The kind of moment that Rinn wanted to preserve. The kind of moment she wanted the rest of the world to see was possible here at Wild Nights Bookstore and Emporium.

Rinn held out her hand, the one that wasn’t holding her phone. “Rinn Olivera.”

The woman took it, shaking hands with her. “Rashida Johnson.”

Rinn let go of the handshake. “Can I take the photo?”

“You don’t give up easy, do you?” said Rashida.

“I try not to,” said Rinn.

“Right. Go for it. As long as my little man here’s face isn’t in it.”

“Excellent.” Rinn smiled. “Just act natural.”

Rashida raised an eyebrow, like she was skeptical that she could do that. But Rinn backed away slowly, and Rashida slowly got absorbed again into the content of her book.

Rinn used the grid feature on her phone and lined up the shot perfectly. The backdrop of the children’s section just made the whole shot look like it could have been a portal to the realm of the fey.

“Thank you,” called out Rinn. She gave a wave to Rashida as she left.

Rashida laughed and said, “Anytime.”

Rinn had to show AJ these shots. After he’d helped her film video earlier, she thought he might appreciate these photos from all around the store.

Rinn gathered her curls into her hand, scrunching them slightly. She smoothed her fingers at the edges of her face, making sure there were no errant flyaways or baby hairs stuck to her forehead. She didn’t mind a few baby hairs, mind you. But not an entire face-framing halo of them, for goodness’ sake. Then she tugged on her skirt for good measure, making sure there weren’t any weird wrinkles in the front. She smoothed it down the sides. Rinn hated wrinkles in her skirts. She took a deep breath and stepped around a bookshelf.

Imogen was pacing in the self-help section. Imogen didn’t look up. She must not have heard Rinn approach.

Before Rinn could stop the collision, Imogen paced directly into her. If either of them had been going any faster it would have been a shoulder check, but luckily, Imogen hadn’t been going any faster and Rinn had at least stopped her forward momentum before they’d crashed into each other.

Rinn winced, not from the pain but because she was waiting for Imogen to yell or to vent her frustration.

But Imogen hardly registered that she’d been knocked into at all. “Oh, sorry, Rinn. I didn’t see you.”

Which was a normal response for most people, but an odd one for Imogen.

“Are you okay?” asked Rinn.

“Yeah.” But Imogen didn’t even make eye contact. She stared off into the distance—like she was trying to read the spines of the books two sections over. “Okay.”