thrilled that Ashlynn had found her soul mate. The light-hearted hairdresser, Desiree, was a perfect complement to Blaise’s sometimes-too-serious librarian daughter. They made a delightful couple.
Ashlynn was embarking on a new phase of life, and Blaise, though thrilled for her, felt a bit at sea. As a single mother, her whole world had revolved around her daughter. But now Ashlynn had found someone who would come first in her life. As it should be. Still, there was a plaintive little voice inside Blaise that cried, “ What happens now ? What happens to me?”
As the vehicle stopped to discharge and take on passengers, she turned her head and found the dark-eyed man watching her. More flutters in her middle. She smiled, then looked away, feeling unaccountably shy. He was well dressed in a suit and tie, an expensive-looking briefcase beside him. When she dared another glance from the corner of her eye, he was looking out the window. As if he sensed her, he turned and their gazes locked.
This time she felt more than a flutter. A thrill rippled straight to her sex. Oh God. As though he knew the effect he had on her, the man smiled. She chickened out first and broke the connection. Then she gasped and quickly tugged the bell cord. She’d almost forgotten her errand.
Larry rolled up to the curb. “This isn’t your stop.”
She slipped her purse strap up to her shoulder. “I want to stop in at the Tattered Page before the shop closes. Have a good weekend, Larry. See you Monday.”
She hurried down the steps and gave a little wave as the bus doors closed. For a fleeting moment, her gaze connected once more with the stranger’s. He wasn’t a regular, so she’d probably never see him again. The bus pulled away, and Blaise felt a little twinge of loss.
****
She loved the used bookstore. Loved how the bell jingled when she opened the door, the slightly musty odor of the old books, the narrow aisles and high shelves crammed with books. Though things were a tight fit, comfy chairs were squeezed into corners so readers could sit and enjoy. The Tattered Page was cozy, not cramped. The atmosphere intimate. Just stepping inside put Blaise at ease.
Today, though, her thoughts were back on the bus with the dark-eyed stranger. He’d been a rarity in her well-ordered, day-to-day life. Something unexpected. Exciting.
A white-haired gentleman stood behind a large mahogany desk. “Hello, Blaise.”
“Hello, Mr. Miłosc. I got your postcard. My book’s come in?”
“Indeed, it has.” Though the proprietor had a telephone, he preferred to send handwritten postcards to customers, informing them the special books they’d ordered had arrived. He turned and perused a cluttered shelf behind him. “Ah, here it is.”
She smiled as she lightly smoothed the cover. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, with illustrations by Jessie Wilcox Smith. Just touching the book inspired warm memories of the evenings spent reading it with Ashlynn.
“That’s the correct edition, I trust?”
“Yes. Absolutely. And it’s in great shape. Thanks so much. How much do I owe you?”
As Mr. Miłosc took her cash and counted out the change, Blaise pictured her daughter’s reaction to the gift. Though she’d already bought the engaged couple something from their wedding registry, the book was a personal gift for Ashlynn alone. A special token of a mother’s love.
Her purchase completed, she strolled among the stacks, luxuriating in the freedom to browse. Though the shelves looked jumbled, Mr. Miłosc had items arranged by category. It didn’t take her long to drift to her favorite section.
Silly at her age to feel embarrassed about enjoying erotica. After all, she was past—far past—the age of consent. Maybe the embarrassment came not from reading but from knowing these books were as close as she’d get to sexy times in real life.
Nothing kept her from dating again if she wanted to. The question was, did she want to? She was happy with
Ashlynn was embarking on a new phase of life, and Blaise, though thrilled for her, felt a bit at sea. As a single mother, her whole world had revolved around her daughter. But now Ashlynn had found someone who would come first in her life. As it should be. Still, there was a plaintive little voice inside Blaise that cried, “ What happens now ? What happens to me?”
As the vehicle stopped to discharge and take on passengers, she turned her head and found the dark-eyed man watching her. More flutters in her middle. She smiled, then looked away, feeling unaccountably shy. He was well dressed in a suit and tie, an expensive-looking briefcase beside him. When she dared another glance from the corner of her eye, he was looking out the window. As if he sensed her, he turned and their gazes locked.
This time she felt more than a flutter. A thrill rippled straight to her sex. Oh God. As though he knew the effect he had on her, the man smiled. She chickened out first and broke the connection. Then she gasped and quickly tugged the bell cord. She’d almost forgotten her errand.
Larry rolled up to the curb. “This isn’t your stop.”
She slipped her purse strap up to her shoulder. “I want to stop in at the Tattered Page before the shop closes. Have a good weekend, Larry. See you Monday.”
She hurried down the steps and gave a little wave as the bus doors closed. For a fleeting moment, her gaze connected once more with the stranger’s. He wasn’t a regular, so she’d probably never see him again. The bus pulled away, and Blaise felt a little twinge of loss.
****
She loved the used bookstore. Loved how the bell jingled when she opened the door, the slightly musty odor of the old books, the narrow aisles and high shelves crammed with books. Though things were a tight fit, comfy chairs were squeezed into corners so readers could sit and enjoy. The Tattered Page was cozy, not cramped. The atmosphere intimate. Just stepping inside put Blaise at ease.
Today, though, her thoughts were back on the bus with the dark-eyed stranger. He’d been a rarity in her well-ordered, day-to-day life. Something unexpected. Exciting.
A white-haired gentleman stood behind a large mahogany desk. “Hello, Blaise.”
“Hello, Mr. Miłosc. I got your postcard. My book’s come in?”
“Indeed, it has.” Though the proprietor had a telephone, he preferred to send handwritten postcards to customers, informing them the special books they’d ordered had arrived. He turned and perused a cluttered shelf behind him. “Ah, here it is.”
She smiled as she lightly smoothed the cover. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, with illustrations by Jessie Wilcox Smith. Just touching the book inspired warm memories of the evenings spent reading it with Ashlynn.
“That’s the correct edition, I trust?”
“Yes. Absolutely. And it’s in great shape. Thanks so much. How much do I owe you?”
As Mr. Miłosc took her cash and counted out the change, Blaise pictured her daughter’s reaction to the gift. Though she’d already bought the engaged couple something from their wedding registry, the book was a personal gift for Ashlynn alone. A special token of a mother’s love.
Her purchase completed, she strolled among the stacks, luxuriating in the freedom to browse. Though the shelves looked jumbled, Mr. Miłosc had items arranged by category. It didn’t take her long to drift to her favorite section.
Silly at her age to feel embarrassed about enjoying erotica. After all, she was past—far past—the age of consent. Maybe the embarrassment came not from reading but from knowing these books were as close as she’d get to sexy times in real life.
Nothing kept her from dating again if she wanted to. The question was, did she want to? She was happy with
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