Heartsville 01 - Bookmarked (Piper Vaughn) (4 page)

Brittany flashed a white-toothed grin. “Why don’t you give us a few minutes, Mark?”

“Sure.” Mark stepped out of the office and pulled the door shut behind him. He walked the store again, double-checking the area they’d cordoned off for the line. The table displaying the new Jack Drake book sat to the left of the entrance. There were additional copies near the registers and several boxes in the storage room to replenish stock when needed.

Mark fussed with the already neat stacks of hardcovers until his father called him over to the registers.

“Was that them ringing the doorbell, Markell?”

“Yeah. They’re in the office.”

“Good. Clara just left. She said she’ll be back to check the refreshment table in a couple of hours.”

“Hey, Mark? These are the tickets we’re using, right? They were sitting on a table upstairs.”

Mark turned to see Angie waving a roll of blue raffle tickets. “Crap, I must’ve left them there earlier. Yep, and that reminds me, we should bring the prize basket up front so people’ll be tempted to buy tickets. Do you have the book stamp too?”

Angie nodded. She would be manning a small table to the right of the entrance, where she’d hand out wristbands for the signing, sell raffle tickets, and stamp any books the customers brought in. The gift basket was a donation from Compass, and Mark had been informed it would contain exclusive Shepherd Knight swag, one-of-a-kind Jack Drake and Thaine LeFlore bobbleheads, and signed copies of the first two volumes of the upcoming graphic novels—a prize any fan would covet.

When Britt had told him about the contents of the basket, Mark had a brief fantasy about rigging the raffle in his favor.
No one would ever have to know
, his brain whispered, because damn, he wanted those bobbleheads. He wouldn’t do it, of course… but he’d probably pet the basket a little when Brittany and Shepherd weren’t looking.

“Should I start passing out the wristbands?” Angie asked. “The line’s getting long.”

Mark looked at the clock mounted behind the checkout counter. Half an hour until open. “Might as well. We don’t want to make anyone wait if they don’t have to. When you run out of this first batch, remind them we’ll be starting again at six.”

“Will do.”

Angie grabbed the stack of Tyvek wristbands. A swell of excited voices carried into the bookstore as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Based on the social media response, Mark knew some diehard fans were coming from throughout the States. He felt bad having to put a cap on who got in, but Bookmarked could only hold so many customers at once, and Shepherd couldn’t realistically be expected to sign books for eleven hours straight. The best Mark could do was warn people to arrive early for a chance at a wristband, which he’d done online and in all their ads. The rest was beyond his control.

The door opened again and Adam breezed in, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. “Morning, all. Looks like we have a few cosplayers out there. Should make for some interesting shots.” He spotted the refreshment table and rushed over. “Oh, lemon bars! They didn’t have these yesterday.”

“Only one. Save the food for the customers.”

“We need sustenance too,” Adam said, voice muffled by his mouthful of pastry. “How am I supposed to take pictures if I’m too weak to lift my camera?”

Mark snorted. “All right. I’m going to check on our guest of honor. If he’s willing, maybe we can open the doors a few minutes early.”

He headed back toward his office, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans as he walked. A myriad of emotions churned inside him. Excitement about what this signing meant for Bookmarked. Happiness about the response so far. Desperate hope for the day to go well. Nerves about being near Shepherd again. Mostly nerves, if he were being honest, and it had nothing to do with his admiration of Shep as an author. Despite Shepherd’s rudeness, Mark was still attracted. Did that make him pathetic?

“Probably,” he muttered under his breath.

He knocked on the door to the office before pushing it open. “Okay, guys. Ready to get this show on the road?”

****

The signing went even better than Mark could’ve hoped for. As he chatted with the people waiting in line and helped his father ring up customers, he felt back in his element, as if he’d banished the moody alien that had body-snatched him so many months before.

Periodically he checked on Shepherd, keeping him supplied with fresh drinks. Brittany stood like a sentinel at Shepherd’s back, and true to her word, she stepped in whenever a fan lingered too long or tried to get touchy-feely. For his part, Shepherd remained pale and stiff, but Mark could tell he was making an effort to smile and engage the readers as he signed their books. It clearly cost him, though, and by the time the first round of signings was over, Shepherd looked anxious and clammy with sweat—especially when he noticed people were already forming a queue on the sidewalk for the next session.

Promising to return in a few hours, Brittany practically swept Shepherd out the back door.

“What’s up with him, do you think?” Adam asked once Bruno had left to pick up lunch and Angie was distracted replenishing the ravaged book displays.

Mark shrugged. “Dunno. Anxiety issues maybe.”

Adam bit into another lemon bar—his fourth of the day by Mark’s count. “I don’t see the attraction. He’s got that whole broody thing going on, sure, but…. Well, he looks pained, like he hasn’t taken a crap in five days. Maybe what he needs is a laxative.”

“Shh!” Mark swatted him on the shoulder. “Behave.”

Adam gave a muffled laugh. “I only speak the truth.”

There were customers browsing nearby, so Mark lowered his voice to a near whisper. “There’s just… something. I feel drawn to him.”

“Well, he certainly likes watching you.”

Mark arched his brows in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. The camera catches all, trust me. Whenever you’re in his line of sight, he stares.”

Mark caught himself smiling dopily and smothered the expression. “Yeah, well, beyond e-mails, we’ve exchanged only a few sentences of actual conversation. He’s impossible to read. I still feel like he only agreed to this signing out of guilt.”

“Who cares? Bookmarked needed this.” Adam swept his gaze around the store. “This place is hopping today.” He brushed crumbs from his shirt and straightened up from where he leaned on the counter. “I’m going to the studio. These pics aren’t going to edit themselves, and I know you want them on the site ASAP. I’ll be back at five thirty.”

Mark nodded absently, his thoughts still caught up in the mystery of Shepherd Knight. He wanted to know more. Could he catch Shepherd and try to talk to him without Brittany interfering? It was worth a shot. He’d felt Shepherd’s interest before, and if Adam was right, that interest hadn’t faded.

Maybe they
could
get past the awkward tension between them. Maybe all they needed was to pull up a blank page and start from scratch.

****

Mark’s opportunity came when an urgent call forced Brittany to leave an hour before Shepherd had finished signing. Her son had broken his leg during a football game, and she rushed off to meet her husband at the hospital. Her departure left Shepherd visibly unsettled.

After Shep signed the last book, he all but jumped up from the table, fleeing toward the back of the shop while Milo, a florist who worked at Bloom Box down the street, was still rambling and gushing his thanks.

Mark stared after him. “Dad, can you lock up? I’m going to go check on him.”

Bruno murmured his assent, and Mark threw Milo an apologetic look before hightailing it to the office, where Shepherd sat trembling in one of the chairs.

Mark quietly closed the door and leaned against it. “Are you all right?”

“I… just give me a sec. I need… I need a moment.”

“Want some water?”

Shepherd buried his fingers in his dark, sweaty hair and nodded without looking up.

Mark went to the front to grab a bottle from the refreshment table. When he returned to the office, Shepherd accepted it from him with a shaky hand and a self-conscious expression.

“Thanks. Sorry about that.”

Mark took the seat next to his. “Don’t apologize.” He hesitated. “Was it a panic attack?”

Shepherd shook his head. “No. But nearly.” He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a long drink. “I don’t… I don’t do well with strangers.” He sighed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s why I’ve never done a signing before. Small talk is… difficult. It’s never come easy to me. I can’t think of what to say, and I either clam up or lash out.” He gave Mark a rueful look. “You experienced the second one that night upstairs. And then again when you called to ask me about the signing.”

Mark sat back in his chair. “That explains a lot, actually. I’d thought… well, before I spoke to you that one night, I’d thought you might be receptive to my flirting. Then I worried my fanboy craziness had scared you off.”

Shepherd laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “Oh, I was receptive. I just suck at flirting in general. I kept wanting to say something, but when you figured out who I was….” He sighed. “I panicked, and I acted like an asshole. I’m really sorry. It wasn’t you. You were fine, and I should’ve apologized a long time ago, but I was too embarrassed to come back. I thought I’d wrecked any chance I might’ve had with you, not to mention coming across like some high-strung diva. I wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d taken my books off your shelves.”

Mark chuckled. “Nah. It upset me, yeah, but I’d never deprive the customers who need their Jack Drake fix.” He bit his lip and met the rich sable of Shepherd’s eyes. “Why did you agree to the signing, if it’s so hard for you?”

Shepherd drew in a slow breath. “Well, I felt guilty, for starters. Not only for the way I treated you, but because I like this shop. I didn’t mean it when I said I didn’t care. It was a haven of mine for a while there, and I don’t want Heartsville, or you, to lose it. I also thought maybe a smaller signing might help me overcome some of my fear, and….”

“And?” Mark prompted when Shepherd trailed off.

Shepherd’s mouth took on a sheepish slant. “I’d hoped for another chance to make a good impression. Instead I let my neuroses get the better of me.” He leaned back and gestured at himself. “And here I am, probably reeking of flop-sweat and looking a mess.”

Mark reached over to lay a tentative hand on Shepherd’s forearm. The muscles flexed under his fingertips, and Shep’s heat radiated through the thin material of his T-shirt. Mark resisted the urge to move closer so he could feel that heat all over. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It was a long day. I’m exhausted myself. And for this being your first signing, I think you did great. I don’t think most people could even tell there was an issue.”

Shepherd cast him a dubious glance, yet he smiled, fully and for the first time ever in Mark’s presence. Mark’s breath caught at the way the expression transformed Shepherd’s face, brightening his features and crinkling his eyes at the corners. Without his normal severity, he looked sexy and playful and approachable… and Mr. Darcy help him, if Mark had been a young miss in a period drama, he might have swooned right then and there.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Shepherd said. “I don’t foresee Comic-Con being in my future anytime soon, though.”

Mark laughed, breathless from nerves and the strum of raw attraction coursing through his veins. “Maybe not. Baby steps.” Straightening his back, he took a leap. “How about I treat you to dinner once we close up here? Riverview Diner?”

“No.”

Mark flinched, yanking his fingers from Shepherd’s arm. Mortification made his face burn.
Stupid, so stupid.
How could he have misinterpreted the situation so badly? “Oh—”

“No!” Shepherd grabbed his hand back and squeezed it tightly. “I’m sorry. I told you I was bad at this. I didn’t mean
no
no. I meant not tonight. How about a rain check? I really do feel like I stink right now. I’d like to go home and shower. Maybe tomorrow? You have another couple of authors coming in to sign, right? How about I meet you here after you close?”

Mark swallowed as the flash of hurt and humiliation at Shepherd’s rejection eased. “Um. Yeah. We close at seven on Sundays. I’ll probably be ready to go around eight.”

Shepherd released his hand. “Good. Great.”

“Great,” Mark repeated calmly, as if he wasn’t inwardly squealing and doing cartwheels from this unexpected turn of events. He sat there grinning stupidly at Shep, until he suddenly remembered he had a store to close and employees to assist.

Mark shook himself and shot a guilty glance at his watch. “Sorry. I should go help them straighten up. Do you need a ride home? Brittany drove you, right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Shepherd said. “It’s only a mile or so. I can walk.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’ll help me unwind.”

Mark stood. “Okay. Well, take as much time as you need here. You can go out the back whenever you’re ready. The alarm’s not on.”

“Thanks.”

Mark paused on the threshold to the office and looked at Shepherd over his shoulder. He wanted to stay, talk… just be there with Shepherd. But they’d made their plans, and there was work to be done. Still, he lingered, needing confirmation, reassurance he hadn’t imagined the last five minutes. “So, tomorrow? Eight o’clock?”