m ten minutes late to my own party by the time Jackson and I arrive at the bookstore, and the first person I see back by the display of romance novels and lube is my dad. I get that weird feeling that happens when you see someone out of place—a teacher at the mall, your dentist browsing the aisles of Target two towns away—that disorienting feeling of all your worlds colliding.

I glance at Abigail, who’s flitting between the tables, and she shakes her head, no, this wasn’t her doing.

I walk up to him, ready to diffuse a scene if I need to. “Dad, what are you doing here?” I can’t find Gayle’s angular face among the crowd, but still. My dad is here, holding a bottle of lube in one hand and a Sex on the Beach cocktail in the other.

He shrugs, a flustered smile spreading across his face. “I’m here to support you.” The strangest mix of pride and embarrassment washes over me because, once again, my dad is here. Holding a bottle of lube. Yuck.

I drop my eyes to the rich red-and-gold pattern of the carpet. Might as well get in all my apologies tonight. Wipe the karma slate clean. “I’m sorry I lied about how I planned to use the money. I will pay you back.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“What?” I look up, tears threatening to spill over, but my dad’s voice is warm.

“You don’t need to pay me back.”

“But I told you I was using it for school.” I cringe. So much for looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“You told me you were taking an online marketing class, if I remember correctly.”

“Right.” Where is he going with this?

“Well, did you learn marketing? Advertising? How to spread the word?” He gestures around the packed room and I shrug. “And how about that world-building in fiction? Did you learn that too?”

I blush, thinking about the marketing text I recited for Jackson. “Yeah. I did learn those things.”

“Then consider the money an investment in your education. In fact, here.” He digs into the pocket of his chinos and hands me an envelope. I peek inside and my heart pounds. It’s all the money I’ve been slipping under his door.

I blink, stunned. “Dad, no.” This is more than I deserve.

Before I can speak again my dad circles his arms around me and pats my back. “I’m happy you’ve found a way to create, no matter what your, um, medium might be. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t trust me.”

I blink back grateful tears and look up at him. “Thank you Dad. And it’s not you, it’s me. I’m working on it.”

He squeezes me again and steps back. “No crying at your party.”

“Right.” I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you even find out about this event?”

My dad shrugs. “I follow Penchant on Instagram.”

“Right,” I say. Of course he does.

“And Twitter.”

It’s hard to process the fact that my dad has been supporting me without my knowledge, that at some point after he found out about my business, he jumped on social media to watch everything grow. Hell, I didn’t even know he was on social media to begin with. The whole thing is so surreal I almost laugh, but a familiar face makes its way over to us before I can say anything else.

“Mandy?” I wrap her in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

My friend grins at me. “You know me and a party. I just can’t stay away.”

“Well, I’m glad you came.”

“Me too. Look at all these people who came out for you. This is amazing.” I follow her gaze around the room and have to agree.

The romance section of McCafferty’s Books is more crowded than I’ve ever seen it. Whether or not that’s due to people’s sheer curiosity or amusement has yet to be determined, but people from my town cluster in the aisles, sneaking bites of Better than Sex cupcakes and paging through the novels Abby has recommended.

These are my customers, in every shape and size, reading the back of my lube bottles. It’s the proudest I’ve been in a long time, and I can’t wipe the smile from my face. This moment is worth every wrong turn, every bad decision. It doesn’t hurt that the whole store smells like books and sugar—like the perfect date night, if I wasn’t working and surrounded by a ton of strangers.

Mandy cocks her head and studies me, a small smile on her lips. “You’re going to stay here, aren’t you?” She gestures around the room. “In this town?”

“Yeah. I think I am.” Until I said the words, I didn’t realize how true they are, but admitting this to myself feels like the biggest relief. Everything I need is here. My business, Jackson. But my smile drops as I look at my friend. “I really wanted to come back to Boston with you. We had plans.”

She waves away my protest. “It’s all good. Because me and that guy…” She gives me a wicked grin. “Well, do friends get a lube discount?”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

A warm, gentle hand presses against the small of my back and I know without looking that Jackson is there. Yes, please. More. I lean into his touch. I didn’t know how much I’d been missing it, the feel of his hands on me, my body coming alive.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but there’s someone who has questions about a wholesale order,” he says against my ear. The timbre of his voice sparks a molten desire in my belly. Out on the grass earlier, we kissed for another few minutes, but when Jackson mentioned the time, we left before things could go further. There’s so much we haven’t said. So much I want to do.

I excuse myself from the conversation with Mandy and follow Jackson across the room.

Energy races up my spine as I weave through the crowd. When Jackson finally stops in front of a middle-aged woman wearing a navy swing dress, I realize I recognize her. She’s the cashier from the grocery store, and in the past few weeks she’s seen me buy more bread and cheese than I’m proud of. We’ve exchanged small talk about the weather, but I’ve never properly introduced myself. Still, she shakes my hand, an eager smile on her face.

“Jackson was telling me you might have some wholesale opportunities.”

I nod. So far I hadn’t thought past selling bottles to consumers, but if I’ve learned anything in the past few weeks it’s not to say no to an opportunity just because it scares you. “What did you have in mind?” I ask.

“Well, my boyfriend purchases sex toys for his company. Maybe he could buy some lube wholesale and sell it with the toys as a package deal?”

“That’s a great idea.” I smile wider and hand her a business card. “Send me an email and we can get a quote started for you right away.”

The woman glances down at the card, a pretty design I’d thrown together. I’d even splurged on rounded corners and extra thick paper for the cards. A look of confusion crosses her face.

“Oh,” I say. I know exactly what she’s looking at. “Ignore the Delilah part. I’m Natalie Bloom.”

She tucks the card into her wallet. “That’s what I thought.” It looks like I’m going to have to buy some new cards, but it’s a small price to pay to be me. All of me.

For the rest of the night, people come out of the woodwork to talk to me about lube, including someone who runs a dating website and wants to do some promos with Penchant products. It turns out that in our sleepy town, more people have sexy secrets than I ever knew. All they needed was a conversation starter to share their stories.

It’s funny because I’ve spent my whole time back in Swan’s Hollow feeling alone, feeling like people would judge me if they knew about my business, but we’re more connected than I ever knew. The fact that I sell through the whole case of lube I brought with me is icing on the top.

Jackson and I stay at the store for a few more hours, talking to people and handing out business cards. As the clock winds down and a final call to order comes over the loudspeaker, Mackenzie, the girl from the children's section who's got a crush on Jackson, sweeps into the romance section, all willowy limbs and floaty hair.

I feel a prickle of awareness go down my spine.

“Jackson,” Mackenzie says, like they’re old friends. “Congrats on tonight’s success. I heard you did all this.”

She touches a hand to Jackson’s bicep and I freeze. I get that feeling like I did back in high school when I used to watch Jackson with other girls, that pang of jealousy and regret, but I quickly shake it off. He’s here with me. Because of me. And when I see the way he looks at me, everything else falls away.

Jackson steps out from Mackenzie’s grasp discreetly, and slides an arm around my waist. “Nope, not my doing at all. This whole thing was Natalie’s brainchild.”

He kisses the top of my head, and the whole side of my body goes warm from the heat of him. It doesn’t matter that my high heels are pinching my toes or that my makeup is still half-smudged from my tears in the parking lot. It matters that I’m here, doing what I love with people I love. I did this. I tighten my grip on Jackson. We did.