The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(22)

He watched me, listening closely, and my mouth snapped shut. He sipped his beer, waiting for me to go on. My face heated.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

He blanched and laughed. “Do what? Listen while you talk?”

A noise of frustration came out of my throat, but I laughed. “That watching thing you do.”

“You don’t like it when I watch you?” His tone dripped with innuendo and my face warmed further.

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. You’re trying to make me uncomfortable so I’ll say more.”

He shot me a roguish grin.

“You like to push my boundaries.”

His eyes were warm but mischievous. “Mhm.” He took another sip of his beer, regarding me over the rim. “You’re so locked up, bookworm, but sometimes you let out another person who I think might be the real you.” He snorted. “Like when you asked if you needed to teach me to read.”

I buried my face in hands and he laughed. “That was so mean. I’m sorry.”

“I liked it.”

I lifted my gaze to his and laughter bubbled out of me. Something occurred to me and I straightened up. “I forgot to tell you.” I pulled my phone out. “Your social media is doing so well. A bunch of the other surfers recognized you from events.” I showed him the main account pages where I had posted footage from the other morning. On the photo app, there was a shot of him at the food truck, shirtless with the top of his wetsuit hanging from his waist. On the video app, I had posted footage of him gliding through the water.

At least half the comments on every video were about how hot Wyatt was. I had smiled as I read them, but at the same time, something pinched under my ribs.

He glanced at the videos and read through some comments before he set my phone back down on the table. “Thanks for doing that.”

“Of course. You’re helping me with, um…” I shrugged, suddenly embarrassed to say it out loud. “It’s fine. I like doing social media stuff.”

“Why don’t you do it for the store? You like it and it would be good for business.”

“Oh. Um.” My mouth twisted to the side and my stomach tightened. My dad had phoned the other morning and I was this close to asking him about social media for the store, but I had chickened out. “You know, it’s not really our thing.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes at me.

“I mean,” I sucked a breath in and shifted in my seat. “My dad likes to keep the store the way my mom had it.”

His eyebrows pulled together and his eyes narrowed further.

One of my shoulders lifted in a shrug and I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

He was doing that watching thing again. I avoided his gaze and focused on sipping my drink.

“He doesn’t want you to make any changes?”

I sighed. It was hard to explain. “He says we have a small-town charm, and anytime I bring up the website or ripping out that ugly carpet, he gets uncomfortable. It was my mom’s store and he still misses her.” My heart twisted. “I do, too.”

Wyatt nodded slowly. “So say your dad changed his mind and was on board for whatever changes you wanted to make, and you had enough money to make it happen, what would you do?”

I bit my lip, a smile growing on my face. “First, I’d get rid of that ugly maroon carpet. I hate that fucking carpet.”

Wyatt burst out laughing. “Whoa, bookworm, language.”

I laughed with him. “Sorry. It’s like something out of a prison or a high school. I’d paint the inside a lighter color to brighten the place up, and add a pretty wallpaper. Something floral.” I leaned in, gaze locked with Wyatt. “Something bold, frivolous, fun, and wild. I’d have a ton of plants inside if I could get them to grow. I’d take photos everyday around the store and post them to social media so people around the world could picture themselves there.” I tilted my head, thinking. “We could have a cool chair near the window that people could sit in and take pictures in. We’d have to get a better website so people could place orders online.”

I remembered something I had seen online. “Oh, and the lighting. I’d get new lighting, something pretty, some antique chandeliers or something fluffy and silly.”

“Fluffy lighting,” Wyatt repeated with a grin.

“You heard me. Fluffy. Books are all about fantasy, getting immersed in a story and characters. People read as an escape, and I want stepping into the store to be like that, too. Plus,” I shrugged, playing with the end of my ponytail. “Why fit in? Why not do something memorable and cool?”

His gaze traveled over my face and he nodded.

“I think if we had endless funds, I’d have the mural repainted. Right now it’s faded and crumbling, and it could be spectacular.” I shrugged. “And the books on the mural?” My nose wrinkled. “They’re outdated. Sure, some of them are classics, but those books leave out a lot of people.” I chewed my lip, thinking about Liya, Max, and Div.

He nodded. “They’re for straight white people.”

“Exactly. And I know my mom didn’t mean to leave anyone out, but I know better. I sell lots of books for lots of people. I don’t want anyone to feel excluded.” A memory passed through my mind and I smiled. “My mom used to say, there’s a story for every soul.” I leaned my chin on my palm. Something happy fizzed in my chest, talking Wyatt’s ear off like this about silly dreams. “I believe it. I believe the right book is out there for everyone. I love that part of my job.”