by Christi Snow
Table of Contents
Found at the Bookstore
Other Books by Christi Snow
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Epilogue
Author’s Note:
THANK YOU...
Chapter One from Found at the Library... | Chapter One
About the Author:
Found at the Bookstore Story Description
After suffering a traumatic brain injury the final football game his senior year in high school, Ryder Garrett’s life was never normal again. Most days he’s happy when he can remember the way home. There’s no room in his life for romance or love, which means he’s destined to die a virgin.
Stig Minton doesn’t remember what virginity felt like. Twelve years older than Ryder, he’s been around the block too many times to count and has the scars to prove it...both physically and mentally.
But as these two men come together to help with a wedding, they forge a friendship, a friendship they both desperately need. As their relationship evolves, feelings go deeper. But is it stupid to risk this new—and, yes necessary—bond in pursuit of something that’s doomed to fail?
They both think they’re too broken to make this work. But what if they’re wrong?
Two broken souls may just be able to find reparation in one another...
Book #2 in the Found Series.
Series order (although can be read as stand-alones)
Found at the Library
Found at the Bookstore
Found at the Bookstore
(Book #2 in the Found series)
by Christi Snow
Published by Christi Snow
Edited by Mia Downing
Cover Design by AM Design Studios
Cover Model and Photographer: Nathan Hainline
Copyright © 2017 Christina Snow
ISBN (print): 1548513180
ISBN-13 (print): 978-1548513184
ASIN (kindle): B073HWNSWC
All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, no part of this book may be copied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means, without the express permission of the author.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
www.christi-snow.com
This book is a work of fiction. While sometimes actual locations are used in the writing of this book, they are used in a fictional circumstance and are by no means meant to reflect events happening in those places. Names, characters, events are all a product of the author’s imagination and are by no means meant to reflect actual people living or dead, or any actual events. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
Other Books by Christi Snow
Through the Veil Series
(Paranormal Dystopian Romance)
Through the Veil (Book #1)
Allied in Flight (Book #2)
Rejecting Destiny (Book #3)
When the Mission Ends Series
(Contemporary Romantic Suspense)
Operation: Endgame (Book #1)
Operation: Endeavor (Book #2)
Before the Mission Begins (Novella #2.5)
Operation: Endurance (Book #3)
When Love Intrudes (Book #4)
When Love Comes Back (Book #5...coming soon)
Men of Snowcroft Series
(Contemporary m/m Romantic Suspense)
Snowcroft Lost (Book #1)
Snowcroft Safehouse (Book #2)
Intertwined Hearts (Book #3...mmf...coming soon)
Snowcroft Restoration (Book #4...coming soon)
Foxtrot Team Novels
(Contemporary Romantic Suspense)
The Shadow of Mudflap
The Martin Ranch Series
(Contemporary Romantic Suspense)
Right By Your Side (Book #1)
Male Model Chronicles
(Contemporary Romance)
Justin (Book #1)
Lance (Book #2)
Joshua (Book #3)
Found Series
(Contemporary m/m romance)
Found at the Library (Book #1)
Found at the Bookstore (Book #2)
Standalone
(Contemporary m/m romance)
Believe in the Wish
“Once you choose hope, anything is possible.”
-Christopher Reeve
Chapter One
Mid-November
Ryder
Ryder Garrett watched as Mac, his brother’s boyfriend, got down on one knee in front of the bookstore crowd and proposed to his brother, Tommy. Gasps sounded out from the crowd. Happiness...tinged with something a little sadder...tightened his throat. Mac was awesome for his brother. In the past year, he’d watched the two of them flourish in their love.
Ryder glared down at his wheelchair. This was not flourishing. The strength in his left side came and went, but lately, it seemed to be more absent than not. He was twenty-six years old and looking at another fifty to seventy years like this—miserable, trapped, alone...
He should be thrilled for Tommy’s happiness. Instead, he was making it all about himself. Shit, he was pathetic. No girl would ever want him as long as he was wallowing. Who had he become? Ryder Garrett did not wallow. He conquered. He charmed. He owned his own happiness despite life’s bumps and trials. He overcame. At least, that was what everyone thought who listened to him speak on his inspirational circuit.
That was the only thing that had kept him going the last eight years since a football accident and a traumatic brain injury sidelined his life. Inspiring others was his life work now. But his ever-cheerful outlook on life was waning, more and more, day by day.
The happy, congratulating group around his brother and fiancé was finally beginning to thin where Ryder could maneuver his wheelchair around the crowded bookstore. He headed toward the front where the two guys were all smiles.
Tommy met his gaze while he nodded and shook hands with the trio of men talking to him and Mac. Happiness literally glowed from him.
Ryder gave a small wave and signaled he would meet Tommy over at the coffee shop. Ryder detoured to that side of the store. But as he rolled up to the crowded, small cafe, he sighed. Never mind. He didn’t need coffee that bad.
With the crowds here to see his brother’s fiancé, Mac, a famous science fiction author, there was no way he’d get in there with his bulky wheelchair. His shoulders drooped.
But then a voice whispered across his ear, “Salted caramel latte, right?”
Stig. He hadn’t even seen Tommy and Mac’s friend here, but it made sense that he’d come tonight.
He turned to take in the friendly expression of one of Mac’s closest friends. Stig Minton was one of those guys. He had a personal
ity bigger than life echoed by his shockingly bleach-blond hair and quick wit. He was always ready with a sarcastic or suggestive remark, but Ryder got the feeling there was a lot more behind that easy smile and attitude than Stig let on.
“That would be great. Thanks.” Ryder twisted his hips to grab his wallet and shoved his planner into the pocket on the side of his wheelchair. “Here, let me give you some money.”
Stig waved him off. “No, don’t worry about it. I got it. Why don’t you go grab us that free table before someone else claims it?” He gestured toward the empty table in the corner.
Ryder hadn’t seen the empty table off to the side with all the people standing around. He began rolling that direction when a hipster dude skirted around his wheelchair and slid into one of the empty chairs.
Just perfect. Ryder scowled at the jerk for a moment, but the guy ignored the force of his glare. And he couldn’t blame him. Seriously, it wasn’t like he could be intimidating when he was in his chair like this.
Unfortunately, there was nowhere else for him to go. There was simply no room to maneuver in here with the crowd. People repeatedly jostled his chair as they tried to slide around the bulky piece with mumbled apologies. Ryder gritted his teeth in annoyance as another person bumped him. He shouldn’t have come, no matter how much he wanted to be here for Tommy and Mac’s moment.
Ryder sucked in a breath as telltale spots began to encroach on his vision, a precursor to what was sure to be one hell of a migraine. He closed his eyes and rubbed, hoping that stress had made him imagine the tiny black dots. But nope, when he opened his eyes, they were still there, taking up even more of his vision. He had to get out of here before it hit him full force with all the fun of puking and the disappearance of his ability to think straight—or as straight as his mind ever worked anymore.
He frantically looked around for a familiar face, but he didn’t see anyone, so he began pushing his way toward the doors. He knocked into people as he went, but he was past the point of caring.
The pain finally slammed into him, swift and brutal, and he still hadn’t made it to the door. This had snuck up on him too quickly. He wasn’t prepared. He needed help. He fumbled for his phone, but along with the fog of pain came the inability to make his fingers hold his phone.
He dropped it, and someone walking past kicked it. It disappeared beneath a bookcase. He closed his eyes and swallowed back the nausea.
Shit.
He had no idea how much time had passed when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Ryder, are you okay,” a deep voice rumbled with concern.
He looked up into a stranger’s face. He should know this man, but with his head in the migraine fog, nothing connected.
“Home. I need”—he swallowed against his thick, dry tongue—“to go home.”
“Okay.” The gorgeous man with bleach-blond hair and dark, concerned eyes cupped his shoulder.
Ryder couldn’t get his brain to process any of this. He could see the guy’s worry but didn’t understand the reason for it.
“Let me just find your brother,” the man said.
“No!” Ryder didn’t know why it mattered. The pain in his head thrummed with a beat so loud it was hard to think, to process. He couldn’t quite access that part of his brain anymore, but something about today was important. He wouldn’t ruin it for Tommy...not again. “Can text. Home. Please.”
His ability to vocalize slipped further and further away from his grasp.
***
Stig
A clutch of panic slid into Stig’s gut as he glanced around the crowded bookstore looking for some help, a familiar face who might know Ryder better than him. He didn’t know much about the details of Ryder’s condition. Ryder looked more sick and pale by the second. He rubbed at his head, the pain clouding his eyes.
Last year, he’d hung out with Ryder’s brother, Tommy, for a few days while he and Mac had been working out their issues. They’d discussed Ryder then. At the time, Ryder had been living in a mental health facility after trying to commit suicide. Thank fuck he’d been unsuccessful.
All Stig knew was that Ryder had issues after a traumatic brain injury that happened during a football game in high school. Most times he used a wheelchair, but every once in a while, Stig had seen him with crutches or sometimes even a cane, so he knew his physical limitations came and went. While Ryder had seemed okay earlier, he was going downhill quickly.
As Ryder’s words began to slur and he appeared more confused, Stig wasn’t sure what to do. “Let me go find Tommy.”
“No.”
That word came out loud and clear. While it was obvious Ryder didn’t want to bother Tommy with this, Stig was so far out of his element that he was on a whole other chemistry table. “Okay, I get it, but Ryder, I don’t know what to do. Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”
“No. Just home.” He swallowed audibly, and his skin turned an even greener shade. “Just need to go to bed. Migraine. Will sleep it off.” Ryder closed his eyes with a wince and then whispered, “Okay. It happens”—he swallowed again—“all the time.”
Stig took a deep breath. Okay, he could do this. He took a final glance around the crowded bookstore. He still didn’t see Tommy or Mac, so he began pushing Ryder’s wheelchair toward the doors. Ryder’s head now rested in the palm of his right hand. His left hand shook in his lap, a testament to how much pain he was in.
Stig knew Ryder rarely drove, so he headed straight toward his low-slung Aston Martin parked around behind the bookstore where he’d been less likely to end up with a door ding. The autumn air was chilly, although still mild for November in Denver, Colorado.
They came to a stop beside the car. Ryder lifted his head, frowned, and looked around, his expression confused.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what your limitations are,” Stig said. “Can you get into the car, or do you need me to lift you?”
“Nice.” Despite his pain, Ryder’s eyes widened with appreciation when he got a good look at the black sports car. “Can do it”—he took a deep breath—“but might fall.”
Stig opened the door and parked the chair where Ryder would have the shortest distance to shift his body and then locked the wheel brakes. Ryder shifted into the car, and Stig got a bit distracted as the bare, corded muscle on Ryder’s forearms flexed with the move. Ryder hadn’t taken the time to put on his jacket when the exited the bookstore.
Stig shook his head. He should have made him do it. He grabbed the jacket and book out of the chair and shoved them behind the seat. A whimper made him pause. He’d never paid much attention to Ryder before, but he was a beautiful man with his all-American dirty blond hair that fell artfully over his forehead. And those vibrant blue eyes...which dammit...were filled with pain. What was Stig doing?
Hello...Ryder was straight.
But in this moment, Stig could appreciate the play of masculine muscles on a really good-looking guy. A frisson of awareness flittered through his lower abdomen and caused him to pause with wonder at his reaction. Seriously?
He’d had sex just a couple of nights ago with a hot young twink. There was no reason his libido should be reacting this way now...and certainly not to Ryder. Stig shook his head as he shut the car door.
But after a few steps, he stumbled to a halt. Fuck. He’d forgotten about the wheelchair sitting outside the car. It wasn’t huge, but neither was the Aston Martin’s very limited trunk space. He stared at it for a moment before he thumbed open his phone contacts.
“Minton Galleries,” his PA, Lola Barnes, answered.
“Lola, I need you to call me a taxi. Have it come to Gregory’s Books and tell them that there will be an extra hundred in it for them if they get here in the next ten minutes.”
“What happened to the Aston? Hell, Stig, you didn’t wreck it, did you?”
“No.” He rolled his eyes as he glanced at Ryder through the window. His eyes were closed, and he appeared even paler than he had before. “I don�
��t have time to explain. Just hurry. Hell, tell them I’ll make it an extra thousand dollars if they get here in five minutes. I’m around the backside of the store.”
“Okay, I’m on it.”
Stig took a moment to pace after ending the call. He didn’t do well with not taking action. He still debated the wisdom of not calling Tommy to help, but he’d deal with that fallout later.
Fuck, he didn’t even know where Ryder lived. How did he plan to get him home? He opened the car door.
Ryder stirred when the cold November air hit his face. He squinted at Stig without a flicker of recognition in his glassy gaze.
A frisson of worry slid through Stig. This was dangerous. How often did Ryder get migraines like this? It would be way too easy for someone with fewer scruples to take advantage of him or hurt him.
“Do you remember your address?” Stig asked quietly.
Ryder frowned and then shook his head slightly. He groaned and gasped in pain.
Dammit. Okay, no more bothering Ryder with this. He would just have to figure it out. He’d seen Ryder reach for his wallet earlier, and he probably had some sort of ID. Stig reached over Ryder, who’d closed his eyes again.
Ryder stiffened slightly.
“I’m not doing anything nefarious,” Stig reassured him.
“Big word,” Ryder mumbled.
Stig smiled even though Ryder’s voice had sounded so weak. At least the guy was still here with him. He dipped his fingers into Ryder’s front jeans pocket. His fingers brushed over the wallet and then across something else that was most definitely not a wallet.
Ryder gasped.
Stig stilled and glanced up at Ryder’s face.
He watched Stig with wide, dark blue eyes.
“Sorry,” Stig mumbled and extracted the wallet, trying not to give into the impulse to bury his face in Ryder’s neck to inhale his tantalizing scent. It was something spicy mixed with evergreen and reminded him of his younger days, flying down insane double-black diamond ski runs, praying that wouldn’t be the day he became one with a tree. This scent triggered pure adrenaline and temptation. He wanted more.
“I’m gonna—”That was all Ryder got out as he lunged across Stig’s back and began retching.