“Nana would come back from the dead to kill me,” he chuckled. Rex grabbed a box in the grass and carried it to the fold-out table in the garage. “These are the books, by the way. Finally found the right box.”
Jordan’s eyes grew to the size of saucers, and he nearly knocked over a rack of clothes to rifle through the box of dusty books. “Holy shit,” he gasped, pulling a novel out and inspecting it closely. “This is the only book Vivienne Hallaway ever published.”
“Who?”
Jordan made a face like Rex had just asked him the most offensive question ever. “Um…what do you mean, ‘who?’ You don’t know about our state representative’s foray into romance? Back in the ‘80s, Joan Holmes published a shifter romance that she tried to scrub from existence when she ran for office in the ‘90s. She basically had it pulled from print, and it was damn near impossible to find. Everyone clowned her for it, but she still won, and the romance community has kind of made a legend out of her.”
“So, they’re everywhere, then?”
Jordan looked up from the cover of the book he stroked with his finger. “They?”
“Romance writers. It’s not just women sitting at home writing while their kids take a nap, yeah?”
“Exactly,” Jordan said. “People think of this lonely cat lady substituting affection in real life for fake people kissing, but there are so many people of any gender writing this stuff.”
Rex took the book from him and flipped through it. “So many different people reading it, too. Is this thing worth any money?”
“Hell yeah. Goes for a few hundred online, especially one that looks this good.”
“Well, it’s yours. If you want it.”
“Are you serious?” Jordan couldn’t believe it. Three years ago, he’d considered splurging and buying a copy off eBay to add to his collection, but he just couldn’t justify it. It was still early on in his obsession with the genre, but he’d always dreamed of one day having a copy of Claws of Attraction for his shelf.
Rex shrugged. “Sure. I can’t think of anyone else Nana would rather give it to.”
Jordan covered his joy by opening the book and flipping through it. This was really his. He almost felt selfish for taking anything else from Nana Bailey’s collection, but Rex encouraged it, telling him that she’d want to share. With a little more encouragement, Jordan sifted through the box until he got his fill.
That alone made all the hard work of setting up—and the subsequent time that went into running the sale—worth every last bit of effort.
The garage sale had been far more profitable than Rex had ever imagined possible. They hadn’t gotten rid of all of Nana Bailey’s belongings like the racks of her clothes or all of her figurines, but what they did sell was quite substantial.
Two of her loveseats had been purchased by one of the managers at the Sunset Village motel, her dishes were now in the hands of a single mother with a huge fetish for posting old china on Instagram, and most surprisingly, nearly all the books Jordan left behind sold quite well.
To treat themselves for a day of hard work and as a sign of gratitude, Rex offered to buy dinner. Jordan put up no arguments, giving him free rein to choose what they ate.
Vietnamese it was.
Jordan clung to Rex as they drove back to Nana Bailey’s home, the bag of food resting in the crook of his arm as he hugged himself tight to Rex’s defined back.
With nothing to sit on in the living room, Jordan and Rex settled on the rug near the fireplace. Rex knew it wasn’t much, but it was preferable to sitting on wood. He smirked to himself, pleased with possible innuendos and wondering if Jordan might have a different opinion on that.
“Hey, I, uh... I know I probably don’t say it often, but thank you,” Jordan murmured.
“What are you thanking me for? You’re the one who helped me today.”
“You gave me all these new books. And you’re helping me with Meet Cute Club.”
“You ever hear of that saying about scratching each other’s backs?” Rex asked. He dug into their bags and handed Jordan his food.
“I know, but I mean it. Thank you. For helping me.”
Rex glanced Jordan’s way and shook his head. “You and these damn books, I swear. You’ll be the first man to ever marry someone’s entire bibliography, watch.”
“It’s just that…this club is all I have right now.” Jordan dropped his gaze to the tray of fried rice in front of him, picking at a piece of chicken absently.
“What do you mean?”
Jordan seemed to struggle with his words, but finally he got it out. “Do you remember the day Lana said she’d be leaving the club?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, right before the meeting started, I got into it with my boss. They kept asking me to do stuff that wasn’t in my job description, and I told them that I refused to do it without a raise.”
Rex nodded, covering his full mouth as he said, “Seems reasonable.”
“That’s what I thought,” Jordan snorted. “But apparently, that was just too much for them. They said they wouldn’t pay me, and I told them I wouldn’t do the work then. Then I basically quit my job. God, I’m so stupid…”
Jordan buried his head in his hands and let out a self-deprecating laugh that Rex felt was too close to a sob. He put down his spring roll and scooted closer to the man.
“You didn’t quit your job, Jordan. Those assholes made it impossible for you to work with all the stuff they were throwing at you. You made the right decision.”
Jordan shook his head. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“I learned a long time ago that these corporations don’t give a damn about any of us. Nana died, and my boss wouldn’t even give me time off to drive here for her funeral. I quit that very same day.”
Jordan looked up at Rex, horror on his face. “They wouldn’t let you have a few days off to bury her?”
“Nope. And I don’t feel bad about it for one minute. So don’t you feel bad about it, either. You’ll find a new job, even if you have to work at Barney’s or something.”
Jordan cracked a smile. “Barney is pretty cool. I bet he’d let me work there in a heartbeat.”
“You’d look cute in one of those little blue and white striped uniforms, too.”
“Whatever,” Jordan chuckled, turning his head to keep Rex from seeing his smile. “Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for helping me. I lost Lana and my job in the same day. I don’t want to lose the club, either.”
“I get it, JJ. But that’s not gonna happen, alright? You said you got a few people calling about possible membership, right?”
“Yeah, three or four. No definitive answers yet, though.”
“Those will come soon enough. Don’t worry.”
Jordan tilted his head at Rex and asked, “How are you so sure about everything? You talk about things like you already know the outcome.”
Rex waited until after he’d mixed chili sauce into his container of pho before he said a word. “I know my own limitations. I know what I’m good at, what I’m capable of, and what’s a realistic expectation of myself. I never commit to something I don’t think I can do. That way, when I say I can handle something, it always happens.”