Page Against the Machine: A Mission City Gay Romance Novella

Page Against the Machine

A Mission City gay romance novella

Gabbi Grey

Copyright © 2022 Gabbi Grey.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

References to real people, events, organizations, establishments, or locations are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover art by Cate Ashwood Designs

ISBN: 978-1-7781514-6-0

Dickens

My tranquility is shattered when a motorcycle repair shop moves in next to my bookstore. All I want is peace and quiet. What I get is gunning engines and eighties rock music. One of us has got to go, and since I was here first, it’s the hot mechanic.

Spike

I chose Mission City to set up shop because of the weekend-enthusiast riders. I’ve dreamed of owning my own shop for years, and no one is going to run me out of town. Least of all the adorable geek Bookstore Dude.

This 25k gay romance novella is a true instalove, enemies to lovers, opposites attract story with a cuddly cat named Aristotle. The story first appeared in the anthology Love Is All Volume 5.

Dedication

Wendy, Jeanine, and Renae

Contents

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Chapter Seven

8.Chapter Eight

9.Chapter Nine

10.Chapter Ten

11.Epilogue

12.Interested in knowing more about Gabbi?

Chapter One

Dickens

One caramel macchiato extra hot. Sunshine put the cup on the counter in front of me.

I’d been so absorbed in the ordering system, I hadn’t heard her come in. I scowled.

The bell above the door is working fine, boss. She tapped my forehead above my frown. You’re too focused on placing the next order. She glanced over at the screen. That’s not enough.

My scowl deepened. I don’t want to end up with extra inventory.

And the last time she released a book, we sold out in two hours and had customers complaining for days while we tried to secure more copies. She’s taken off since then. Hometown girl made good. She tucked a strand of her blue-black hair behind her ears and her pale-blue eyes shone. You should triple that order. I’m telling you—Raven’s new book is going to be a bestseller. Plus, you can do more online orders if you’ve got extra. She tapped her neat, polish-free finger on the counter. But we’re not going to have surplus stock.

I tried to argue with her logic, but, as always, her reasoning was sound. Have you asked her about doing a signing?

Boss, you know her as well as I do. And you’re the owner of the store.

Didn’t you say your sister went to school with her?

Sun rolled her eyes. Yes, Rainbow was in Raven’s class. Yes, she used to hang out at our place. But you’re the proprietor of this establishment. She waved her hand around. I’m just the employee.

My scowl returned with a vengeance. Bullshit.

She tisked.

Oh, please. There’s no one here.

One perfect eyebrow arched.

Damn, if she’d come in without me hearing her, then…

Relax. Her grin split her face. No one else is here, so take a breath. And fine, I’ll call Raven. I’m assuming you want her to do a reading as well? I’ll see if she’s available for an evening or weekend presentation. She teaches university during the day, and her books are young adult, so we want the kids to be able to attend.

You know a huge percentage of young-adult fiction readers are actually adults.

I was aware of that. Her eyes flashed.

Of course you were.

Sunshine had been an employee of the bookstore for over ten years. She started when my parents still owned the store and had fortunately stayed on after they retired and turned the store over to me. My folks were happily enjoying their time up in the Okanagan region of British Columbia while The Owl’s Nest bookstore they founded sat in Mission City, part of the tranquil Fraser Valley. We were within spitting distance of Vancouver, but we retained a small-town feeling.

I’m going to open the box we got yesterday and—

It’s already done.

Now she scowled.

I shrugged. I was bored.

Boss. No missing the exasperated tone. When your parents renovated the second floor and turned it into an apartment for you, I’m positive they didn’t intend for you to spend all your spare time in the store.

I’d concede that much. They hadn’t wanted me worrying about a mortgage. Their ingenuity meant I had a lovely home above the shop. It also meant I could come down whenever I had insomnia. The smell of books invariably soothed me, and I’d soon be ready to crawl back into bed. Well, I’m sure you can find—

The sound of a gunshot rang through the store.

My first instinct was to duck, but gunfire in Mission City was ridiculous. Ah, must be a car backfiring. So if—

Another one.

My gaze shot to Sunshine.

She raised an eyebrow as if to say, what’s your point?

This time, a motor revved.

My hackles rose.

Drink your coffee, boss. I have some news. She inclined her head. Remember when the McKinneys sold their store?

Sure. About six months ago. Where was she going with this?

And you didn’t know who bought it?

I presume you’re going to enlighten me? I loved her, but occasionally she took her sweet time getting to the point.

A motorcycle repair shop.

I gaped. How did they move in and I didn’t notice?

She rolled her eyes. You just spent the last week at a book-buying convention in New Orleans, and you stopped in New York and Chicago. Did you think the world held its breath while you were gone?

Well, frankly, yes. This is Mission City. Nothing ever happens in Mission—

Another loud rev.

Goddamnit.

She snickered. Whatever. She waved her hand. They had a crew come in last week. Pretty much worked twenty-four/seven. Got the entire thing done up. Looks pretty spiffy. Of course, in a week or two, there’ll be a layer of grease and—

They can’t stay. I pushed my glasses up my nose. Absolutely not. We can’t have a repair shop next to the bookstore. Oh, why did the McKinneys have to sell?

Because they literally won the lottery? She snorted. And moved back to Prince Edward Island to be with their kids. Why run a hardware store when you can sit and watch the ocean waves?

I… I had no idea. Not about any of it. I worked. I worked hard. I couldn’t fathom sitting around all day looking at water. No, my parents gave me a job when I was thirteen, and I’d worked almost every day since—when I wasn’t in school. So, in other words, half my life.

This tangent was getting me nowhere.

Another rumble.

I flailed my arms at the huge overstuffed chairs. We want readers to come in, put their feet up, and stay awhile. How’re they going to be able to think, let alone concentrate on a book, with all that racket? I pounded my fist on the counter,