Bonded

3

For the next two days, I couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb Thorn. His voice, his piercing gray eyes, the way he moved like he had the entire world in the palm of his hand—it was maddening. I replayed our brief conversations over and over in my head, analyzing every word, every glance.

“You’re still doing that thing where you stare into space,” Mia said, waving a hand in front of my face.

I blinked, realizing I’d been zoning out again while we stacked muffins in the display case at work. “Sorry,” I muttered, grabbing another tray to distract myself.

Mia narrowed her eyes at me, her lips curling into a smirk. “You’re totally thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“Who?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Oh, don’t even try to play dumb,” she said, leaning against the counter. “The tall, dark, and gorgeous guy from the bookstore. What was his name? Caleb?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I wasn’t thinking about him,” I lied.

Mia snorted. “Sure you weren’t. I’ve known you for a year, Ivy. You don’t blush like that unless there’s a guy involved. So, spill. Did he come back to the store?”

I hesitated, debating whether to tell her about his second visit. It felt…private, almost too surreal to share. But Mia wasn’t the type to give up.

“He came back,” I admitted, keeping my voice low.

Her eyes widened. “And?”

“And nothing,” I said quickly. “He just bought another book and left.”

Mia didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh. And how many times did he stare into your soul while pretending to care about books?”

I sighed, unable to hide the small smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe once or twice.”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“Stop,” I groaned, shoving her playfully.

But Mia’s teasing stuck with me long after my shift ended. As I walked home, the rain threatening to return, I wondered if Caleb Thorn really did see me as more than just a girl behind the counter.

When I reached the bookstore later that evening, I found it empty except for Mrs. Baker, who was sorting through a stack of new arrivals.

“Evening, Ivy,” she greeted with a warm smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Baker,” I said, setting my bag down behind the counter.

“Your friend came by earlier,” she said casually, flipping through a book.

I froze. “Friend?”

“Mr. Thorn,” she clarified, her eyes twinkling. “He didn’t stay long, just asked if you’d be in tonight.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What did you tell him?”

“That you’re always reliable,” she said with a wink. “Why? Hoping he’ll come back?”

“No!” I said quickly, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrayed me.

Mrs. Baker chuckled and went back to her books, leaving me to wrestle with my thoughts. Why would Caleb ask about me? What did he want?

I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up to see him walking in, as if summoned by my thoughts. He was dressed more casually this time in a black cashmere sweater and dark jeans, but he still looked like he belonged in a magazine.

“Good evening, Ivy,” he said, his voice as smooth as ever.

“Hi,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He approached the counter, his gaze steady and unnervingly intense. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No, not at all,” I said quickly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he said, leaning slightly against the counter.

“What is it?”

“Have dinner with me.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. “Dinner?” I repeated, my heart pounding.

“Yes,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’d like to get to know you better, Ivy.”

I stared at him, trying to make sense of the situation. This kind of thing didn’t happen to me. Guys like Caleb Thorn didn’t ask me to dinner.

“I—uh—I don’t know,” I stammered, my mind racing.

“Say yes,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto mine. “You can’t say you’re not curious.”

He wasn’t wrong. I was curious—so curious it scared me. But I also didn’t trust myself around him. He had a way of making me feel completely unmoored, like I was standing on the edge of a cliff with no idea what waited below.

“I don’t even know you,” I said finally, hoping he’d take the hint and back off.

His smile widened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of something darker in his eyes. “That’s the point, Ivy. Let me change that.”

I hesitated, my heart and mind waging a silent war. Part of me wanted to say no, to walk away and keep my safe, quiet life intact. But another part of me—the part that was tired of always playing it safe—wanted to say yes.

“Okay,” I said before I could talk myself out of it.

His smile turned into a grin, and I felt a rush of something I couldn’t quite name. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“How do you even know where I live?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

He chuckled, a low, velvety sound. “I have my ways.”

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving me standing there with my heart racing and my life on the verge of changing forever.