‘It’s not just about the books for you though, is it?’
She turned to look at him and he could sense her surprise at his question. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve seen you with the group. You like books, but you also like people. And you’ve a talent for making them feel special, included. Listened to.’ He hesitated, but the dark made him bold. ‘You appear to have got through to Amy. Something I’ve failed to do.’
It wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t make out her frown. ‘You know, it’s not what people say that gives them away, but what they do. The fact that Amy has agreed to live with you, is willing to work with you … a lot of girls her age wouldn’t do that. They’d move in with their mates.’
‘Amy couldn’t.’ He didn’t want Lottie to have a false impression so he forced himself to keep talking. ‘We lost our mum last year. One of the last things she asked of us was that we looked after each other.’ He was really, really glad of the dark now. ‘So you see, Amy’s not here because she wants to be. She and Dad are here because they made a promise to Mum.’
‘Why are you here?’ she asked quietly.
So much he could say, but despite the cover of dark, he still wasn’t that person. The one who could talk openly, freely, about his personal life. ‘I thought a move to the sea would do us all good.’ It was truthful enough.
‘A more relaxed pace, huh?’ He caught her wry smile. ‘Until you agreed to let a rowdy book club into your shop.’
He found himself smiling. ‘Quite.’
She paused a moment and tugged at a wire. ‘Well, there’s your problem. One of the wires had become loose.’ She fiddled and twiddled. ‘That should fix it.’ With admirable efficiency, she screwed the cover back on the switch. ‘I’ll go and turn the electrics back on.’
A few seconds later, the bright lights of the shop blinked on again, the intimacy destroyed. He was left wondering how much of himself he’d given away.
‘So, that fusebox of yours.’ Lottie appeared in front of him and it took him a moment to adjust to seeing her again in the light. Those silver eyes, the bright smile. Gorgeous face. ‘I don’t want to look like I’m touting for business, but you should really get the wiring looked at and the fusebox changed. When was the last time it was checked? Have you got a certificate?’
He should know, but he didn’t. In his unseemly rush to escape the regrets of his old life and get on with starting a new one, the details of the purchase, the nuts and bolts of it all, hadn’t seemed important. ‘How badly will you think of me if I admit I haven’t a clue?’
‘Not badly at all if you employ me to look at it.’
He smiled, something he found easier the more time he spent in her company. ‘Consider yourself officially hired.’
‘Great. I’ll take a look at the diary and let you know when I’m free. I’m guessing after hours would be best for you. Less disruption.’
His pulse gave a little jump at the thought of being alone with her again, after the shop had closed. ‘That would be helpful, yes.’
They walked together to the front of the shop where she picked up the coat she’d abandoned on the counter. Then surprised him by squeezing his arm. ‘Don’t worry about Amy. At the moment she thinks you’re cross with her because of the ding-dong you had in front of me earlier.’
‘Cross? I was in the wrong.’
She smiled straight into his eyes. ‘And that’s why you guys will work it out.’
Boom, just like that, he felt the zing again. As the warmth from her smile fizzed through him, he wanted to kiss her so much, it hurt. Her mouth was tantalisingly close, his body primed and raring to go and his willpower on a knife edge.
But as he waged an internal war with himself, Lottie stepped away and opened the door. ‘Goodnight, Matt. I’ll be in touch about your fusebox.’
For a long while after she’d left he stood rooted to the spot, his emotions flip-flopping. It was a good thing he’d not given in, he tried to tell himself. The book club was important to the shop, he could see it growing, giving him the connection to the community he wanted. Amy had just joined it, giving her the chance to develop friends in the area. Doing anything to rock that now would be crazy. Plus he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so there was no way he should even be thinking about kissing her.
With a sigh he picked up his jacket, punched the code into the alarm, locked the door and headed home.
Chapter Eleven
Chewie pulled on the lead as Lottie walked up to the bookshop, that now familiar flutter starting in her belly.
‘Seems I’m not the only one happy to be coming back here.’ Chewie turned and gave her his signature look. The one that said, I know you’re talking to me but I haven’t a clue what you’re saying.
It had been two weeks since her last visit to Books by the Bay.
Two weeks since her brush in the dark with Matt.
Heat pooled between her thighs as she remembered the feel of his body when they’d bumped into each other; hard and lean. The fresh, woody scent of his aftershave. Not a brand she recognised, but expensive, she’d like to bet. Like his clothes, his watch. His car. They weren’t what she expected from a bookshop owner. Then again, Matt was turning out to be nothing like she’d expected.
It’s not just about the books for you though, is it? How did a guy she barely knew see her so well?
And how had she once thought him reserved to the point of cold, when he was clearly tied up in knots over his sister?
Plus there was nothing cold about the way he’d looked at her just before she’d left. His expression had been fierce, his eyes hot. She’d wanted to stay, see if whatever debate he’d been having with himself would end with him kissing her, but at the last minute she’d panicked. She was only just getting over Henry. Starting anything with a man as serious, as intense as Matt Steele didn’t seem like a sensible move.
She pushed the door to the shop open and the bell chimed, causing the man at the cash desk to look up and give her a small smile.
‘The electrician, I believe.’ He glanced down at Chewie. ‘And her famous sidekick. I’ve been warned not to whistle.’
The butterflies in her stomach calmed as she smiled at Matt’s father. Maybe Matt wouldn’t be here this evening after all. She ignored the kick of disappointment. At least she wouldn’t be distracted by the thought of him coming up to her. Lifting her hair and kissing the back of her neck…
‘Matt’s in his office.’ His dad nodded towards the back of the shop. ‘He’s expecting you.’
The butterflies in her belly set off again. ‘Thanks, Mr Steele.’
He waved his hand at her. ‘Jim.’
‘Right, thanks, Jim.’ She grinned. ‘I see he’s got you working today.’
‘Aye.’ He looked at his watch. ‘But I’m gone in two minutes.’
‘Ouch, that bad, huh?’
‘I didn’t sign up for working here. Told him that when he bought the place.’
Obviously Amy wasn’t the only unhappy member of Matt’s family. Though if she remembered her last conversation with Matt, Jim was coping not just with a move to a new town but with the loss of his wife, so it was hardly surprising. ‘I’m sure he’s grateful for your help.’ She bent her head closer and whispered, ‘Grateful enough to agree to whatever you decide to charge him.’
‘Can’t do that. He’s my son.’
She winked. ‘Doesn’t have to be money. He could pay you in beer, tickets to whatever you like to watch. Cake.’
‘I am partial to a bit of fruit cake. Or carrot cake. Or…’ He gave her a sheepish smile that looked incongruous on his otherwise rather dour face. ‘Any type of cake.’
She laughed. ‘Wow, you’re a cheap hire. I might employ you myself.’
He waggled his eyebrows. ‘Sparky’s mate. I like that. It’s got a ring to it.’
‘Stealing my staff now, I see.’
Lottie’s heart thumped as she glanced up to find Matt watching them. He appeared
… pensive, she thought, though his eyes were warm when they met hers. For a second she was tongue-tied, unable to think while he looked at her like that. It was only when she dragged her gaze away that her brain was able to engage. ‘Your dad said he’d work for cake. I’d be stupid not to hire him.’
Matt quirked a brow at his father. ‘Cake, not beer?’
‘Proper cake, mind. Like your mother used to make.’
Lottie watched as Matt’s often impassive face betrayed his sadness. ‘Her cakes were legendary.’
‘They were.’ There was a beat of silence, Lottie guessing that both men were lost in their memories. ‘She used to make that Oreo cake for you every time you said you were coming round,’ Jim added, focus on his son. ‘I’d be left eating it for the next week when you didn’t.’
Matt drew in a breath. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Not me you kept letting down.’
Anguish briefly settled over Matt’s face before he seemed to gather his control. ‘Can we not have this conversation here?’ When his eyes met hers, his guard was firmly up. ‘The shop’s clear. Let me know when you need to turn the electrics off.’
He turned and walked away, back ramrod stiff.
Jim let out a despondent-sounding sigh. ‘Sorry. You shouldn’t have had to witness that.’
‘It’s okay.’ Her heart ached for all three of them – Matt, his sister, his father. It was clear they’d lost the one person who’d held them together.
‘I shouldn’t have said what I did. Raking over old ground. It wasn’t helpful. His mother, my wife, we lost her last year.’ Jim swallowed, rubbing a hand over his face as she’d seen his son do. ‘If she can hear us, she’ll be looking daggers at me.’
Lottie smiled. ‘Or maybe she’ll be doing cartwheels because you were praising her cakes.’
As she’d hoped, he smiled. ‘Happen you’re right. She was proud of her baking.’
Lottie thought of Heidi, bursting to bake cakes for someone. ‘If you’re ever around on the last Thursday of the month, you should come to the book club. Not to discuss books,’ she added quickly when she saw his look of horror. ‘To sample the cake. One of the members loves to bake. We’re usually overflowing with cake. And gin.’
‘Gin?’ His eyebrows flew up. ‘I thought book clubs were serious affairs.’
‘We are serious. About cake and gin.’
He chuckled, his face turning from dour to attractive. It made her think of Matt, and how stunning he looked when he allowed himself to smile.
‘Right, well, I’m off.’ He walked to the door and turned the sign from Open to Closed. ‘I’ll leave you and your sidekick to it. Don’t let my son work you too hard.’
She waved him goodbye and looked down at Chewie who was sniffing at the bottom row of books. ‘Come on then, work to be done. At least I have to work. You have to focus on not peeing on the floor and not eating any more shoes.’
They set off towards the back of the shop but she jumped in surprise when Matt appeared from behind one of the bookshelves.
‘Crap, you scared me.’
He gave her a quizzical smile. ‘You weren’t expecting me?’
‘No, I mean yes.’ She blew out a breath. ‘I knew you were here, but I thought you were in the office.’
He nodded to the pile of books on the nearby table. ‘Just putting some books back.’ She sensed him hesitate. ‘I overheard your conversation.’
‘The one where I talk to my dog even though he hasn’t the foggiest idea what I’m saying?’
‘That, too. I was referring to the one with my dad.’ His eyes didn’t quite meet hers. ‘You seem to have a far better effect on my family than I do.’
‘That’s because I’m a stranger. They have to be polite to me.’
‘There are times I feel like a stranger, too.’ He shook his head, as if embarrassed he’d let that slip. ‘Anyway, I’ll just close up and then you’re good to start.’ He eyed Chewie. ‘Is he here to help?’
‘I can say with some certainty he won’t help. My hope is he won’t hinder.’ She bent to give the patient Chewie a hug. ‘He’s here because he hates being on his own.’
‘Fair enough. I’ve bought a few torches and a camping lamp, so we won’t be in total darkness when you need to turn the electricity off.’
I liked being in the dark with you. Nope, she wasn’t going there. She had a job to do.
Matt watched as Lottie placed her toolbox on the desk in the office and set about checking the connections to the fusebox. The furry mutt gave him a wary look before settling himself down on the floor.
‘So, Electric Blonde.’ He’d been intrigued by her company name ever since he’d received her email detailing when she could do the work. ‘That’s what it said on the estimate you sent through.’
Lottie glanced over at him. ‘Yep. That’s me. A salutary lesson not to register your new company name when you’ve been playing drinking games.’
Amused, he asked her, ‘You don’t like it?’
‘Let’s just say I wouldn’t have chosen it, had I been sober.’ She shrugged, eyes on what she was doing rather than him. ‘I guess I don’t hate it enough to bother changing it, though. It raises a few eyebrows, provides a few laughs. People remember me, though it would be nice if that happened because they were thinking, Let’s call Lottie, she does great work. And not What about calling that crazy blonde with the funny company name?’
He sensed something behind her words, a hint she wasn’t as confident as she came across. ‘You’re memorable for more than your name.’
Her eyes found his. ‘I’m wondering if that’s a compliment or an insult?’
‘A compliment.’
‘Oh.’ He was surprised to see a blush form on her cheeks. ‘Thanks.’ Her gaze locked on his and he found he couldn’t look away. Two weeks ago, he’d wanted to kiss her. He still wanted to. And it wasn’t just because the combination of blonde curls, grey eyes and a killer smile caused his body to react in ways he’d forgotten. He liked her. Funny and chatty, she was so easy to talk to. She’d even got his dad laughing and talking about Mum, something he struggled to do.
Because you’re nothing like Lottie. What had Patricia accused him of being in the last throes of their marriage? Too intense, too serious. Emotionally unavailable. It’s like being married to a fucking robot.
The memory was enough to shake him out of his daze. ‘I’m disturbing you.’
‘It’s fine. One of the advantages of being a female sparky is I can multi-task.’
He thought about the work he could be doing. Work isn’t everything, you fell into that trap last time. ‘Does multi-tasking include being able to drink? I can offer tea and coffee. Perhaps some left-over tonic. No gin, I’m afraid.’
She laughed, and the sound hummed gently through him. ‘You don’t want me drinking gin while I’m doing your electrics.’
‘Good point.’
‘Tea would be good, thanks.’
He glanced over to Chewie who cocked his head up. ‘And the shoe thief?’
‘If you’ve got a bowl, he’ll happily lap up some water, probably spilling most of it on your lovely wooden floor.’
‘It’s had worse things spilt on it.’
Another laugh. ‘Ouch, yes, so it has. I was hoping you’d scrubbed that incident from your memory bank.’
‘I do remember scrubbing,’ he commented dryly.
She rolled her eyes and he set off to the kitchen feeling lighter somehow, the sharp words from his dad pushed temporarily to the back of his mind.
A short while later the electrics were off and they were in darkness, the only light coming from the camping lamp. As he sat at his desk and watched Lottie work, he felt that intimacy again, just as he had before.
‘Last time we were stuck together in the dark we talked a lot about me, but not about you.’ She slotted some pliers between her teeth, fiddled … he suspected there was a technical term for it … then grabbed them again. ‘Your fault, obviousl
y, because if you ask me a question I’ll answer it. Then keep talking until you tell me to stop or you leave the room. Actually, even that doesn’t stop me, because I’m so used to talking to Chewie, it doesn’t faze me to be gabbling away when I’m the only person left.’
Mesmerised, he stared at her. They couldn’t be more different.
‘So anyway, to stop that happening I’m going to ask you a question.’ She glanced over at him. ‘Are you ready for it?’
The private side of him baulked at the idea of answering her. The man in him wanted to stay with her, in the dark, even if it meant talking about his least favourite subject: himself.
‘What did you used to do for a living in London?’
‘You don’t think I ran a bookshop?’
‘I think a man who came to work here in a suit is used to working in an office, not a bookshop.’
‘Ah, okay.’ Feeling faintly embarrassed, he shifted in the chair. In offering her a drink, he’d opened himself up to this conversation. He couldn’t now complain he didn’t want it. ‘You’re right. I worked in the city. I was a trader.’
She nodded. ‘That makes sense. The smart suit, the expensive watch.’ When he raised his eyebrows, she smirked. ‘I’m naturally nosy, so I take notice of such details.’
Figuring he didn’t need to reply, he waited while she focused on what she was doing for a while, content with the silence. Some people felt the need to fill silences, but the quiet never bothered him. Still, this silence felt friendly, not awkward.
‘Am I allowed one more question?’
He swallowed. ‘Okay.’
She laughed softly. ‘You really don’t like talking about yourself, do you?’
‘There are more interesting topics.’ He smiled. ‘Was that the question?’
‘Afraid not, so you can wipe the hopeful look off your face.’ She eased the old fusebox off the wall and set it on the floor, then took a new box out of the bag she’d brought with her. ‘Why did you swop being a trader in the city for a bookshop owner by the sea? It seems quite a dramatic change.’
The Beach Reads Book Club: The most heartwarming and feel good summer holiday read of 2021! (The Kathryn Freeman Romcom Collection, Book 5) Page 10