Isabel shut the cash register drawer and frowned at him. “Why are you sticking like glue to me? I’m simply working at the store, ringing up purchases and dusting. It’s nothing to write home about.” “Ha, ha.” He shrugged. “I have a few hours to kill. The Author has gone off to the airport to pick up his in-laws-to-be. Now that’s nothing to write home about.” Hands on hips, she glanced at the ceiling and shook her head. Hadn’t she passed inspection yet? “Besides, you’re exceedingly more intriguing to watch.” “And you’re too charming for your own good.” He hooked his hands behind his head and crossed his legs, right ankle resting on the left knee. He wore his usual jeans and loafers, today with a royal blue crew neck sweater that intensified the color of his eyes. The usual lopsided grin spread across his face. Isabel felt a tickle, as if the floor had just dropped beneath her about a foot. Stunned, she knelt behind the counter and retrieved the feather duster.
