Booklovers Romance Chapter 4: Back home
(Joan's PoV)
My little vacation ends way too soon for my liking and even though I never thought I'd be sad to leave Tashmore Lake behind , I actually am.
And when Mort promised me last night on the phone to come over today to say goodbye, I knew exactly why I would be missing the small town.
Damn it, I'm getting attached to him already and I don't know if that's a good thing or not. After all, the chance is big he just sees me as a friend.
My thoughts are disturbed by the doorbell. I can't resist my urge to check if my hair and make-up are looking alright, before opening the door to let Mort in.
He's sweet enough to carry my heavy suitcase to my car while I'm keeping an eye on Sam, to make sure he doesn't run away. After Mort has closed the trunk of my car, he looks up, staring straight into my eyes and I swallow as I feel the sparks between us.
Oh great, enter awkward moment.
I argue with myself for a moment before giving into my feelings and start walking towards him to give him a hug.
I blush lightly when he gives me a kiss on my cheek, remarkably close to my mouth. I whisper "Call me" before letting him go, get into the car and drive away.
After dumping my stuff at my apartment five blocks away from Central Park and taking care of my dog, I walk to my beloved bookstore. After all, I could use some girl talk.
"Hey Joan, how was Tashmore Lake?" my friend and colleague Mary asks me with a grin as soon as I enter the store. "And you know I want to hear all the details about that guy you've met."
Mort's PoV
I sigh softly as I watch Joan driving away in her old red car. I'm happy I've met her, she made me feel a little less lonely, for a change.
I bet that's not all she made you feel, my conscience whispers. So are you going to lie to yourself or admit she's the first woman since Amy you've been even remotely attracted to for a very long time?
I look at my phone.
Should I call her?
She just left. She can't answer the phone while she's driving. Besides, I don't even know what to say to her.
Great, I suddenly feel like an awkward teenager. I thought I was past that phrase.
I look at my messy cabin, The place certainly looks like it could use a woman's touch. Not even Mrs. Garvey can keep it clean anymore. Why do I keep paying her?
Perhaps I've been alone for far too long.