bell over the door, just like at Shade’s place. Then it was the high shelves lining every single wall, filled to capacity with a jumble of mismatched books. And then it was the comfy chairs and well-used couches toward the back, with wooden tables between them, all of them strewn with magazines and books. Paper. I’d never seen so much of it in my life. And the heavy books and glossy pages weren’t even in neat piles or stacks. They were haphazard. I loved it. I loved the whole place on sight.
How did Shade Ganavan know about this store? It was obvious he liked it—and books. Was he as drawn to the happy disarray in here as I was? He seemed like the kind of guy who liked to muss things up, and if the heat in my belly when I thought about him was any indication, I wanted him to get a little messy with me, too.
Disheveled. Tangled. Warm. Just like his shop and this place. I’d bet Shade didn’t give clinical touches or neat, dry kisses. No, he would lick, devour, and suck.
My pulse surged like that moment when an engine ignites. Thoughts of Shade were distracting me, though, and I blew out a quick breath, trying to get my mind back on track. I was here to sell rare books, not wonder about what that man did in bed.
“Hello?” I called out. There didn’t appear to be anyone here.
After a moment, I heard scuffling on stairs, and a woman I assumed was Susan appeared behind the register, having evidently come up from a lower level hidden behind the counter. She was probably in her mid-to-late fifties, a little on the short side, and totally unruly, just like her shop. There wasn’t a piece of clothing on her that matched the rest. And nothing in the galaxy could ever have matched the flame-red hair that stuck out in corkscrews all around her head.
“Sorry.” Smiling, she made a useless attempt to smooth down her hair. “Just feeding the cats.”
“No problem,” I said. “I like cats.” In theory, anyway. I’d yet to touch one, in fact.
I slid my fingers under the strap of my bag, shifting its bulk a little. Now for the fun process of trying to foist off stolen goods.
I didn’t feel guilty about having taken the books—they’d been completely underappreciated in that billionaire’s sterile basement—but I did feel guilty that the library wouldn’t get them. If they ended up here, though…
I looked around again. Wow. This place was nice.
“I know, I know—the shop’s a little untidy.” Susan’s gaze darted around, turning tenser. “I-I’ll straighten up soon.”
“No! Don’t!”
Her eyes widened at my sudden outburst.
I settled my voice back into a normal volume. “I mean, it’s great. It’s great just the way it is.”
She smiled again, her grin so big I could see the insides of her cheeks. “Are you a kindred spirit, then?”
“Uh… Maybe?” I wasn’t quite sure what she meant.
Her eyes narrowed, dipping up and down to look me over. I couldn’t figure out her look. It wasn’t hostile in any way, but she was still sizing me up—and very obviously, at that.
“White, gray, or black?” she asked.
It would have been a lot easier to answer her question if I’d had any idea what she was talking about, but I decided to just go with it. “None of those colors are much fun by themselves,” I said. “Mix them up?”
She nodded. “Stripes, then. Stripes it is.”
Huh. Well, weird and wonderful as that was, because anything inexplicable that didn’t kill you was actually pretty damn cool in my opinion—the Black Widow, for instance—I had business to conduct. I pulled out one of the books.
“Would you be interested in anything like this?” I asked, turning it over in my hands so that she could admire the old-style hardcover binding. The artwork on the cover jumped right off the page, looking like something straight out of a fairy tale. I hated to give it up, especially before I’d read it, and the kids on Starway 8 would have salivated over something like this, all of them impatiently waiting their turn. Mareeka or her partner, Surral, might have borrowed it from the library for them. I knew of at least one eleven-year-old boy whose eyes would have lit up like starbursts. Coltin loved a good adventure story, and I brought him one whenever I could.
“Hmmm.” Susan took the book from my loose grip and looked it over. “No seal?”