The line is excited. Murmurs morph into talking, which becomes more animated by the second. Their excitement is contagious, and it infuses me. Like a symbiotic relationship, they’re happy because I’m here, and I’m thrilled that they’ve all shown up to see me. My fingers cramp, but I wouldn’t give up this experience for the world.
I hand the lady in front of me her book with a smile. “Thank you so much, and best of luck on snagging your dream guy.”
I grab some more bookmarks and arrange them in front of me. A man steps up to the table. I glance up.
Jackson stands before me, book in hand. “Hello, Ms. Fitz. Please sign my copy.”
I have to suppress the instant excitement that seeing Jack generates in my chest. Not even a full twenty-four hours has passed since I last laid eyes on him. This is silly.
I lick my lips. “Sure thing. Who would you like me to sign it to?”
“Just make it out to Bull. He was really impressed with you when you two met. He hopes to see you again really soon. Like, maybe later today?”
A little spark of excitement lights in my belly. I shrug with a grin. I sign the book.
Bull,
Keep your master on a tight leash. A ton of women will try to use this book to catch him.
All the best,
Ronnie Fitz
I hand him the book with a wink. “There you go. Tell Bull I’ll catch up with him later.”
A blonde with even bigger tits than mine, though probably perkier, stumbles up to Jackson. “Oh, my God. Jackson Tremaine! Can I get your autograph?”
Jackson grins at the girl. “Absolutely.”
She turns to me. Her eyes narrow for a moment, but then she smiles. “Can we use your pen?”
“Of course.” I hand Jack my pen. “Be my guest.”
He wags his eyebrows at me like a cartoon villain.
She pulls her scoop neck sweater low, until her boob is at risk of a wardrobe malfunction.
Quick, cover the children’s eyes.
Jack’s grin morphs into a grimace. He turns to me, as though asking permission. Yeah. As if.
I give him a one shoulder shrug. “Not my dairy, not my milk cow.”
“Thanks.” He turns and signs the top edge of her left breast. “You have a good day now.”
She looks panic stricken. “But… can’t we get a picture?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She readies her phone to take the shot. He turns to the side and props his arm on her shoulder, and she turns into him so that her boobs press against his side. She snaps the photo. Jack tries to pull away, but she grabs the back of his shirt and takes a second and third.
Finally, she lets go, only to throw herself at him, all but smearing herself down his front side as she hugs him and profusely thanks him.
The next person in line watches all of this in awe, as do I. At least, by the time the girl lets Jackson loose, I’ve peeled my chin off the floor.
The floodgates seem to open on Jackson as soon as the girl walks away. He’s suddenly surrounded by a growing crowd. My line dwindles.
I let out a sigh.
“Thunder thief.” Shay drags over a chair from one of the tables set up for customers.
“Nah, it’s fine. I had fun while it lasted.”
Jack catches my attention, pleading with his eyes.
I lift an eyebrow and mouth, “Sorry?”
A man steps in front of my table.
I pull my gaze from Jackson, focusing on the only person now interested in having my attention. Oh, he’s big. The guy is probably at least six-three.
I smile. “Hey. How’re you today?”
His expression changes from indeterminate emotion to mad as hell in point-zero-seven seconds. “Are you Ronnie Fitz?”
All the warm and fuzzies I’ve collected all morning scatter like so much dandelion fluff in the harsh, freezing wind coming off this guy’s glare.
I stand, backing up a step. “Yes. Can I help you?”
Shay pushes her seat back and rises as well.
The man steps closer, pushing the table into my legs, and his voice booms. “You bitch. My Sara left me after she read your book.”
My eyes widen. Shay’s hand finds my back, steady and calming.
I square my shoulders. “Sir. I’m so sorry that happened to you, but I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
“She said something about seeing how I’d never be a good partner for her.” He grabs the edges of my table and flips it, sending books, pens, and the rest of the paraphernalia fluttering to the floor.
The world stops. A hush falls over the room.
The man takes another step, reaching for me. I freeze. Shay’s fingers dig into my back.
A hand clamps down on the man’s shoulder as Jackson says, “Sir. I suggest you back the fuck off.”
The man turns, his fist flying right in front of my face. I throw my arms around his bicep. He stops, and his crazed eyes find me.