"Well, thanks for understanding. Good night."
The door closed behind me, and I was immediately surrounded by darkness. I looked up and down the street in search of my car, but I was still feeling a bit dazed and couldn't remember where I'd parked. I was just starting to panic when the door creaked open and Ms. Hallie asked, "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'm just trying to find my car." And then it hit me. I wasn't looking for the diamond-white BMW I'd driven for the past two years-the car that my father had given me on my sixteenth birthday. I'd traded it three states back for an older, four-door Nissan with a Honk If You're Horny sticker on the back bumper. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I spotted my new prize parked across the street. I pointed to it and told her, "Oh, there it is!"
"Okay, dear. Drive safe."
She watched as I rushed across the street to get in my car. I could see her standing inside the door as I inserted my key and turned the ignition. She was still standing there when there was only a clicking sound as the engine refused to turn over. I tried over and over to get that stupid car to start, but the thing wouldn't budge. I knew I was in trouble. Ms. Hallie had warned me that this wasn't a good part of town, so I knew staying put wasn't an option. Just as I was starting to panic, I heard a tap on my window. I glanced up and found Ms. Hallie standing there. "Is everything okay?"
I didn't know what compelled her to come out and check on me, but I was so relieved that she did. I eased my door open and said, "My car won't start."
"I see that. Why don't you come inside? I have plenty of room at my place. You can stay with me. We can have someone come see about your car tomorrow."
"No. I couldn't put you out like that."
"Sure, you can. Besides, I'd love the company."
As great as her offer sounded, I wasn't sure what I should do. I had no idea who she was or why she was willing to help me. "I don't know."
"Honey, it's late, and if I had to guess, I'd say even if your car was running, you have no idea where you're headed."
"No. I don't guess I do."
"That's what I thought. Why don't you just take me up on my offer? I have a pot roast in the oven, and I'm gonna whip up a batch of mashed potatoes. I'd love for you to join me."
"That sounds so good. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"I'm positive. Now, grab your things and let's go get us a bite to eat."
"Okay."
I did as she said and grabbed my bag out of the back seat. Once I'd locked up the car, I followed her back into the store. As we headed upstairs to her apartment, she turned to me and asked, "Do you have a name?"
"Umm … Yes, ma'am. I'm … Alex. Alex Carpenter."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alex."
I never dreamed that I would find my sanctuary in a small book store in the middle of Memphis, Tennessee, but I did. Once Hallie realized that I didn't have a place of my own, she not only offered for me to stay with her, she insisted on it, and not only that, she gave me a job working at the book store. I don't know what I would've done without her. She knew I was running from something and was concerned for me. I could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at me, but she never asked questions. It was then that I realized why she seemed so familiar to me on the day we first met. She reminded me of my mother. They both loved unconditionally and with all of their hearts.
I wanted to tell her about my past, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words. Finding out the truth about my mother's death nearly destroyed me, and since the day I'd learned what really happened, I left home and never looked back. A part of me knew that running away wasn't the answer, but I felt trapped-imprisoned by the weight of the hatred I felt for the man who was responsible for taking my mother from me. I simply had no choice. I had to get the hell out of there, away from him-my father-and everything he represented, and save what was left of my sanity.
It had been almost eight years since the day I'd left home and found myself living with Hallie, my guardian angel. She showed me a life that I never knew was possible, a life filled with love and joy, and I absolutely adored her for it. During those times I'd spend listening to her stories, I felt safe in the world she'd created for us, like my past was just a distant memory. Hallie helped me see the endless possibilities of my future. Whether she realized it or not, she hadn't just given me a place to stay. She reminded me how it felt to have someone who truly cared about me, put me above others, and there was nothing in this world that could've felt better.
When Hallie died last year, I was completely heartbroken. She had been such a strong force in my life, and I had no idea what I would do without her. But in true Hallie fashion, she was always thinking one step ahead. Without even telling me, she'd left me the bookstore, along with the apartment upstairs. Even from the grave, she was looking out for me, and I was proud to continue her legacy.
Every morning, I woke up early and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee, water the plants, and dust the shelves. I'd learned from Hallie that presentation was everything, so I wanted to make sure that the store was perfect before I opened the doors. While I was rushing around, I found myself wondering if this would be one of those mornings that he'd be around-the unbelievably hot biker who made my knees tremble and breath quicken. I knew very little about him, just that he'd stop by the bookstore from time to time, and while it was obviously not his intention, his routine had sparked my curiosity. He'd enter the front door, and after a brief greeting, he'd make himself a cup of coffee and find his way to the back of the store. Once he'd picked out a book, he'd make his way over to the very sofa that I'd found to be so comforting on my first visit and sit there for a half hour or so, drinking his coffee and reading silently. When he was finished, he'd place his empty cup in the garbage and put his book back in its proper location, leaving no sign that he'd even stopped by for a visit. As he made his way to the front door, he'd place a twenty on the counter and bid me farewell.
At first, I found his little routine intriguing, especially with his peculiar behavior, but over time, I'd started to look forward to him showing up, and this morning was no different. As soon as I had everything ready to start the day, I went over to unlock the door. I quickly glanced out the window, and butterflies rose to my stomach when I spotted him getting off his Harley. I silently cursed myself for having such an instant reaction to a man who rarely even spoke to me. There were times when I'd try to strike up a conversation, but quickly realized that small talk wasn't my strong suit. I'd ask him random questions, hoping that it would trigger a lengthy response, but I never got much out of him other than one word answers. I didn't exactly mind it. With each answer, he'd reveal a little more about himself, making me curious to know even more. I unlocked the door, flipped over the Open sign, and rushed to the front counter, trying to look like I was busy working on an order. When he walked in, I glanced up and my throat suddenly became dry when I saw how good he looked in his tight-fitted t-shirt and faded jeans. His gorgeous eyes skirted over to me when I smiled and said, "Morning!"
With little expression, he replied, "Morning."
He walked over to the side table and made himself a cup of coffee. Once he was done, he glanced back over to me before making his way to his spot on the sofa. I let him be as he skimmed through his book of the day, and I tried to focus on the few customers who filtered in, answering their questions about a particular book or author. I tried my best to ignore him entirely, but every so often, I'd find myself sneaking peeks over in that corner. I just couldn't help myself. I knew so little about the man who spent his mornings with me, and he wasn't exactly forthcoming about why he was there. My mind was still drifting when he came up and tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. I wasn't surprised by his actions. It was something he did every time he came into the store. Normally, I'd just leave it alone, but something compelled me to say, "You know … you don't have to do that."
My breath caught when he stopped and turned to look at me with those beautiful blue eyes. "And what if I want to?"
He was standing right in front of me, just a few feet away, and suddenly I couldn't form a complete thought. I'd been around handsome men before, plenty of them, but never had I been so close to a man like him-the kind who inspired romance writers in the thick of the night. My eyes dropped to his chiseled jaw and full lips, and all I could do was just stand there stammering like an idiot. To make matters worse, he shifted his stance so that the oscillating fan blew on him in just the right direction, sending his scent spiraling towards me. Damn. Why did I have to go and open my big mouth?