chess match, catching kisses from my black-clad pirate. Those leather pants were just as compelling the second summer as they had been the first.
I was proud of Simon. He had a hard time when we first started making changes, but as others made suggestions and we put them in place, he started to understand Sean’s impact in his community wouldn’t be erased. He even made the biggest suggestion of all: cutting the run of Faire from six weeks to four. I’d mentioned to him what Stacey had said to me about those last two, hottest weeks of the summer being the least busy, and after we spent an evening crunching the numbers at his kitchen table, he realized we were right. Those two extra weeks were like a weight lifted from the whole town. Families with kids in Faire could take vacations at the end of summer; we could hire fewer acts over the course of Faire, which meant more money retained for the schools.
Over the winter I’d found a small apartment on the edge of the downtown area, so I finally got out of April’s guest room. Simon had made some noises about me moving in with him, but I loved being close enough to walk to work. Besides, I couldn’t picture living in his parents’ house, a feeling that only intensified when they came back to town for Christmas and I met them. They were wonderful people—though I retained a little resentment toward them for leaving Simon alone in his grief—but I felt like more of a guest at the Graham home than ever, and I didn’t see that changing if I moved my stuff in there. He didn’t push, which I appreciated, and we alternated time between our two places. I kept a toothbrush at his house, and he kept one at my apartment.
With Faire over again and the rest of August stretched out lazily before us, I went back to work. Chris and I alternated days at the bookstore for the rest of the summer to give us both a break. Simon dropped by sometimes to work on his laptop in the café, and if we made out in the classics section more than once after closing, the books never said anything.
So life had settled into a nice routine by late August, about two weeks after Faire had ended. I was at the bookstore on a Monday, even though it was closed, catching up on online orders, ordering the books for April’s next book club meeting, and other miscellaneous paperwork. I looked up in surprise when the door chimed, but it was Chris, letting herself in with her key.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said. “Aren’t you taking your mom to the doctor today?”
“Already did. Everything’s good, and she’s cleared to go back to Florida in October. Knowing Mom, she’ll be packed up in a week.” She moved past me to the back room.
“She loves it down there, huh?” I grinned at the spreadsheet I was working on, giving it only half my attention.
Chris groaned. She was not a fan of Florida. “Goddamn hot, buggy state with giant alligators waiting to eat your face. I don’t know what she sees in it.”
I snorted, and the door chimed again. I turned in surprise; Chris must have left the door unlocked. “I’m sorry, we’re not open . . . oh, hey.” I smiled to see Simon. Now that Faire was over he’d shaved off his beard, but I’d talked him into keeping his hair longer. Though truthfully, it hadn’t taken much convincing. He liked the way I ran my fingers through it.
That wasn’t the only piece of the pirate he’d retained going into the fall. The silver hoop earring stayed in his ear, even though his pirate days were over for the year. He’d have to take it out during the week at school, of course, but otherwise that small piece of jewelry seemed to be a touchstone for him, reminding him that Simon the English Teacher could have a little swagger too, could smile a little more freely. Captain Blackthorne the Pirate didn’t need to hoard it all.
“Hey.” He leaned across the counter, and I did the same on the other side to collect a quick kiss. “Any news on the summer reading front?”
I shook my head. “Not really. One or two. Your kids are worse than last year.”
He sighed. “Oh, well. I don’t care anyway. Come here.”
“What?” A startled laugh escaped me. “What do you