Chapter Seventeen
PAXTON
*
Uncle Ryland emerged from the back of the shop as I finished up at the end of my shop. He approached the front counter but paused there, frowning at nothing and drumming his fingers on the scarred wood surface.
I recognized the gesture, of course. He'd done it for years, and I knew by now exactly what it meant.
"What's bothering you, Uncle?" I asked him.
"That young man, the one who brought you lunch," he answered after a second, and I felt a little residual blood flush into my cheeks. I hadn't realized that Uncle Ryland noticed Alex showing up.
"What about him?" I asked, trying to sound innocent, like there was nothing improper going on between us.
"I met him the other day, didn't I? He came in and chatted with me before he asked you out. We didn't talk for long, but I was very convinced that he was a great man, and you should go out with him."
"Yes..." I watched my uncle's broad forehead wrinkle. "So?"
He reached up and scratched his thinning hair. "So if I was so convinced that he was good enough for you, why can't I remember anything about the actual conversation? Seems strange. I'm pretty sure that I'm not losing my mind, since I remember everything else. Just not that conversation."
Uh oh. Alex had mentioned that he'd used his power to convince my uncle to like him. But it seemed that the magic wasn't holding – or maybe, if he did it shoddily, someone could figure out what was going on and unravel it? It would be fascinating to study – if it wasn't happening to my uncle.
"Don't worry, Uncle," I said instead, reaching out to place my fingers on top of his, still their drumming. "You made a good judgment call, I think. He's a really great guy, and I like him."
As I spoke these words, I realized that I was telling the truth. I did like Alex, way more than I'd expect for only knowing him a couple of days! Logically, I shouldn't be willing to trust him very far; after all, he'd told me openly that he cheated and blew through life, relying on his power as a crutch. He was, essentially, a fake.
But he'd told me openly, had chosen to be honest with me. And his powers didn't work on me. For a deceitful fake, he'd been incredibly open to me, and I somehow knew that he didn't share like this with anyone else. He'd chosen me, even though I might be the one who could most hurt him.
And whenever he reached out for me, pulled me against that gorgeous, tall, broad-shouldered and muscular body of his, drew my lips up to meet his, tightened his hold on me... even now, remembering it, I felt another little surge of warmth. Yes, I was most definitely attracted to him.
But I'd still heed my uncle's words of caution. I wasn't about to lose my heart to this man, no matter how openly he approached me.
"Well, just be careful," Uncle Ryland said at length, patting my hand with his other, forming a sandwich to trap my hand between both of his. "I know you don't have a man in your life, Paxton, but I would rather that you be choosy than get hurt. I just want you to be safe, that's all."
I smiled at my uncle, even as tears threatened to swell in the corners of my eyes. "I know you do, Uncle," I answered. And I did know. Uncle Ryland came to my rescue after college by offering me this temporary position at his bookstore (which turned out to not be so temporary after all), but even before that, he'd always been my support line. After my parents passed away, he'd been there for me, a comforting rock that never budged. For that, even if he hadn't done anything else for me, even if he hadn't offered me this job, the apartment that came with it, any more help, I still would have held him in highest regard for that strength.
"But be careful about him, in particular," Uncle Ryland continued, and I paused.
"Why? Do you remember something from your conversation with him?"
Again, I saw my uncle's face wrinkle up as he tried to remember. Clearly, whatever magic Alex had worked was messing with his memories. "I know that I liked him a lot," he said slowly, "but I'm still not sure why, exactly. But I can remember that he came across to me as... careless."
"Careless?" I repeated, not sure what he meant.
He nodded. "Yes, careless. Thoughtless. I've known the type before. He's the kind who doesn't always think about the consequences of his actions, thinks that everything will magically fix itself, and it isn't on him to be tactful."
I tried to keep a wince off my face. That did sound a lot like Alex – except, of course, that Alex really could magically fix his issues. But I did suppose that this led him to act surprisingly carefree, believing that he could correct any mistake after the fact.
Of course, that strategy wouldn't work with me, would it? If he screwed up with me, he wouldn't be able to change things. He'd be stuck with his choices, for better or for worse.
But surely, Alex realized that fact. He wasn't stupid, even if he did sometimes seem a bit headstrong in his decisions.
"Don't worry, Uncle," I said. "I'll be careful with him. We're taking things slow."
Traitor, my mind whispered to me, choosing that moment to replay the kiss that he'd given me right here, right in the front of the store, where almost anyone could have walked in and seen us. And you're not thinking about taking things slow now, are you? You're thinking about how soon you can get another kiss like that, and maybe even do a bit more...
No! Bad brain! I winced at the rush of intrusive and sinfully tempting images that followed. I hoped desperately that I could keep the blush off my face, that my uncle wouldn't notice the rush of color and heat to my cheeks and neck and other areas.
Fortunately for me, Uncle Ryland seemed as oblivious to those feminine signals a she was to most womanly things. "I'm glad to hear that, then," he said, lifting his big hands and clapping them together, like a baker dusting off flour. "Now, are you going to be around for dinner tonight?"
I shook my head, once again hit with a reminder of Alex, this time giving me that deliciously naughty grin as he held up a can of whipped cream in one hand and a strawberry in the other. No blushing, no blushing! "I've got plans," I said, hoping he wouldn't ask with whom.
He didn't. "Well, then, looks like it's leftovers and Monday night football for me! Not that I'm complaining. Gotta get to bed early, too, so I can be here to open tomorrow for the customers."
"You know, Uncle, I can be here and open for you if you want," I offered, not with much hope. Even though I literally lived right upstairs from the shop, Uncle Ryland still insisted on being the one to open each morning. I was pretty sure he considered it a point of personal pride, something that he offered for his customers that couldn't be matched by the big chains like Barnes & Noble. Still, I felt bad that he woke up so early each morning, and so I kept on offering to help him, even though he never accepted.
Just as I'd expected, he waved me off. "I've got it, I've got it. You just relax. Can you handle closing up for me?"
"Of course I can." I stepped around the counter, close enough to give him a hug – and then turned him so that I could push him gently towards the front door. "Now, you get out of here! Shouldn't you be retired by this point, you old man?"
He laughed. "Old man, nothing! You just name the challenge, and I'll crush you at it!"
I kept the store open after my uncle left, rolling back home in the same old, rusty pickup truck that he'd driven for as long as I'd known him. I probably could have closed down earlier, as we didn't get a single customer during the last hour, but I remained stubbornly open out of principle. We could be just as professional as a big box store, and with a personal touch that our customers couldn't get anywhere else!
But once five o'clock rolled around, I locked the front door and did one last sweep through the shelves to make sure that I hadn't accidentally locked any prospective customers inside. It had happened before; one time, I locked up and headed upstairs to my apartment, only to hear a frantic pounding coming up through my floor about an hour later. It turned out that one elderly gentleman had drifted off to sleep while reading one of the books he took off our shelves, and he woke up to find himself trapped in the locked store! I apologized profusely, and fortunately, he calmed down once I told him that he could take the book he'd been reading home so that he could finish it in a more proper spot, like his bed.
The real kicker on that tale, I remembered with a chuckle, was that the very same gentleman had come back in a few days later, holding the book that I'd granted to him for free – and insisting that he paid for it, as it had turned out to be such a good story! He even ordered the sequel, an order which I placed through the old, creaky computer in Uncle Ryland's back office. Once again, service and a smile trumped faceless corporate mega-stores!
After I finished my sweep, confirming that no customers had nodded off in the chairs scattered around the store's interior, I returned to the front door to lock up. I opened it – and squeaked involuntarily in surprise at the man standing just outside it.
"Hi." Alex gave me a slow, lazy smile, the kind that sent a little bolt of warmth coursing down my spine to curl up and purr inside my stomach. "Done with your day?"
"Yes, but not ready to see you," I countered, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice and off my expression. "What are you doing here?"
"Thinking about you." Somehow, he managed to sell the blatant, suck-up compliment with an innocent expression. He even batted his eyes! "So, are you going to invite me in?"
"Nope. Store's closed."
He stuck out his lower lip in a pout that should have looked ridiculous, but still managed to somehow be adorable. "What if I bribe you?"
"What are you offering?"
He just kept up that smile, one that promised far more nasty, delectable things than he could ever put into words. That purring warmth in my stomach exploded into flames, urging me to grab him right now, tackle him to the ground, make him take me before he came to his senses and realized that he could do better. Do it, do it!
"I thought you promised me dinner," I said to him.
"We can eat any time tonight you want. Why rush to do that first?"
My long-neglected libido shrieked at me to invite him upstairs, up where there was a perfectly usable bed waiting for us. "I need to go get ready, clean up," I told him. "You'll have to wait down here."
"Really?" He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "You don't even trust me to come and wait inside your apartment? Even if I sit quietly on the couch and don't say anything?"
I was pretty certain that making love to Alex on the couch would be nearly as incredible as making love to him on a bed. "Nope, don't trust you even that far. You'll probably just steal my grandmother's silverware."
He groaned. "Fine, you caught me. You ferreted out my dastardly plan. I'll wait down here. Just don't take forever, okay?"
"I'll take as long as I want," I said, grinning that I'd somehow managed to score an unlikely victory.
He gave me an eye roll. "I never realized how much I took my power for granted until I met you, and you started driving me crazy," he growled. "Go on, get ready. Just know that I'll make you pay for this, later."
Something about the way he said those words, however, told me that the kind of revenge he had in mind involved teasing, torturing me with his exploring hands and hard body, as he kissed me senseless and breathless. Or, in other words, it wouldn't be unpleasant in the slightest.
I gave him one last gloating little grin, and then bounced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, practically floating. Inside my chest, my heart and... other areas... throbbed in tempo with each other, both filled with eager anticipation for the night ahead.