“Ma,” I say, drawing out my syllables so she knows I’m onto her. “It’s the middle of my workday. If Bob didn’t do something shady, I’m out of here.”

  Ma’s face falls, and I know she’s aware that I’m not here to play. “Franco.” She sounds almost insulted. “Give me a chance to explain. You just got here. You think Jack can’t handle that shop on his own for thirty minutes? Bob’s sold Chloe one of those big TVs, and he’s charging her—”

  “I bought it. He didn’t force me.” Chloe’s voice is soft, but if she’s interrupting my mother, she has some kind of spine under that afghan-sized sweater. She gives my mother a pained but sincere smile, the honesty in it breaking something open deep in my chest. “I wanted it, Mrs. Bianchi. I’ve got some plans to modernize the store.”

  My mother waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Honey, of course, if you want it, you should buy it. But Bob Horton—”

  The sound of a congested throat clearing in the doorway draws every set of eyes in the kitchen.

  “Lucia, ladies.” Bob Horton wipes his nose along the long sleeve of his blue work shirt, and I can feel my mother bristle beside me. “TV’s up and working, Ms. Harkin. I left your copy of the installment agreement on the counter. I don’t extend credit. So you miss even one payment, and I’ll be back down here to take the set back.” He looks at Chloe harshly, and something in my gut tightens as his eyes rake over her.

  I don’t like the feeling.

  “Your aunt was a nice lady,” Bob added. “Sorry for your loss. But business is business.”

  The unpleasant huffing and shifting on heels from each of my mother’s friends lets me know exactly how they all feel about Bob, his television, and his warning to Chloe to make the payments for the device on time.

  “Thank you, Bob,” Sassy says, a sneer in her voice. “You know, the girl’s been through so much. You could just leave the paperwork and be done with it.”

  “It’s just business,” he repeats in a sort of insulted pout, sniffling loud enough that I almost instinctively look around for a tissue.

  Instead, I nod at Chloe. “You good? You wanted this TV?”

  Her lower lip is between her teeth when she nods and finally releases it. “Yes, I do. Thank you, Mr. Horton.”

  She’ll learn soon enough that nobody under the age of seventy goes by a title around here. Instead, I nod at Bob and clap him on the shoulder. “I’ll walk you out.”

  I follow the man to the front and notice that in the time it takes me to walk back through the store, Bob’s nephew, Tyler, has pulled up and is idling their shitty company pickup beside my bike.

  “Hey, Ty.” I lift my chin at the kid. “How’s the starter? Any better?”

  Tyler nods. “Yeah,” he grumbles, avoiding eye contact. “Been running fine,” he adds, his voice weirdly close to a whisper.

  I watch as Bob climbs into the passenger seat, mumbles something to his nephew, and they take off.

  When I turn back to Latterature, four old ladies are watching me through the glass. I yank open the door, and I swim through the sea of colorful blouses. “See that?” I ask, gesturing toward the door. “Bob’s gone. You can all go on and pick on some other aging electronics salesman.”

  Bev and Sassy start talking between themselves, while Carol tugs my mom’s arm and points to the large television that Bob set up in the reading nook.

  It seems like my work here is done, but I feel Chloe’s eyes on me. I turn to her and watch as a pretty shade of pink brightens her cheeks.

  I don’t know if this woman was in on my mother summoning me over here, but even if she was, she’s only in town because she suffered a loss.

  “I’m sorry about your aunt,” I say sincerely, meaning every word. “She was a great lady. Made my favorite sandwich in all of Star Falls.”

  Chloe’s whole body seems to relax at the mention of her aunt. “Mine too,” she says. “Grilled cheese with chicken and bacon. She made it special every time she visited my mom and me.”

  I cover my belly with both hands and groan in spite of myself. “That’s the one. My favorite sandwich. Just don’t tell my brother I said that. He’s a cocky son of a bitch when it comes to food.”

  “Franco, maybe you should take Chloe to dinner tonight.” Ma has disentangled herself from Carol and has nosed her way between me and the new owner of Latterature. “She’s new to town and doesn’t know anyone. Take her to your brother’s restaurant. You do like Italian food, don’t you, dear?”

  “Oh no, that’s… I mean… Yes, I like Italian, but…” Chloe’s stammering, but her eyes are searching my face. An innocent, sweet smile brings light to those green eyes. “You don’t have to. I…I’m fine, really. I have so much to do here in the store.”

  I’m looking her over, the long, luscious locks of auburn hair and that sweet face that somehow doesn’t match the dowdy, nerdy clothes she’s wearing.

  I see just a hint of the curves buried beneath the blanket-like layers, and my fingers suddenly itch to peel them back one by one.

  And then I stop myself.

  Something about the woman has my body paying attention.

  My gut tightens at the way she’s biting her bottom lip again, and I wonder if she likes being bitten as much as she seems to like biting.

  But my mother’s voice is in my ears, loudly demanding that I take Chloe on a date, and I know right there I have to put a stop to the whole thing. If I let myself get set up by my mother once, my entire life will become an episode of Matchmaking with Lucia and Company.

  “Chloe, no offense, but this—” I motion toward Ma and her lady gang “—is my mother’s not-at-all subtle attempt to set her single son up with the new—and I assume single—woman in town.” I give Ma a sharp glare.

  “She is single,” Ma adds. “That was the first thing I asked, son. I’m not trying to wreck a happy home here.”

  I nod. “Hmm-mm,” I mutter. “Thought so.” I lean down and plant a kiss on my mother’s hair, and she swats me away before fluffing the curls that I flattened back into place. “Ma, I’ll talk to you later. Chloe, it was nice meeting you. Enjoy the television.” I point at Bev, Sassy, and Carol, all of whom are standing by just waiting, like they’ll break out into applause if I agree to take Chloe to dinner. “Ladies.” I nod. “I’d appreciate if the next time my ma gets an idea in her head related to my love life, you’ll remind her—” I grab the door handle and yank it open “—to butt out.”

  I hear a chorus of disappointed sighs as one by one the ladies say goodbye.

  “We only want what’s best for you, Franco.”

  “Your mother means well, Frankie.”

  “I told you this wasn’t going to work, Lucia. Your son isn’t the dating kind.”

  Isn’t the dating kind?

  That stops me in my tracks, but if I go back in, I’m only inviting the lot of them to start analyzing my love life. And I’ve had more than enough time on that topic for one day.

  I almost turn back to defend myself, but a frustrated grunt comes out instead, and I decide it’s better to leave all this before I start something I really don’t want to finish. I tug my sunglasses over my eyes, then climb onto my bike and toss a glare back toward the store since I know every one of them is still standing at the door, watching me pull away.

  And curiously enough, so is Chloe.

  2

  Chloe

  I watch the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen kick a thick leg over his bike and ride off into the sunset.

  I realize the entire crowd of women is chattering and arguing with one another, while I’m standing here gaping after Lucia’s son like a starving puppy.

  It’s been ages since I had a date, and I don’t think any of the guys I’ve been out with since I broke it off with David compare to the heavily tattooed, muscular man I just met. Not in the looks department—or in the attitude either.

  Franco Bianchi.

  My skin pebbles just thinking his name, and I nervously bite on my lower lip. There are words for guys like Franco: sexy, powerful, and totally out of my league.

  Much as I’m sure Lucia would have been thrilled if her son had taken me out, it would have been nothing more than a pity date. An awkward dinner to appease his mother, and nothing at all to do with me.

  I’m as forgettable as yesterday’s lunch to a guy like that, and much as Lucia might have good intentions, even thinking about it hurts a little.

  I wonder if my thoughts are showing all over my face because Lucia looks like she feels terrible.

  “Chloe, I feel like I have to apologize for my son.” She’s standing in front of me, clutching her necklace. Her face is tight, her lips pressed thin. “Franco is such a good boy. He’s not normally so rude and so…”

  “Do you blame him, Lucia?” The one called Sassy has a hand on her hip and one perfectly drawn-on eyebrow cocked almost to her hairline. “Franco’s a grown man. He doesn’t want his mother meddling in his love life.”

  “Whose side are you on, Sas?” Bev hisses.

  My aunt had a very special relationship with Bev, the lady who runs the local animal shelter.

  I am only just learning how many amazing relationships my aunt Ann had here in Star Falls. I can now understand why she spent so many years here, running this small bookstore and café, despite the fact that she was losing money hand over fist.

  “Why do you need this expensive TV, anyway?”

  The sudden silence in the store lets me know I drifted off into my own thoughts again. “I’m sorry.” I blink and look from Lucia to Bev, then from Sassy to Carol, before flushing so hard I can feel my cheeks go pink. “I missed the question?”

  The ladies all start talking over one another about the television and Franco, but I notice a customer standing near the front door, looking like the crew of women is blocking her way in. I tug open the glass door, and a gorgeous woman with long, glossy black hair and sunglasses over her eyes clomps into the store.

  “Ma. What the eff?” She tears the sunglasses away from her face and stares at each woman in turn.

  I have no idea which one is her mother, but once I see her eyes, I have a pretty good guess.

  She points a heavily tattooed hand at Lucia. “Where you been with the car all morning? You were supposed to drive me to work.”

  Lucia gasps and looks horrified. “I’m sorry, Gracie. I met the girls down here for an emergency.”

  “I had to wake up Vito for a ride. Dad drove out to Cleveland just after you left.”

  “Why on earth did he go to Cleveland without me?” Lucia starts fumbling for her phone, which is encased in a glittery pink protective sleeve. “That man shouldn’t be driving until he gets a pair of real glasses. I don’t know how he’s going to see the signs on the highway.”

  Gracie grabs the device from her mom and flips a little button. “See, Ma? Your phone was on silent. The entire family could have been calling for help, and you wouldn’t have known. Dad must’ve called five times before he left.”

  Lucia shakes her head and holds the phone in her hands like it’s an explosive device and Grace is the detonation expert who just neutralized the threat. “Oh, son of a gun. I was wondering why I wasn’t getting any calls after I texted your brother.”

  Grace lifts a brow and strikes a dramatic pose.

  I’m captivated by her larger-than-life attitude and colorful tattoos.

  She jams the sunglasses on top of her head and softens as she looks at each of her mother’s friends. “Bev, Sassy, Carol.” She kisses each woman on the cheek before turning back to her mother. “Mom, what the hell kind of emergency could you have at a bookstore?”

  I squirm a little bit, feeling like I’m drowning in my striped sweater. Next to Grace, who’s wearing a shredded concert T-shirt with more holes than fabric, I feel every bit the bookish nerd that I am.

  I start to tiptoe backward, hoping to slip unnoticed into the kitchen.

  Sassy points a finger at me before I can get away. “That,” she says, narrowing her thickly mascaraed eyes at me. “That’s the emergency.”

  Grace looks me over, and it feels like I’m in fifth grade again. I nearly lean against the wall for support under the confident, bold woman’s gaze.

  Grace squints a little and cocks her head. “Who’s this?” she asks, not even addressing her question to me.

  Yeah, if I felt invisible before, I feel like a piece of furniture now. “I’m—” I wring my hands together, then awkwardly stick one out toward Grace.

  Lucia cuts me off before I can finish introducing myself. “Gracie. This is Ann’s niece. I’ve been talking about her all week, for goodness’ sake.” Lucia puts a hand on my arm, a thin stack of gold bangle bracelets clicking wildly with the movement. “This is Chloe Harkin.”

  Grace twists her lips to one side, and a deep dimple marks her cheek. Grace is the kind of girl everyone wanted to be in high school. Cool, pretty, and completely indifferent to what anyone else thinks.

  I can already see the family resemblance to her older brother. My heart thumps an excited beat in my chest as I picture Franco’s thick waves of hair and piercing eyes. His, though, were blue.

  She eyes me curiously, silent for a moment, and then slaps the shredded knee of her black jeans and curses. “I got it now.” Instead of shaking my awkwardly outstretched hand, Grace turns to her mom. “This is the girl you were trying to set Frankie up with?”

  “Look at her.” Lucia crows. “She’s a doll. Your brother could use a nice girl like Chloe. Before all the other dogs in this town come sniffing around wanting a shot at the new girl.”

  I surprise myself by snorting at that. No dogs have ever come sniffing around me. I’m sure Star Falls won’t be any different. Not if the women look like Grace, and the men… Well, if the men look like Franco, I may as well put on a habit and turn this bookstore into a convent. I’ve got as much chance with a guy like that as a nun does.

  Sassy puts an end to the conversation by swinging her oversized metallic silver purse over her shoulder. “Gals, I got to run. My boss is a real asshole if I’m late, and I’ve got to stop home for my uniform.”

  “Asshole boss.” Lucia scowls, but it’s clear she’s not insulted. “You tell that son of mine to call his mother. Benito hasn’t called in days.”

  “He’s sleeping with that new bartender he hired,” Grace says with a smirk.

  Sassy grumbles. “This week, he is. And last week, it was another one, and next week, it’ll be someone else.”

  Lucia shakes her head, sighing as if the weight of the world rests on her tiny shoulders. “Is it too much to ask that my children settle down and be happy? What is it with all this sexual freedom? When I was young…”

  There’s a groan from one of the women.

  “And that’s my cue to go.” Sassy air-kisses her friends goodbye and waves at me before breezing out of the store.

  Lucia continues, undeterred. “And would it be so much to ask for grandchildren while I’m still healthy enough to enjoy them?” She looks at me, a sadness in her face. “Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, and I just want grandbabies I can push in their strollers. I don’t want them pushing me in mine.”

  “So, you’re Ann’s niece?” Grace asks, completely ignoring her mother’s pity party as she finally holds out her hand to me.

  I nod. “I’m Chloe Harkin. Nice to meet you.”

  Grace seems to size me up as she takes in my sweater and cargo boots. She releases my hand with a nod. “I work next door at The Body Shop. You’ll be seeing a lot of me, as long as you keep making that kick-ass coffee your aunt used to make. I’m literally addicted to her peanut butter crisps too. I’m Gracie, and that one belongs to me.” She lifts one of those perfect brows impossibly higher and jerks a thumb toward Lucia.

  Of course Gracie works at the town tattoo parlor. If she got any cooler, I might just collapse into a heap of dust on the floor.

  “Just so you know,” she says, gesturing toward her mother. “My ma’s going to try to set you up with her oldest son until you tell her in no uncertain terms to lay the fuck off the matchmaking. Either you tell her, or my brother will.”

  “I didn’t teach my daughter to cuss like a sailor,” Lucia says, sounding a little hurt. “And what’s so wrong with wanting to see my children happy?”

  “Ma, what do you even know about this girl?” Gracie demands. She waves a hand at me. “Look at her. She might not even be into guys, for all you know. You can’t just go around trying to hook up your kids with anything that lives and breathes and hasn’t yet slept with Benito.” She whips her head, and her long black locks go flying. “You haven’t, have you? My brother does get around pretty damn quick.”

  Lucia makes the sign of the cross over her chest and forehead. “The girl’s been here two weeks. Not even your brother moves that fast.”

  “Yes, he does,” they say, and by they, I mean all of them—Bev, Carol, and Gracie.

  Lucia purses her lips, reluctantly admitting they are right. “Fine. Maybe I should have asked whether Chloe is attracted to men and whether she’s already had relations with my youngest son before I tried to set her up with Franco. I’m just trying to help here.”

  “Help by not helping,” Grace says, then she points a finger at me. “You got any coffee? I’d kill for a shot of caffeine and a peanut butter crisp.”

  I nod, remembering that I do actually have a business to run, and this place is not just a social club for my aunt’s friends. “I’ll start a fresh pot,” I tell her. “Give me about five minutes.”

  Grace drops her sunglasses back over her eyes and clomps toward the door. “I’ll stop back,” she says over her shoulder. “I got to open next door.”

  I scurry back toward the kitchen, wishing for the millionth time since I set foot in Latterature that my aunt had a peekaboo window in the kitchen.

  Before I push past the kitchen door, I hear Lucia call my name. “Chloe, sweetheart. We’re leaving.”