The Next Always Read Free Page B

more books filled shelves, tables, cases in a way that encouraged just browsing around.
    Another old building, it had seen war, change, the lean and the fat. Now with its soft colors and old wood floors, it managed to hold on to the sense of the town house it had once been.
    It always smelled, to him, of books and women, which made sense since the owner had a fully female staff of full- and part-timers.
    He found a just-released Walter Mosley and picked that up as well. Then glancing toward the stairs to the second-floor office, Beckett strolled through the open doorway to the back section of the store. He heard voices, but realized quickly they came from a little girl and a woman she called Mommy.
    Clare had boys—three boys now, he thought. Maybe she wasn’t even in today, or not coming in until later. Besides, he’d come for coffee, not to see Clare Murphy. Clare Brewster, he reminded himself. She’d been Clare Brewster for ten years, so he ought to be used to it.
    Clare Murphy Brewster, he mused, mother of three, bookstore proprietor. Just an old high school friend who’d come home after an Iraqi sniper shattered her life and left her a widow.
    He hadn’t come to see her, except in passing if she happened to be around. He’d have no business making a point to see the widow of a boy he’d gone to school with, had liked, had envied.
    “Sorry for the wait. How’s it going, Beck?”
    “What?” He tuned back in, turned to Laurie as the door jingled behind the customers. “Oh, no problem. Found some books.”
    “Imagine that,” she said, and smiled at him.
    “I know, what are the odds? I hope they’re as good for me getting an iced cappuccino.”
    “I can hook you up. Iced everything’s the order of the day this summer.” Her honey brown hair scooped up with a clip against the heat, she gestured to the cups. “Large?”
    “You bet.”
    “How’s the inn coming along?”
    “It’s moving.” He walked to the counter as she turned to the espresso machine.
    Pretty little thing, Beckett mused. She’d worked for Clare since the beginning, shuffling work and school. Five years, maybe six? Could it be that long already?
    “People ask us all the time,” she told him as she worked. “When, when, when, what, how. And especially when you’re going to take down that tarp so we can all see for ourselves.”
    “And spoil the big reveal?”
    “It’s killing me.”
    With the conversation, the noise of the machine, he didn’t hear her, but sensed her. He looked over as she came down the curve of the steps, one hand trailing along the banister.
    When his heart jumped, he thought, Oh well. But then, Clare had been making his heart jump since he’d been sixteen.
    “Hi, Beck. I thought I heard you down here.”
    She smiled, and his heart stopped jumping to fall flat.

CHAPTER TWO

    HE HANDLED IT. HE SMILED BACK AT HER, QUICK AND casual, as she walked down the stairs with her long, sunny ponytail swaying. She always reminded him of a sunflower, tall and bright and cheerful. Her gray eyes held hints of green that gave them a sparkle whenever her mouth, with its deep center dip, curved up.
    “Haven’t seen you in a couple days,” she commented.
    “I was down in Richmond.” She’d gotten some sun, he thought, giving her skin just a hint of gold. “Did I miss anything?”
    “Let’s see. Somebody stole the garden gnome out of Carol Tecker’s yard.”
    “Jeez. A crime spree.”
    “She’s offering a ten-dollar reward.”
    “I’ll keep my eye out for it.”
    “Anything new at the inn?”
    “We started drywall.”
    “Old news.” She flicked that away. “I got that from Avery yesterday, who got it from Ry when he stopped in for pizza.”
    “My mother’s putting another furniture order together, and she’s moving on to fabrics.”
    “Now that’s a bulletin.” Green sparkled in the gray; it just killed him. “I’d love to see what she’s picking out. I know it’s going to be beautiful. And I heard