Page 9 of Beautiful Chaos

“Fingers crossed dear.” The woman accepted the challenge.

She gave her a sincere smile and then left her to her reading.

I watched Harper as she slowly made her way in my direction. She stood in front of me leaving a noticeable space between us, I realized I was gawking. She was so kind and gentle-natured toward that lady. most millennials nowadays completely dismiss the older generations and show no patience for them, but Harper seemed different.

I hadn’t witnessed such sincere kindness since my childhood days. Witnessing my mother at the grocery store on the weekends, she took time from her day to chat with all the elderly ladies there.

“Anything I can help you find?” she asked after a moment. I said nothing, only staring back at her like a tongue-tied teenage boy.

Finally dragging my head out of my ass, I mustered up the courage to speak.

“Well, to be honest, I’m not much of a reader,” I said, instantly regretting that response because why the fuck am I in a bookstore if not to buy books?

She raised one eyebrow and tilted her head as if silently asking the same question. Before she could call me out, I added,

“It was my New Year resolution to read more books this year and I’m here to make good on that,” I finished, mentally palming my head.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Her smirk radiated, stretching from the curves of her lips to the crinkles of her eyes.

“But it’s July,” she said matter-of-factly, with a barely audible giggle.

“Yes, that it is,” I answered, fully aware of how dumb I sounded.

I reached for a book on display right in front of us to take the attention off me. I opened the book and began shuffling through the pages nervously.

“This looks like a good one.” I snapped it closed and held it up.

The Period Book. A girl’s guide to growing up.

My Jaw dropped as I read the cover. Heat flushed my face. She let out a big laugh. One that was so raw and inviting. So much so that I forgot completely about being embarrassed and joined her. I saw Harper look over to the woman who sat on an old worn-out sofa at the front of the store. She gave us an evil glare. I put my hands up in a gesture of surrender mouthing the word ‘sorry’ at her. She slowly looked back down at her book, keeping her somber facial expression.

With a chuckle, I said, “Wow, she’s serious about her book, isn’t she?”

“Actually yes. She is here every Saturday, and she reads the same book. It was her late husband’s favorite,” she whispered as we both subconsciously looked back in the woman’s direction. She slowly moved her finger under the words on the page she was fixated on.

“So, unless you are some kind of creep with a menstrual fetish, this display won’t be for you,” Harper teased, thankfully changing the subject,

“What type of books do you enjoy? Maybe I can help find you something?” she said walking away from me toward a huge wall full of row after row of hardback books.

“Well, like I said before I don’t read much so it’s hard to say.” She stood back giving me a once over with one finger tapping her lips and the other arm crossed over her chest, like she was thinking.

I don’t know how I’ve managed not to stare at her lips before, but as she tapped her finger against them, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss her. She saw me staring at her mouth. Her tongue nervously swiped out moistening her lips and her teeth instinctively trapped her bottom lip.

“I’ll say you are an action man,” she said satisfied with her assessment.

I laughed to myself because she was spot on.

“You could say that, but I was thinking something a little different. What are some of your favorites?” I asked her, hoping to get her to talk about herself. She stood there for a moment silently staring off. I thought she wouldn’t answer, but before I could say anything she turned on her heels in the opposite direction.

“Follow me,” was all she said.

She walked to the end of the aisle. Straight to a small shelf in the corner of the store. She pulled two books from the shelf and handed them to me. We stood there as she told me about each of them. In detail, she passionately described the main characters, the plots, and why she loved the author and then she mentioned something about tropes.

I may have been lost for the most part, but becoming lost in her enthusiasm as she discussed books was the most delightful way to lose yourself. Her eyes were alive and bright. The sadness I saw last night was replaced with something else today, and it’s beautiful. It’s like talking about books brought her some sort of raw happiness. I didn’t interrupt her, I was enjoying it.

Sappy girl romance love stories have never been my thing and I’m not even sure I have time to read. Her passion was evident in how she described each one, igniting desire in me to read them all.