“Coach Dash!” Scotty, Haylie’s son, ran out from behind a display, his sandy hair falling into his eyes. “Look, Mom, it’s Coach Dash!”
“Hey, buddy. Good to see you.” Dash glanced at Amber, but she quickly averted her eyes.
“Hello again, Dash,” Haylie said flirtatiously, and held up a bag. “I just bought your book for the signing.”
“Fantastic. I hope you enjoy it.” Dash knelt so he was eye to eye with Scotty and noticed Amber’s dog coming to her side. “You did great at practice today, buddy. Did you have fun?”
“Yes! I’m gonna be a fireman like my uncle Chet, but Mom says I can play football, too.”
“That sounds like a good plan. Just be sure to keep your grades up. School is important.”
“I will!” Scotty promised.
“Attaboy.” Dash ruffled Scotty’s hair as he pushed to his feet and noticed Amber watching him with a warmer, curious expression. It sure looked good on her.
“Can we get ice cream now?” Scotty asked his mother.
“Dinner first.” Haylie glanced at Amber. “Chat soon?”
“Sure,” Amber said sweetly. “Bye, Scotty.”
“Bye, Miss Amber!” Scotty yelled.
Haylie slowed beside Dash as she headed for the door. “See you at the field tomorrow.”
The bell chimed as they left, and his eyes met Amber’s again, the air around them crackling as he closed the distance between them. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thanks.” She petted her dog’s head. “Are you…looking for a book?”
“I guess that would make sense, wouldn’t it?” The store was warm and welcoming, with a dog bed beside the register and a nook of couches and mismatched armchairs in the rear, surrounded by more bookshelves and displays. To the right of the reading nook was the children’s section, with a cylindrical bookshelf made out of stacked wooden crates, decorated with faux vines and flowers climbing up the sides. The top of the shelving unit was lined with potted plants and ivy, giving it a treelike appearance. There were dozens of small carpet mats, which he assumed were for children to sit on while they looked at books. The store wasn’t just welcoming, it was homey, and Amber had obviously put her heart into every inch of it.
“But no, I’m not looking for a book. I’m looking for a bookstore owner.” He stepped closer, and her breathing hitched. “Still busy tonight?”
She pressed her lips into a fine line. “Mm-hm.”
“With what? Your book club?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, as if he’d given her a great excuse. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“You must have a very busy book club schedule. How about tomorrow night?”
“I can’t.” She continued petting her dog, but at least she wasn’t looking away.
“Breakfast tomorrow?”
Her eyes widened. “Busy.”
“Should I just meet you at your parents’ house again?”
She laughed softly, walking over to a table displaying THIS MONTH’S PICKS, which included his book along with several others. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“I can’t believe you won’t go out with me. How about lunch tomorrow?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“Book club again?”
She nodded, her smile widening.
“What kind of book club is it?”
“Erotic roman—” She blushed fiercely, her eyes widening. “Romance. It’s a romance club. I mean a romance book club. We read love stories.”
“You’re getting more interesting by the second.” He imagined sweet, bashful Amber getting all hot and bothered over erotic romance novels. “You know, everything is better in real life.”
“Oh my goodness,” she whispered, looking away.
He stepped closer, so she had no choice but to look at him. “Come on, Amber. Let me take you to dinner. I’ll show you a better time than you’ve ever had.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. I’m sorry, but you’re just not my type.”
“Are you kidding?” He couldn’t temper his amused tone.
She shook her head.
“Wow, I’ve never been told that before.” He raked a hand through his hair, trying to figure out why he wasn’t her type.
“Sorry,” she said sweetly.
He picked up one of his books and showed her the cover, which had a picture of him holding a football, smiling like he’d won the Super Bowl. “It’s my smile, isn’t it?”
“What? No. I love your smile.” She quickly added, “I mean, it’s a nice smile.”
“I don’t know. That doesn’t sound very convincing. It’s okay. I know my smile is a little ridiculous. My sisters give me grief about it all the time. They say I have a toddler smile.”
She laughed. “A toddler smile? What does that mean?”
“You know, the kind of smile that looks fake. It’s too big.” He smiled, showing her what he meant, and she laughed again. “So it is my smile. That’s a little unfair. How can I fix that? It’s the only one I’ve got.”
“I promise it’s not your smile,” she said. “Your sisters are wrong.”
“Are you sure I’m not your type? Because I see the way you look at me, and I can tell the difference between disinterest and desire.”
“I’m sure.” She lowered her eyes, her voice unsteady.
“I don’t get it.” And he wasn’t going to give up. Not when her intrigue basically radiated off her despite her efforts to contain it. He picked up the romance novel displayed on the counter behind a ROMANCE OF THE MONTH plaque. The cover boasted a shirtless, chiseled guy looking seductively at the camera. “I can assure you that I’m way better at whatever the guy in this book does. You want romance? Done. Sexy stuff? Never had a complaint. Cheesy lines? I can learn some. You like the cover model, right? I’ve got great abs. Look.” He lifted his sweater.
“What are you doing?” She turned around and covered her face, her dog moving with her, looking anxiously up at her. “Cover those things up! You’re just too much, that’s all.”
He lowered his sweater and set the book down, suddenly very aware of the dog’s reactions to the changes in her behavior. He was an idiot. Why didn’t he recognize that earlier?
She peeked over her shoulder.
He held his hands up in surrender. “The coast is clear. No abs in sight. I’m sorry. Do I…cause problems for you? Physically, I mean? Is that why your dog is acting like that?”
She turned around, eyeing him apologetically.
“Sin explained that you have epilepsy and that the dog was a seizure response dog. I would have asked you last night instead of Sin, but you rushed away. I’m sorry. Should I have not asked him? I’m not well schooled in political correctness when it comes to things like this.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s not like I try to hide it, and his name is Reno.” She studied Dash’s face for a minute. “You’re just too much for me, Dash. I’m a homebody. I like book clubs and Meetings of the Female Minds, and having breakfast with my family.”