Goes down easy: Roped into romance Read Free

a man shove back the hood of his navy hoodie before disappearing into the shop’s aisles. “I thought you didn’t want to elope. That you wanted to know what Della could tell you about your wedding.”
    “I did, but I’ve changed my mind.”
    “Fickle, much?” Perry asked, straightening on the stool to peek over the bookcase that ran like a divider down the center of the shop. She saw brown hair flecked with bits of blond and a touch of gray at the man’s temples. She also saw long, long, long lashes that made her want to cry with envy.
    “Probably less than it seems,” Claire was saying.
    “How so?”
    “Well, for example, if I were to have a baby, I wouldn’t want to know its sex in advance.”
    “Hmm,” Perry said, more interested in her customer than in Claire’s attempt at logic. If only the stupid bookshelf were five instead of six feet tall. “Are you and Randy already talking about kids?”
    “Please! It’s way too soon for that. We’re still learning what we can about each other.”
    “Besides your shared cookie fetish?”
    Claire groaned. “I swear. I’m going to be an elephant before we ever set a date.”
    “Maybe, but Randy’s a good guy.” Perry smiled to herself, returning the plumed pen to its base. “He’ll be there through thin and through thick.”
    “Ha! A comedian in every crowd.”
    “I was raised by a woman who sees things she shouldn’t be able to see. I have to get my laughs somewhere.”
    “God, Perry. I can’t even imagine a lifetime of dealing with that. I would think it would be so…I don’t know. Frightening?”
    Perry shoved a hand through her hair, pushing the wild corkscrew curls away from her face. She had never talked to anyone about growing up with Della, about Della having to deal with the truth of her visions. Having to deal as well with both of their fears that the aftermath might one day debilitate her, leaving Perry alone again and too young to cope. Frightening was only a part of it.
    “That. And interesting.” To say the least, which was all she could say for now. “I’ve gotta run. Are you sure you want to cancel?”
    “Definitely,” Claire said, and Perry could almost hear the other woman nod. “But let’s do dinner one night this week.”
    “Cookies for dessert?”
    “What else?” Claire asked, laughing and adding, “I’ll call you,” before ringing off.
    Once she had, Perry was left with no reason to stay at the counter. And even if she’d had tons of work to do there, curiosity would still have gotten the better of her. It wasn’t every day a man who looked like the one an aisle over walked into the shop.
    She climbed down from the stool, closed the leather appointment book and stored it on end next to the cash register she locked out of habit. Then, smoothing down her skirt and the hem of her paisley-print poet’s blouse, she hooked the key ring on her index finger and went to check him out.
    He was well worth checking out. The hint of gray had fooled her from a distance; he was no older than his late thirties, she guessed. He wore jeans and Reeboks with his hoodie. The neckband of a white T-shirt showed above the eyelets where the drawstrings hung loose.
    He stood studying a display of ground marble and resin figurines representing the twelve astrological signs, designed by a local artisan. He held a Taurus bull in one hand, an Aries ram in the other. Perry wondered if she should read anything into his selections or just let it go.
    She nodded toward the figurines. “Those are one of our most popular items. The artist has made quite a name for herself here. A true hometown success story.”
    He didn’t glance up right away. Instead, he silently returned both items to the antique cherry cabinet. Then he turned and stared down at Perry until she was certain she would never again be able to breathe—she who had never been susceptible to the buff and chiseled type.
    His eyes were gray, a dark pewter with silver specks. Up