“Why should they resent you?” he asks. “You didn’t take me away from her. You didn’t even really come on to me until I made the first move.”
“They don’t know that, Dean, and besides it’s irrelevant. It’s a classic story straight from high school. The old girlfriend and her BFFs always resent the new girlfriend.”
“You’re a helluva lot more than my girlfriend, Liv.” He frowns. “You’re my wife. And I won’t apologize for defending you. Anyone has an issue with you, they have to take it up with me.”
His protective tone is back, and again I have to admit I like it. He’s the only person who has ever defended me.
“I just don’t want them to resent me more,” I say.
“Okay, look.” He spreads his hands in the universal male gesture for what the hell do I do now? “What do you want me to tell them?”
I sigh. “Nothing. But please, don’t compare me to Helen anymore. In fact, don’t even mention us in the same breath.”
“That’s a rule I can follow,” he says, pulling me in for a bear hug.
Then he tilts my face up to his so he can give me a heart-melting kiss that makes my lingering irritation dissolve.
“You and me, beauty,” he reminds me, his eyes gentle.
“You and me, professor.”
When we return to the kitchen, Paige and Joanna already have dinner on the table. I keep quiet for most of the meal, still not liking the thought of what Helen might have said. Or the fact that Joanna West likely agreed with her.
I help clean up after dinner, then go upstairs to change into my nightgown. I power up my laptop to check my email. There’s a message from the loan officer of the bank with the subject line Loan Status.
My stomach twists as I click to open the message.
Dear Mrs. West,
We regret to inform you that your application for a small business loan has been denied for the following reasons…
I stop reading and close the email. I already know the reasons. And while this is the answer I’d half-expected, I couldn’t help hoping that maybe I could do it.
I forward the letter to Allie, typing “Sorry” in the body of the email. I’d warned her nothing might come of this, but again part of me had wished for a different outcome.
I suppose I could apply with other banks and companies, but there’s no reason why the response would be different. Nothing about my finances and collateral will change anytime soon, unless I list Dean’s assets. Which I don’t want to do.
After opening a new window, I type “how to save a bookstore” into a search engine and make a list of my findings. Poetry readings, concerts, a used book section, newsletters, membership, a mail-order book website.
I compile the information into a document and send it to Allie. Then I email my supervisor at the Mirror Lake Public Library and ask her if she has any ideas for either increasing Allie’s business or joint programs the bookstore can do with the library.
“Hey, I got an email from Nancy the realtor,” Dean says as he comes in and heads toward the bathroom. “Says she has a few more showings lined up for us when we get back.”
“Great.” I try to sound enthused as I turn back to my research.
When Dean emerges from the bathroom, he’s wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and no shirt. I take a moment to admire him as he walks across the room and gets into bed, putting his reading glasses on and picking up a book from the bedside table.
Pleasure uncoils inside me. I love the contrast of his scholarly demeanor with the outright sexiness of his muscular chest and arms. It’s a look that belongs only to him. And is only mine to enjoy.
“Hey, Dean?”
“Hey, Liv.”
I climb onto the bed. “Why did you follow me that day at the registrar’s office?”
“You mean after you left?”
“Yeah. I was upset and hurried out of the office. You followed me. Why?”
“I wanted to help you.”
“Why?”
“Because you said we.”
“I said Wii? The video game thing?”
He laughs. “When the clerk said you couldn’t transfer your credits, you said, ‘There must be something we can do.’ There was a problem, and you knew you were part of the solution.”
“Seriously?” I sit back on my heels, a little disappointed. “That’s why you came after me?”
“Because you were resilient and strong and determined, yes.” He puts the book aside and tugs me closer, warmth brewing in his eyes. “And because you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. When I first looked at you, my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. I wanted to kiss you right there on the sidewalk. You were wearing a white T-shirt and your jeans had a rip across the thigh, and I had to force myself not to stare at your astonishingly sexy body. Then when you stayed and talked to me… so damn pretty with your hair all messed up by the wind… I couldn’t let you get away.”
“Well.” A flush of sheer pleasure sweeps over me. “That’s better.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Did you already know I was working at Jitter Beans when you came in a couple weeks later?” I ask.
“No. That was the best coincidence of my life.”