The Bookworm Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  He took a deep breath and crossed the room, stopping to say hi to everyone he knew. Eventually he made it to his dad and Rose.

  “There you are,” Dad said, frowning slightly. “I wondered why—” Dad broke off when he saw what Toff was holding. Dad smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  Rose turned from her friends, her dark eyes lighting up when she saw Toff.

  “Here he is! My bonus kid.”

  Toff blinked, not sure what to say, the faint scent of Mom’s perfume still lingering.

  “I’ve been so lucky to have this boy—this young man—in my life for so long,” Rose said, beaming at him.

  Viv wandered over just in time. “I don’t know if I’d call it lucky.” She grinned, and her familiar teasing snapped Toff out of his daze. She waggled her eyebrows, looking at what he still held in his hands, sending him a silent message.

  “Oh right,” Toff said, heat creeping up his neck. He held up the bouquets from the florist. “These are for you.”

  He handed the bouquet of peach and cream roses to Rose. The florist had told him peach symbolized appreciation and gratitude, and cream was for charm and thoughtfulness. All of those fit Rose.

  “Oh!” Rose gasped, tears springing to her eyes. “You are so sweet, Toff.” Everyone murmured and cooed at him.

  “Don’t you dare say ‘a rose for a Rose,’” Viv grumbled.

  Toff grinned. “I don’t have to, since you just did.”

  Rose handed the flowers to a friend, who rushed off to find a vase. She pulled Toff into a full-body hug. “I love you, you little rascal.”

  He hugged her back. “I love you, too.” When they pulled apart, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the coins. He took a shaky breath. “I want you to have one of these.”

  Toff handed her one of the stamped carousel pennies. His dad leaned in, putting a hand to his heart when he saw what Toff held. Dad looked up, holding Toff’s gaze, his eyes filling with tears. Wow. He hadn’t seen Dad cry since…

  Rose didn’t move, her wide eyes flicking between Toff and his dad.

  “My…my…mom and I made these together at the pier. Before she died.” He swallowed hard. He wouldn’t cry, not tonight. “I thought if I hid these, she’d…she’d…get better.” He’d remembered that as he drove to the party, his little-boy wish on the pennies.

  “You’ve always been there for me, Rose. For so long, you’ve been like a mom. I didn’t realize…” He glanced at Dad, who was having a hard time keeping it together. “Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Obviously I’m not gonna give you a ring”—he smiled, trying to lighten the mood and help his dad get it together—“but I can give you this, and I’ll always have the other one.”

  Rose clutched the penny to her chest and burst into tears. Dad wrapped her in a hug, then reached for Toff, pulling him into the hug, too.

  “Way to go, Flipper. Way to go,” Viv said when Dad released him. Her eyes shone with tears, but she was smiling. “I suppose those are for Amy,” she said, gesturing to the small bouquet of yellow roses he still held.

  “Nope.” He presented them with a bow. “These, my most annoying sister, are for you.”

  Viv gasped, then launched herself at him. “I take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about you.”

  He laughed, stumbling backward, catching her in a hug.

  Dallas and Amy joined them, Dallas giving him a thumbs-up when Viv finally let him go.

  Amy smiled up at him, eyes shining.

  “Damn,” Toff grumbled, “did I make everybody cry?”

  “Not me,” Dallas said.

  “I heard everything,” Amy said. “That was amazing.”

  “Thanks.” He handed her the single unicorn rose in a plastic cylinder he’d been clutching the whole time. “This is for you. I’m sorry they only had one, but I thought you’d like it.”

  The petals were a swirl of colors, like a rainbow. When he’d asked the florist what the colors symbolized, he’d shrugged and said, “They make people happy.”

  That worked for Toff, since he wanted to give Amy an apology rose but didn’t want to choose other colors on the chart the florist showed him, like red for true love, yellow for friendship, or lavender for love at first sight.

  Amy took the rose, blasting him with a brilliant smile that made him feel…all sorts of feelings. Feelings he wasn’t ready to name but that fit like a puzzle piece into his conversation with Dad.

  …

  Rose’s friends from San Francisco herded everyone outside to the deck for a toast with champagne and sparkling cider.

  “Here’s to the sweetest Rose in the garden,” Dad called out from the far end of the deck, everyone gathered around him. All the women oohed and aahed, and some of the guys Hell-yeahed.

  “Wow,” Toff said. “He’s drunk.” He shrugged. “I guess he’s allowed, since it’s his party.”

  “He’s not,” Amy whispered, “he’s happy.”

  Surprised, he stared down at her.

  “He’s sweet, okay? Not drunk.”

  “I’ve been lucky in love,” Dad continued. “Not once but twice. That’s more than one man deserves.”

  Everyone oohed and aahed again. Dad scanned the crowd, his gaze landing on Toff.

  “I got that wrong,” he said, lifting his glass toward Toff. “I’ve been lucky in love three times. I couldn’t ask for a better son, even when he drives me crazy.”

  Relief and pride filled his dad’s eyes, and Toff felt his neck grow warm as the crowd turned toward him. He hadn’t felt this happy—this bone-deep happy—for a long, long time. He lifted his glass toward his dad and smiled.

  Overhead, a shooting star arced across the sky like somewhere in heaven, Mom was celebrating, too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Twitter Thread:

  @HeartRacerChallenge Winner Announced!

  @HeartRacerPublishing thanks everyone who entered their contest! Check out this thread to see what Lucinda Amorrato has to say about the winner:

  “Thank you to all who entered. You have my awe and admiration. I’m much too old to ‘do’ social media, and it has been an awakening to ‘lurk’ in the online book lover world. Your passion and creativity astound me. This was an incredibly difficult decision.

  “I chose @RedheadRecs as the winner because of her terrific reviews (buried on that Hunkalicious blog that you should all check out) her thoughtful recommendations to other readers, and her passion for the romance genre…

  “on full display in her interview with her reluctant reader. Many of you shipped #BonnieandClyde. I admit, I did as well. There’s nothing a romance author enjoys more than seeing a real romance play out. Congratulations, Amy! I can’t wait to meet you!”

  …

  In the early-morning quiet, Amy screamed so loudly, her entire family came running. Her bedroom door flew open, Brayden brandishing her missing giant knitting needle like a weapon, her parents hovering behind him.

  “Omigod! I won! I get to meet Lucinda! She picked me! Omigod!” She jumped out of bed, waving her phone around. “Hey!” She pointed at Brayden. “Stop stealing stuff from my room. That’s a crafting tool, not a weapon.”

  “That’s fantastic, honey! I’ll make something special to celebrate. Maybe an apple tart.” Dad rubbed his hands together. “French meringues? I haven’t made those in a while.”

  Mom wrapped her in a hug. “I knew you’d win. Especially after I watched you interview Toff.”

  Amy gaped at her mom. “You saw that? But you don’t do social media.”

  “You put the recording on the Hunkalicious blog, honey. I always check that for your book reviews.”

  Omigod. How had she forgotten her mom checked the blog? Amy blushed, thinking of her mom watching Toff being so extra.

  “Make those chocolate crispy thing
ies,” Brayden said to Dad, pointing the giant needle at his chest. “Meringues are gross.”

  Dad put a hand to his heart, pretending to stagger back. “You dare to insult the meringue?” He snatched the knitting needle from Brayden, crouched into a fencing position, then glanced at Amy. “I watched it, too. The Cupcake Kid and I need to talk.”

  Ohhhh no.

  Dad turned back to Brayden. “My name is Quinn Declan McIntyre. You insulted the French meringue. Prepare to die.”

  Brayden clutched his throat and theatrically collapsed to the ground. “No…meringues…” He gasped between gulps of air. “It’s…my…dying…wish.”

  Amy laughed while Mom applauded The Princess Bride parody. Her family was so weird. She couldn’t imagine them not weird.

  But as much as she loved them, she needed to call Viv. And Toff.

  …

  Toff was stoked for Amy. He’d panicked when she’d called instead of texted this morning, but then she’d screamed the good news in his ear. Now he was wandering Main Street, checking out shops to buy her a congratulations gift. He wasn’t sure what to get.

  He’d only seen Amy once since the engagement party. She’d picked up Brayden from the beach and they’d snuck off to steal a few kisses, but something felt off. She’d ended the kissing sooner than he’d wanted, leaving him wanting more. Not just more kissing but more time with her, too.

  He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he hoped dinner would fix it somehow. He pushed open the door of a cheesy gift shop.

  “Hello! Welcome to Seashells and More!”

  Toff glanced toward the chipper voice, grinning when he saw his surfer friend Claire.

  “What are you doing here?” She smirked as she approached him. “We don’t get many locals.”

  Toff shrugged, his neck heating with embarrassment. “I need a present.”

  Claire tilted her head, eyeing him closely. “For Amy?”

  “Yeah.” How’d she know?

  “Want some help?”

  “Maybe.” He reached out to examine a necklace hanging from a display rack.

  “Hell to the no,” Claire said, batting his hand away.

  More heat crept up his neck. He didn’t know how to do this. He’d never bought a girl a present before. Except the Swedish chick. He’d given her a California flag beach towel. Boring. He needed to do better for Amy.

  Claire tapped her sandal on the floor. “Do you honestly think Amy would wear a necklace with a giant palm tree on it? With those stupid flashing lights?”

  “No.” Toff sighed and scanned the shop. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” he grumbled.

  The shop door opened, and a group of sunburned tourists walked in. Claire squeezed his shoulder. “Just wander around. Don’t think too hard, and something will call to you.”

  Toff snorted. “Call to me?”

  “Just do it,” Claire commanded; then she left to go help the other customers.

  “Call to me,” he muttered to himself as he slowly wandered the back of the store, crammed with cheesy souvenirs. Come on, he told himself, you can do this.

  Shot glasses painted with the Hollywood sign. Inflatable Corona bottles. A whole bunch of tiki crap. Nope, nope, and nope. He kept wandering, even though he was pretty sure this was the wrong place to find her something special.

  Then he stopped. Picked up the small replica VW van with the miniature surfboard strapped to the roof. The van had old 1960s-style flowers painted on it. He eyed the shelf. There was another van, this one decorated with hearts instead of flowers.

  He wasn’t sure why this called to him or whatever, but it did. He put the flowered van back and grabbed the heart van, glad no one he knew was in here, except Claire.

  On his way to pay, a table of sparkly stuff caught his eye—a whole bunch of stuff that had been attacked with a glitter bomb, including a basket of hair things. He dug into it, like his hands knew what he was looking for before he did.

  “Perfect.” He clutched the hair pin decorated with sparkly starfish, then grabbed the one with unicorns. It went with the flower he’d gotten her the other night. Amy was a unicorn girl—he knew it deep in his bones.

  As he waited behind the noisy tourists to pay, he scoped out the impulse buys on the counter, spotting a rack of wooden surfboard bookmarks hanging by yarn loops.

  “Okay, fine,” he grumbled, snatching three bookmarks off the rack. One for his dad, one for Viv, and one for him, so he wouldn’t freak out Amy again. If he ever read another book.

  When it was his turn to pay, he stared down Claire. “I was never here.”

  “Who are you, weirdo? I’ve never seen you before in my life.” She shoved his items in a paper bag and handed it over, shooting him a wink.

  “Uh.” Toff hesitated. “Do you do gift wrapping?” He glanced behind him. The line was long, and Claire was the only employee. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” It couldn’t be that hard.

  “Hang on.” Claire ducked down, popping up a minute later with a fancy bag covered in sparkles. She stuffed a bunch of tissue paper in it. “You can handle this, right? It’s ninety percent done for you.”

  “Thanks, Claire.”

  “You’re welcome.” She flashed him a quick grin. “I like seeing you try, for once.”

  He opened his mouth to protest, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

  Back on the sidewalk, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had a gift for Amy. Dinner reservations were made. He had a clean shirt and knew where the iron was.

  Now he just had to wait a few more hours until he could pick her up. Hopefully by the end of the night, they’d be all the way okay again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Toff checked himself out in the bathroom mirror. Hair washed and styled—check. All he did was run his fingers through it, but girls always loved it. Shaved—check. No disgusting pimples—check. Teeth brushed—twice. His shirt was clean and mostly wrinkle-free. He was still getting the hang of the iron.

  He glanced at the fancy bottle of aftershave cologne on the sink. He’d had it since sophomore year—a gift from the Swedish girl—but hardly ever used it. Was it weird to wear a present from one girl when he took another girl out to dinner?

  Probably.

  He grabbed the bottle anyway, unscrewed the top, and sniffed. It smelled good. Manly. Alpha. He squinted, holding the bottle up to the mirror, wondering how much to use. Last time he’d worn it, his dad pretended to choke to death and told him “less is more.”

  He aimed the nozzle at his neck and squeezed, coughing as the spray filled his nose.

  Good enough.

  “Okay,” he told his reflection. “Time to do this.” He grabbed the gift bag and headed for the deck to tell his dad goodbye.

  “Look at you,” Dad said with a grin. He put a thumb in his book to hold his place.

  “Oh, here,” Toff said, handing Dad one of the surfboard bookmarks from the bag.

  Dad’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Thanks. Where are you off to?”

  “Taking Amy to dinner. She won the publisher contest.”

  “That’s great! Tell her congrats for me.” He tapped his mouth with the bookmark, lips quirking. “I hear there’s a book review video I need to watch.”

  Toff winced. Rose must’ve told him about it. “Uh…you don’t need to. Really.”

  Dad grinned. “You want some cash for tonight?”

  “Nah. I’ve got it covered. Don’t wait up,” Toff said.

  “Make sure you get Amy home by curfew. It’s a good way to win over her parents.”

  “They already love me.”

  Dad looked ready to make a smart-ass comeback, but instead he raised his glass in a salute. “What’s not to love?”

  …

  Amy was waiting in front of her house when Toff arrived. She
practically ran to his van, glancing over her shoulder like she was being chased.

  “What’s up?” Toff asked as she climbed into the passenger seat. “I was going to come inside to say hi to your parents.” He grinned. “And your monster brother.”

  Amy didn’t laugh. “Let’s go. Please.” She buckled her seat belt.

  His chest tightened. “What’s wrong, Ames?”

  She shrugged, glancing away. “Just family stuff. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Is it your brother?”

  “No.” Amy frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “Uh…he’s the family troublemaker, right?” Toff joked.

  Amy didn’t smile. “Can we go to dinner? Please.”

  Toff studied her, hoping she’d say more. She didn’t, so he put the van into gear and drove, hoping their dinner wasn’t doomed before it even started.

  Amy started a playlist.

  “What’s this?” asked Toff. It sounded like the sleepy music Natasha played in the herb shop.

  “It’s supposed to be calming music.”

  Their eyes met briefly; then Toff refocused on the road, troubled by the worry in her eyes and the way she kept looking away from him.

  “It’s, uh, money stuff,” she said quietly. “Dad says it’s time to take any job he can get, even at the hot dog shack, and Mom’s upset. She says that’s beneath him. And she feels guilty about not going back to work full-time once Brayden started school.”

  “Ouch.” Toff cringed, imagining the argument.

  “Today started out great, but then it all went down the tubes,” Amy said, sighing heavily. “My family was so excited and happy for me this morning. Then after I called you, Viv and I celebrated with a pancake breakfast—”

  “You should’ve invited me.”

  “—and I got a call from HeartRacer.” She glanced at him. “But right before you picked me up, my parents just…exploded. Arguing about money and jobs. Mom was crying, and Brayden freaked, hiding out in his room.”