Saved by the bell.
All thoughts of his cougar problem evaporated, replaced by surprise as the woman stepped through the door.
Razor sharp wit, brilliant mind, and geektastic sense of humor, all wrapped up in effortless class. Cecily Dixon. The one who got away.
With a population of only a little over five thousand, Wishful was small enough that they ran into each other often—at the coffee shop, at McSweeney’s Market, on the town green. Since her boss was about to marry Reed’s cousin, Cam, he even occasionally saw Cecily at family events. But at no point in the last three months had she deliberately sought him out. So what had brought her in today?
Christoff Bergan, the other Chicago transplant who’d followed Norah below the Mason-Dixon line, came in behind her.
“Back again?” Reed asked him.
“I’m just riding shotgun with the damsel in distress.”
Cecily rolled her eyes and crossed over to the counter. When she came straight to him instead of diverting to Brenda, Reed felt a surge of curiosity and hope.
“I need your help.”
“Name it.” He’d do almost anything to make up for the crap impression he’d apparently left her with back in the summer.
“My cousin’s birthday is next week, and I’m not going to make it home for the party, so I want to send a nice care package.”
“Okay, what did you have in mind?”
“Well, she’s really into comics, but I have no idea what she’s read and what she hasn’t. And as my knowledge of the subject extends only as far as exactly how many plot holes Chris Hemsworth’s abs make up for, I thought I’d consult someone who was rather more of an expert.”
Reed felt his lips twitch. “I can’t decide if that was a compliment or an insult to both my abs and my level of pure geek.”
“You can talk pure geek when you can quote the entirety of Pitch Perfect, including all the music and choreography—”
“—while under the influence of a pitcher of strawberry daiquiris,” Christoff added.
Reed lifted a brow.
“Yeah, that happened.” Cecily shrugged and dropped her gaze to his stomach, as if she could see through the button-down he wore. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure your Captain America board shorts were a compliment to both abs and geekdom.”
He flashed back to summer, to the feel of her hand trailing up and down his chest as they lay by the lake, watching the stars and lightning bugs come out.
“So maybe you could channel some of your natural Steve Rogers and help a girl out?”
Reed blinked, coming back to the now and hoping she meant post-super serum Steve. Putting on his best Chris Evans impression, he said, “Happy to help, ma’am. Right this way.”
He led her over to the wall of comics and graphic novels. “Tell me a bit about your cousin.”
“She’s turning seventeen. She’s brilliant and independent and stubborn and fierce in the best possible way.”
“So she’s your mini me.”
Cecily cut her eyes to his, a faint wash of pink staining her cheeks. “She also towers over me by a good five inches.”
“What you lack in stature, you make up for in personality.”
She flashed a rueful smile. “Yeah, let’s go with that. Anyway, I’d love to introduce her to something new and awesome.”
“Well, if I was going for new and awesome, with fantastic art, and a serious showcase for strong women, I’d give her this.” Reed reached past her to grab an issue off the shelf.
Cecily sucked in a quiet breath, drawing his gaze to her mouth. He’d only kissed her once—a languorous exploration that’d slid a long-running flirtation into serious what the hell had taken him so long. Looking at those glossy, pink lips, he wanted to do it again. Did she still taste like honeysuckle?
Reed realized he was all up in her space, but before he eased back, he shifted toward her, just a little. She didn’t move back, and her dove gray eyes dilated before they dropped to his mouth.