Lachlan’s arms released me, but his hand rested at the small of my back. Had he been as affected as I was?
Did Iwanthim to be?
Sylvie whistled to gain everyone’s attention then held her champagne glass high. “To new beginnings, to making peace with where we’ve been, and…” I swear her eyes sought me out in the crowd. “To embracing glorious plot twists.” She sniffed against tears. “To the Lost Story!”
That night as I closed the door on the bedroom next to Lachlan’s, I thought of Sylvie’s toast.
It had been meant for Rosie.
But what if it could be for me too?
ChapterTwenty-Two
OLIVIA
The next dayI’d walked in a bewildered trance. Lachlan’s kiss was obviously poisonous, a drug that leeched my mind of the ability to complete a thought, holding reasonable, rational sentiments captive while the scene from last night replayed over and over.
I’d considered bringing up the topic as soon as we got home from the party, but Lachlan had given me a friendly goodnight then departed for his bedroom. I’d listened for fifteen minutes while the shower ran, waiting for my opportunity to knock on his door, but minutes after the water shut off, I’d heard the distinct sounds of a man playing video games while loudly chatting with whom I assumed were online opponents. Lachlan had once mentioned he could lose himself in a game for hours, so I knew our talk would have to wait.
And what would I have said anyway?
Hey, I want to make sure we’re clear that kiss meant nothing?But also:Don’t ever present me with the world’s greatest kiss again.From a PR perspective, those were not exactly strong persuasive leads.
So I’d lain awake all night, staring at my phone, the ceiling, and the constant replay of Lachlan’s mouth possessing mine.
In the kitchen the next morning, Lachlan had acted like nothing had happened. He’d poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me, casually asking about my schedule for the day as if last night had been a figment of my imagination. Did he regret our kiss? Did he wish he could take back every breathless, heart-stopping detail? Or perhaps it hadn’t affected him in the least. What if Lachlan had felt absolutely nothing, while my hormones demanded smelling salts and a fainting couch?
By midafternoon, I couldn’t recall much about the last six hours of work, other than the fact that I’d forgotten it was National Squirrel Lovers Day. Celeste had arranged for a rehab specialist to bring in a few of the fuzzy creatures and explain their healing processes. That had been all fine and good until one saw his chance for freedom and attempted a dramatic escape. Elton’s dog flew into action, hunting the squirrel, who ran all over the green meeting room as Celeste screamed. Chairs tumbled to the floor, people dove for cover, and papers flew like tornado debris. Eventually the rehab specialist collected his fugitive rodent, gathered his things, and left.
Tomorrow was National Alligator Day. I fervently prayed Celeste hadn’t invited guests.
I took a break from my ridiculous thoughts and newly acquired wild animal trauma and drove to the Lost Story Bookshop. I circled the street a few times, struggling to find a parking spot, but there were none to be found. Happy customers poured out of the store, carrying bags whose logo I’d designed. I didn’t want to jinx anything, but all signs pointed to a smashing grand opening.
Ten minutes later a bell tinkled when I finally pushed open the door and stepped inside. And didn’t it do my heart good to see the place buzzing with people? On the air drifted the scents of books and the robust notes of a dark roast coffee. My ears perked at the light music playing overhead and the sounds of book lovers perusing and chatting. People filled every seating area, and a fifteen-person line snaked to the checkout counter, where Rosie and Sylvie rang up sales.
My eyes clouded with a sheen of tears at the sight of Rosie’s grin.
“Need this?” A handkerchief appeared before me, and I startled.
Lachlan. The man who had hijacked my thoughts all day.
Our kiss had been a flirty game, and I’d assumed when I saw him next I’d feel nothing.
That was not to be the case. I felt it all—awareness, warmth, and the strange urge to move closer to Lachlan like he was my sun.
Maybe it was like the flu, and it would pass in a few days. Were there some good multivitamins for this? Did this call for extra vitamin C?
I took the paisley cloth. “This is a pocket square from Paolo’s collection.”
“I thought it was a fancy Kleenex.” Lachlan stood so close his arm brushed my shoulder, sending unbidden shock waves through my system. “I noticed it was a little rough on my delicate nose.”
“I’ll tell Paolo you’re enjoying his hankies,” I said, admiring Lachlan’s dark pants and cashmere sweater. The glasses were back, and so were the unwelcome flutters in my chest.
Lachlan stepped closer and studied my face. “By chance are you crying?”
“No.”
“I didn’t know your judgy eyes could produce human tears.”
