I glance at Elizabeth and she’s giving me the same grin.

“The store is beautiful,” I say.

Her smile grows.

“Thank you so much,” she says before looking at Gabe with the kind of “hung the moon” eyes that only a mother would have for her child. “We’re very lucky here.”

Gabe shuffles his feet, embarrassed but pleased.

Teddy is drinking out of a bowl that was clearly left out just for her.

“Would you like a tour?” Elizabeth asks. “Lauren and Lena are on their way. I thought we’d eat at our place tonight.”

“I’d love a tour,” I say. “And thank you so much for including me in your family dinner.”

Elizabeth waves a hand.

“We’re just happy to finally meet you,” she says. “I was starting to think Gabe would never get his act together.”

“They think so highly of me,” he says.

Elizabeth loops her arm through mine and pulls me through the store. Teddy and Gabe follow.

“Each bookshelf has a name,” she says, pointing to the large colorful signs. “When people ask for a book, we tell them to go to the Ursula K. Le Guin shelf—if it’s in the sci-fi section, for example—instead of just telling them a number.”

I’m listening, but mostly I’m just taking it all in.

The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, so tall that there are some Beauty and the Beast–style rolling ladders to help readers get to the out-of-reach volumes. Spread throughout the store are more shelves, but none of them go above my shoulders, which keeps the space from feeling too crowded. There are overstuffed leather chairs tucked away in every corner, and I imagine that if the store was open, each of them would be cradling the butt of an avid reader. There’s even a little table next to most of them, presumably for readers to place their mug of apple cider on.

The whole store feels welcoming and warm.

“Ta-da,” Elizabeth says, stopping in front of a shelf full of books and covered with colored labels.

THE COZY RECOMMENDS is written across the top.

And there are my books. Right in the middle. The place of honor. And beneath them is a handwritten sign: RECOMMENDED BY GABE.

Smart, funny, addictive nonfiction, the card reads in what I assume is Gabe’s writing—blocky and a bit uneven. You’ll be thinking about it long after you’ve put it down.

“We’re big fans here.” Elizabeth beams at me.

I think I say “thank you” as I touch the shelf—and Gabe’s words—quickly, briefly, like they’re precious artifacts.

I feel unbalanced. Emotionally wobbly.

I can’t look at Gabe.

“Would you like me to sign them?” I ask.