Audrey set off towards the café and Matt’s gaze followed her, eyes wide, like a pair of Bournville Giant Buttons. ‘Do you think she has tonic?’
Lottie stifled a laugh. ‘I think she’s happy with it neat.’
‘And you?’ His gaze slid back to hers. ‘Should I ask Amy to get some tonic in for next time? Some limes, perhaps.’
He had the dazed expression of a man who wasn’t quite sure what he’d let himself in for. ‘You’re already providing us with the premises. We’ll sort out our refreshments.’ She glanced back at Audrey, who was waving the bottle of gin around. ‘But those glasses would be good, before she starts swigging it out of the bottle.’
‘On it.’
Once again he gave her a smile. For such a hugely impressive-looking man, it was surprisingly hesitant, shy almost. Yet inside her boots, she felt her toes curl.
He’d finished the orders, sorted out the paperwork. There was no paint to watch dry. Automatically his gaze wandered to the café area. Whatever book they were discussing, the one with the excessive bonking, it was making the five of them laugh.
‘I can’t work out if you keep looking over at the café because you fancy one of them, and we all know who that would be, or if you wish you could join them.’
He jumped at the sound of his sister’s voice. The sister he hadn’t even noticed walk towards him because he’d been staring. Damn it. ‘Maybe I’m just keeping an eye on them. They are in my shop, drinking gin.’
Amy snorted. ‘Because they really look like they’re going to trash the place.’
Acutely aware Amy could see more than he wanted her to, Matt changed the subject. ‘Are you off now then?’
‘Yep.’ She gave him a sly smile. ‘So you can ogle the blonde as much as you like.’
Heat crept up his neck and Matt was incredibly grateful when his sister turned and headed for the door. He wasn’t ogling Lottie, he reassured himself as he took another quick look at the group. He was taking an interest in a club being held under his roof. Still, maybe he’d be better off working at the back of the shop from now on.
Five minutes later, happily unpacking a box of books, he started to whistle, something he hadn’t done since he’d been a boy. That’s when he heard a shriek.
‘Chewie, no! Come back!’
He had a second to realise the dog was heading his way. Another to panic as fifty pounds of curly fur and sharp teeth rounded the corner, knocking over the chair he’d used to set some of the books on, sending them flying. A final second to freeze as the dog came to a juddering stop in front of him, baring his teeth and letting out a growl that was far more fearsome than the teddy-bear picture Chewie presented.
‘Chewie, shh!’ Lottie appeared, her face flushed to a colour that almost matched her red hoodie. ‘That’s Matt, he’s a good guy.’
Matt swallowed, eyes still on Chewie. It was a bizarre moment to appreciate that finally, she’d got his name right. ‘I try.’
‘Shit.’
His gaze bounced to Lottie, who was now staring at the floor by Chewie’s feet, an appalled expression on her face. Ah. ‘Pee, to be more accurate.’ He winced as he watched the puddle on the floor expand, creeping towards him. ‘Quite a lot of it.’
Lottie sighed, bending to put her arms around Chewie’s neck. And now he could see the poor thing was shaking.
‘I’m so sorry. He’s not done that for ages.’
‘Emptied his bladder in a bookshop?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Run off like that, all scared. It was the whistling, I think.’ She rubbed a hand up and down Chewie’s back, soothing him. ‘I got him from a rescue centre. The staff thought his previous owner had kicked him around. He was found hiding under some bushes in the local park.’ She bent to kiss Chewie’s head. ‘The last time he reacted like this was when he met my cousin. Jack whistled then, too. I reckon Chewie’s git of a previous owner was a whistler.’
‘I’ll make sure never to whistle again.’
‘Oh no, it’s your shop. You should be able to do what you like. I’ll make sure this monster doesn’t come here again.’ Another sigh, this one from deep inside her. ‘Can you point me in the direction of your mop? I’d better get this cleaned up before it stains your lovely wooden floor.’
‘I’ll do it.’ Her wide-eyed expression told him he wasn’t the only one shocked by his statement. ‘You should get back to your … discussions.’
‘Are you sure?’ Her mouth curved in a sly smile. ‘You could take my place for a bit. Make Audrey’s day.’
‘Ah, yes.’ He’d worked in a high-pressure environment where confidence was critical, so why did he feel so uncool in front of this woman? ‘I’m not sure I’m sufficiently qualified.’
Lottie burst out laughing. ‘You mean you don’t want to talk about bonking in Rutshire?’
‘My taste in books is a little … different.’ Embarrassment meant his comment came out sharper than he’d intended, dismissive almost, and he cringed as he saw the laughter die in her eyes.
‘Right, well, if you really don’t mind doing the mopping…’
‘I don’t.’ His mind was stuck on how to explain himself. Ignore me, I’m a prick, seemed appropriate, but already she was walking away. And he was left staring at a puddle of dog piss.
He’d just wrung the mop out when he heard another shout from the group. This time it was from the hugely pregnant lady – Sally, he thought.
‘Oh my flaming God, either I’ve just peed myself like Chewie, or my waters have broken.’
Matt looked at the mop still in his hand. Could this really be happening?
The group started talking all at once and as he walked back towards the kitchen, he noticed they were hovering over Sally, who was holding her back.
‘I think we should time the contractions,’ Heidi said, looking concerned.
‘And call Paul.’ Lottie dug out her phone.
‘He’ll be on the road, coming back from Birmingham.’ Sally was breathing hard, her face pale. ‘Tell him to put his bloody foot down or his wife will be having a baby in a frigging bookstore.’
She groaned as another contraction hit and Matt felt his pulse go into overdrive. Dog piss he could handle. Babies were a whole different ball game.
‘We’re not hanging around here waiting for Paul to come. We need to get you to the hospital.’ Lottie dragged a hand over her face. ‘Damn, I’ve been drinking.’ She looked aghast as she cast her eyes around the rest of the group. ‘We all have.’
Matt shoved the mop into the cupboard and strode towards them. ‘I haven’t. I can drive Sally. Just let me get the car. I won’t be a minute.’
Not waiting for a reply, he sprinted down the road, immediately regretting his decision to come to work in a suit. As sweat beaded down his back, his mind conjured up images of Sally lying along the back seat, screaming that she needed to push. He wasn’t a man prone to panic, but the thought of having to stop at the side of the road and help Sally give birth … he shuddered.
A few minutes later he parked outside the back of the shop where they were all waiting for him.
‘I’ll come with you.’ Lottie, thank God, slipped into the back seat next to Sally. But that left a four-legged guy on the pavement, big eyes staring longingly at his owner.
‘Oh God, Chewie.’
Matt opened the passenger door and the dog jumped in. ‘Hang on.’ He scrambled around to turn the airbag off.
‘The hospital won’t let him come in.’ Lottie’s expression was a mix of apology and panic.
‘He’ll be fine with me.’ Feeling less confident than his statement suggested, he pasted on a smile. ‘I’ll be sure not to whistle.’
In the back seat, Sally let out a strangled cry. ‘Fuck, how do women have more than one? I’m never doing this again.’
Matt glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. ‘It was nine years before my mother had Amy.’
‘Nine years to forget the pain? OMG! I did not want to hear that.’
He winced, aware his bid to help her take her mind off things had been less than helpful. ‘Sorry.’
His gaze clashed with Lottie’s and she gave him a wry smile. ‘Hurricanes and rats I’d planned for. Emergency dashes to the hospital, I forgot about.’
A blessedly short while later, he pulled into the hospital and came to a stop outside the maternity entrance. ‘Wait here, I’ll get someone.’
Within minutes Sally was being pushed into the hospital in a wheelchair.
Standing beside him, Lottie blew out a long, shaky breath. ‘Thank God she’s in the hands of the professionals now.’
Slowly his heart rate began to return to normal. ‘Indeed.’
Lottie jammed her hands into her jacket pockets. ‘Right, well, I need to stay with her until Paul gets here, so, well, thanks for taking care of Chewie. And for the pee mopping and taxi service.’
He inclined his head. ‘At least we didn’t have to add back-of-the-car baby delivery.’
She gave him a small smile, biting into her bottom lip, and for the first time he noticed the freckles dusting across her nose and onto her cheeks. ‘I bet you’re considering changing your mind about us meeting at the bookshop now.’
Confused, he frowned. ‘Why?’
‘You thought we were a respectable book club,’ she answered, eyes on Sally, who was still talking to the maternity nurse. ‘Not, you know, a bunch of local crazies.’
She walked towards the automatic doors and as they opened for her, Matt called out, ‘Give me a call when you’re ready to collect Chewie. We’ll come and pick you up.’
She looked uncertain. ‘I can get a cab.’
‘I’m cheaper.’
Her mouth curved. ‘You make a persuasive argument. Thanks.’
‘Good luck.’
Her gaze darted to the car where Chewie was watching his mistress with worried eyes through the window. ‘You too.’
The moment Lottie went out of view, Chewie began pawing at the glass, trying to get out.
‘We’ll see her soon, big boy,’ he told the mutt as he slipped back into the driver’s seat. And was surprised to find he was already looking forward to it.
Chapter Six
Lottie’s thumb hovered over Matt’s number. It felt beyond weird asking him to pick her up from the hospital.
But Paul was with Sally now, and Lottie needed to fetch Chewie and go home. The easiest, quickest way to do that, was to take Matt up on his offer of a lift. And Lottie had always been practical.
Taking a breath, she called his number. He answered on the third ring.
‘Hi. Is Sally okay?’
‘I’m not sure she’d call it that, considering the fucking thing still hasn’t come out, but Paul’s there now, so I’m off the hook.’
There was a pause on the other end and Lottie wondered if the formal, expensively dressed man didn’t like swearing.
‘Are you ready to be picked up?’ he asked into the silence.
‘I’m ready to leave, but like I said before, I can easily grab a cab to yours.’
‘It’s no problem. I’m leaving now.’ Another pause. ‘Chewie will be glad to see you.’
Her heart sank at the quietly spoken understatement. ‘Oh shit, he’s not been a pain, has he?’
‘It depends how you define pain.’ In the background she could hear rustling, and imagined Matt was on the move, hurrying a confused Chewie into the car. A moment later she didn’t have to imagine, as she heard him talking to her dog. Come on, you hulking mutt. No, this way. And then an exasperated, Leave the bloody shoe. Finally his voice was directly back in her ear: ‘I’ll be with you in ten minutes.’
He ended the call before she had a chance to thank him. Now she had ten minutes to stew on all the things Chewie could have done, though possibly she only needed a fraction of that time. Bloody shoe. It seems the bookshop owner wasn’t averse to swearing after all. And her dog had developed a taste for expensive leather.
It should have made her feel guilty, but her first reaction was decidedly less honourable. There was something about the picture she’d conjured – harassed Matthew Steele, hair out of place, tie askew, trying to pull his designer shoe out of Chewie’s stubborn jaw – that made her grin. It also made him much more a Matt. He’d surprised her this evening, the calm way he’d taken control. She’d expected him to recoil, to distance himself, yet he’d done the exact opposite. He’d stepped up and taken charge with the confidence of a man used to dealing with pressure.
It seems every time she thought she had him nailed, he did something unexpected, forcing her to reconsider. He might have been snotty about joining their book discussion, but he certainly came up trumps in an emergency.
A black SUV came to a halt outside and Lottie immediately noticed Chewie sitting in the passenger seat. The moment he saw her, he started to bark and scramble around, trying to get out.
Matt leapt out and rounded the bonnet. ‘I believe he’s trying to tell you something.’
‘You think?’ She stepped forward to open the door but Matt beat her to it. The moment the gap was wide enough, Chewie squirmed his way through and raced up to her, almost knocking her over in his desperation to be hugged.
‘You daft boy, I’ve only been gone two hours.’ She raised her eyes to Matt’s. ‘Not enough time for him to get into too much trouble, I hope.’
She didn’t get a chance to see Matt’s expression because Chewie’s tongue swiped a wet trail across her face.
It took a while to get him back in the car, on the rear seat this time. He refused to sit until he saw her climb into the front. That’s when she noticed the muddy paw marks all over the black leather. ‘Oh boy, he didn’t wipe his feet.’ The guilt that had been absent earlier, barrelled through her like a runaway train.
‘My fault. I let him out in the garden in case he needed to … do his business. Couldn’t get him in again until he’d chased every bird and squirrel he could hear.’
She pictured the scene. ‘And covered himself in mud which he then trailed through the house and into your car.’ For the first time that evening, she took note of what they were driving in. ‘Your very new, very expensive … wow, is it a Jag? I didn’t think they did SUVs. Just low-slung elegant machines driven by CEOs or chauffeurs.’
He glanced sideways at her. ‘Should I wear a hat?’
Clearly he meant it as a joke, but once again the guilt gripped her. ‘You were meant to be catching up on your shop-owner stuff while we talked about Campbell-Black’s exploits with his favourite stud. Instead you get dumped with taxi duty and taking care of a muddy wild beast with a liking for chewing men’s shoes.’ When he didn’t look her way, her stomach dropped. ‘Crap, I was hoping I was wrong. Chewie ate one of your shoes, didn’t he?’
‘I was throwing them out anyway.’
She hiccupped out a laugh. ‘Of course you were.’
As he drove through the hospital car park towards the exit, she gave him a few surreptitious looks. He still had on his suit trousers as far as she could make out, though he’d abandoned the jacket and thrown on a black wool jumper. One that looked far too expensive to be worn while looking after a dog. God, he was handsome though. Darkly, strikingly handsome.
He came to a stop at the junction onto the main road. ‘Where am I going?’
‘I thought you were taking me home?’ Then she realised what he was actually saying. ‘Ah, but you don’t know where I live. Sorry, I’m on Kings Way.’
‘I meant more in terms of right or left?’ When his eyes met hers, he gave her a small smile. ‘So far I only know the name of the road where I live, the one where the shop is, and Shelby Street, because the Indian there does a great take-out curry.’
‘The Spice Garden.’ She smiled. ‘We can agree on curry, at least.’ And oops, she’d not meant to word it quite like that. ‘Take a right out of here,’ she added quickly. ‘Then second exit at the roundabout.’
There was silence as he pulled onto the road
. ‘At least?’ he asked after a while.
Lottie cursed her big mouth. It had a bad habit of opening before her brain had fully worked out what it was about to say. And whether it was a good idea or not. ‘I’m sure there are other things we can agree on, too.’ Though books definitely weren’t on the list. ‘You moved here, so you must like the sea.’
‘Or I wanted a change.’
She glanced at his profile but it gave nothing away. She’d never met a man so private with his thoughts. It was both frustrating and fascinating. Made her want to keep picking at him until he revealed something. ‘Is that why you came here? Not the lure of the sea so much as the lure of something different?’
He was quiet as he indicated to come off the roundabout and Lottie wondered if even her bland question had been too personal for him. ‘You need to keep on this road now until we hit the sea,’ she said into the silence. ‘Though obviously it would be good if you didn’t take that statement literally.’
His lips curved, and once again Lottie felt that squirmy sensation in her stomach. It was the first time since Henry had left that she’d felt a spark towards another guy. Totally weird, because the two men couldn’t be more different.
Matt focused his eyes on the road. Lottie’s question about why he’d moved wasn’t a big deal, she was just making conversation. He was the odd one, seemingly incapable of relaxing enough to answer. He just wasn’t comfortable talking about himself. He could do polite, he could do general. It was the personal, the stuff that tiptoed around the edges of the line between strangers and friends, he was so appalling at.
It meant he had many acquaintances and very few real friends.
Yet another part of his life that needed changing.
‘I used to live in London.’ It wasn’t an answer, but he hoped she’d see it as a start. An effort on his part to continue the conversation. She would be coming to his shop every month. Her dog had peed on his floor, they’d handled a small emergency together. He had a feeling Lottie could become a friend, if he’d only lower his guard enough to let her.
The Beach Reads Book Club: The most heartwarming and feel good summer holiday read of 2021! (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 5) Page 5