Naughty Neighbor - Lauren Runow Page 0,81

was given when she entered the event. “Oh, sorry, I’m Trudy.”

“Do you live around here?”

“I do. And I was so glad when I heard you were coming to Milwaukee. You’re my unicorn author, and I never thought I’d get the chance to meet you.”

“Aw, thank you for enjoying my books. And, yes, this was an easy signing for me to attend, as I only live a little over an hour away.” I pick up the books she put on the table and start signing each one with a quote from the novel.

She makes a gasping sound, and I look up to see if she’s okay.

“This is him, right? This is Jake? The man you used as a muse for The Artist?” she asks, nodding her head and pointing toward Jake, who stands taller, making sure she sees his shirt.

Yes, he is very proud of the shirt he had made that says, Her Inspiration, across the front of it. I can’t help but laugh when I notice him showing it off like a damn peacock.

“I see you follow my social media,” I say as I raise a brow to Charisse.

She’s made it her job to share as much of my and Jake’s real-life love story on my Instagram as she can get away with. I had to hold her back on using a photo she’d found on my phone of a naked florist in a hot tub.

Jake takes the opportunity to lean forward to reach his hand out to shake Trudy’s, who visibly swoons at his Colgate smile and soft-as-satin touch. I turn to Charisse, who laughs as I roll my eyes in fake annoyance.

The truth is, I love how comfortable he is in his own skin. It makes me feel better in my own. Our lives even blend together so easily. I write while he’s at work, and we spend every free minute exploring the city or curling up on the couch, watching a chick flick. We hang out with Charisse and Melody as a couple at least once a week, and he has introduced me to half of Chicago since he seems to know someone everywhere we go. I still need my space though, so I partake in my weekly girls’ night and have coffee with my mother. If I’m on a deadline, I’ll park myself at Starbucks for a few hours. Jake says he hates being apart, but I think the space makes him want me more, so it’s a win-win.

I hand Trudy back her books and take a photo with her before saying good-bye and welcoming other readers.

I have my head turned, taking a quick sip of water when, to my surprise, I see my mom standing in front of my table, carrying my most recent book.

“Mom?” I ask, not sure if I’m seeing things clearly.

She grins from ear to ear.

“What are you doing here? Why are you in line?” I ask, looking around like I’m missing something.

She beams with pride. “I’m here to have my daughter’s book signed.” She hands it to me.

“I could have signed it anytime for you. You didn’t have to drive all this way, and you certainly didn’t have to wait in line. My goodness, how long have you been waiting?”

She shrugs. “I wanted to experience the signing. Someone”—she points a finger toward Jake—“thought it might be good for me to witness the fandom for myself. I must admit, hearing the chatter around me of how moved people are by your prose has made it all worth it. It has been … quite an eye-opener.”

“Really?”

“You’ve always been brilliant. I’m just so proud of how many people you’ve touched with your words.”

I stand up with tears in my eyes and wrap my arms around her. “I love you, Mom.”

She hugs me back just as tightly. “You should be very proud of what you’ve created and who you’ve become. I know I am.”

As I step back, I wipe the tear falling from my eye. I’d be remiss if I didn’t give my mom a little credit for the success of the new series with Winston Arms. Complex issues and real-world troubles are woven into these stories. They have heart—and not the overly fanciful kind. It’s the kind that makes you believe that not only does love exist, but inner peace too. My mom showed me that was possible.

“Here, let me take a picture of the two of you,” Charisse says, holding up my phone and motioning to the both of us.

We stand next to

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