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Piper smirked. “Hungry, Maverick?”

“You could at least call me Mav,” I said after a moment. “And yes, I am. This is hours earlier than I’m used to being awake, and it smells like a dream in here.”

She pulled a tray from the oven and carefully set everything on a cooling rack, then reached into the cabinet above her head and pulled out a small plate. She set a croissant on it with a little, “Ooh, hot!” said to herself, and she set the plate in front of me. “There are little jelly and jam pots in the fridge. Help yourself.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’m baking. You’re hungry. I can’t leave you hungry. It goes against everything I believe in.”

“I think I just fell in love with you.”

She laughed. “Don’t get too comfortable. I could kill you just as easily as I can feed you.”

“Good to know.”

***

I stretched out on the sofa and hit my head on the arm. Motherfucker. I was too tall to be napping on this stupid sofa.

Sitting up, I stretched my neck side to side and rolled my shoulders. The early start had really messed with me, and I was completely shattered. I had no idea how Piper did that every single day without turning into a zombie.

I was a complete night owl. There was something calming about writing in the dark when everyone else was asleep.

Which was a problem since my neighbors in this apartment block had parties at least four times a week. My whole writing schedule was messed up, and I especially needed to sit today and try to organize the notes I’d taken this morning with Piper.

I was going to do that after I’d had something to eat.

I got up with every intention of making a sandwich, since I’d napped through lunch. I was pretty sure I would be ruined for all bread at this point after tasting Piper’s, so thank fuck I still had some left from yesterday.

I opened the fridge for the butter right as a boom came from above my head.

I hoped someone had just dropped a glass and it wasn’t a precursor to an afternoon party.

Another thud followed, and that was chased by a hum that had a suspiciously fast beat.

Fuck me.

There was no way I could work here.

Not if they were already starting in the middle of the afternoon. I really had to fucking move—and now. If I was going to stay here for the next couple of months, I could easily go for a six-month lease and decide what to do then.

The music got louder.

Shit. I had to get out of here.

I abandoned my plans for a sandwich, grabbed my backpack that still had my laptop in, and left as quickly as I could. I didn’t really want to go back to the bakery, and there would be too much noise in the café.

Was there a library here? I don’t think anyone had mentioned one. Shit. Trust me to find a town without a library.

I drove in the direction of Main Street. Surely there I would find somewhere I could—

The bookstore.

Of course.

Maybe Holley, Saylor, and Kinsley would take pity on me and let me camp out there for a while.

I quickly turned in the direction of the store and blew out a long breath. It was the next best thing to a library. I just had to hope that they’d let me work there.

I pulled up a block away and made the short walk to the store. Bookworm’s Books might have been one of my favorite ever bookstores—it was deceptively large, but it had such a charm about it that it really didn’t feel like it.

It was a little like Narnia.

The bell over the door rang as I stepped inside. Saylor was behind the counter ringing up a customer, a very fraught looking woman trying to wrangle two little boys who were running around her legs in circles.

“Boys! Boys, please stop.”

Saylor handed her back her card. “Thank you for stopping by. We appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry about these two.” She tucked her purchase into an oversized tote, slung it over her shoulder, then grabbed their jackets at the shoulder and dragged them toward the door.

I opened it for her, and she shot me a grateful smile with a whispered, “Thank you,” as she literally hauled them outside like they were mere shopping bags.

Saylor laughed as soon as the door shut. “That poor woman. They’ve been absolute nightmares, and she had to buy one of them a book because they ripped a page and she felt so bad.”

“Was the kid happy about it?”

“Ecstatic. I think he did it deliberately after she warned him to be careful because she’d have to buy it if he damaged it.”

“That kid is going places.”

“Right?” She smirked. “Did you need to speak to Holley about something? She’s on the phone with our accountant right now, but you’re welcome to wait.”


Tags: Emma Hart The Introvert's Guide Erotic