A brand new bookstore and café opens in Mahone Bay!
Harper Morrison and Ellery Pelletier bring a delightful mixture of literature and caffeine to Mahone Bay with the opening of Books and Brews. The café serves excellent coffee, delicious treats, as well as soup and sandwiches. The bookstore is loaded with new titles by independent authors as well as traditional works.
The article linked to the bookstore’s own Facebook page, Twitter, and Instagram accounts. I scrolled down, heart pounding unsteadily in my chest.
There were a few photographs of the opening day. There were pictures of Harper standing with a blonde woman out in front of a purple clapboard storefront, the shop name proudly captured along with them.
I clicked on that picture, zooming in on her as much as my phone allowed me. She looked incredible. The girl I left behind had grown into a gorgeous, confident woman. She’d chopped her long chestnut locks into a bob that drew my eye to her jawline, then her lips.
That one little pixilated glimpse of her wasn’t enough for me, but all of the recent photos were of book table displays or treats from the café, artistically taken. If she had them, her private accounts were securely locked down.
All I had to go on was the name of her business. My fingers tapped against the glass screen of my phone.
Mahone Bay was only thirteen minutes away from Lunenburg. Now that I officially knew where to find her, the unremitting itch to go to her surfaced, stronger than it’d been in years, encouraged only further by Gramps’ last words.
Showing up wouldn’t fix things, but Gramps was right. It was time I told her how sorry I was. I wouldn’t burden her with the fact that I’d never gotten over her, or what I’d done to her, but she deserved an apology.
July 23rd, 2008
The guys and I were playing at the bandstand, in the heart of the old town. It wasn’t our first gig, but it was our biggest one yet, the crowds larger than anywhere we’d played before. It was incredible.
This new opportunity was brought to us by my grandfather, who was friends with the organizers. Gramps was somewhat of a legend in these parts, and he had a lot of clout. For decades, he was a headliner at the folk festival, until he retired from playing in his early seventies, when Nan started getting sick.
Although retired, Gramps was kind of our music sensei; he encouraged us and found us new gigs to play at. Because of him, we were playing at the bandstand for the summer concert series, an honor usually reserved for more established musicians. At the last second, one of the scheduled bands backed out due to an issue with one of the musicians at the border. Their loss was our gain.
The lawn was full of people congregating in front of us. They were enjoying our sound—listening, bobbing their heads in time to the beat. The energy streaming out from my fingertips as I strummed the guitar seemed to rile up the audience. The rush I felt was unparalleled. We sounded incredible, echoing off the hundred-year-old grandstand.
I crooned into the microphone, my eyes working the crowd when my gaze was drawn to a girl around my age wearing a flowered sundress and a jean jacket. She stood out more than anybody out there. Maybe it was because she carried a hardcover novel with her, open on her lap as she sat beneath the tree on top of the hill. Maybe it was the dark pull of her eyes, or the flash of her thigh’s creamy skin as she got comfortable, but I couldn’t pull my focus away from her.
She had long, chestnut brown hair. The beachy waves fell freely down her back, and braid was interwoven along her crown.
Her eyes were dark pools, pulling me into their infinite depth like a ship to a siren’s call the moment our gazes locked.
I knew pretty much everyone in Lunenburg, and I’d never seen her before. She was probably a tourist, traveling with her parents for the summer. The urge to find out, to know her, consumed me.
My fingers strummed expertly along the strings as I finished the chorus, my eyes still on this mystery girl, praying like hell I’d get a chance to talk to her after.
A few songs later, the final bars faded and Evan, Dare, and I took a bow. “Thanks Lunenburg! We’re The Forgotten Flounders. It was a pleasure playing for you tonight!” Evan signed off with the peace sign, of all things. Normally, I’d razz the shit out of him—but I itched to break away and find her.
To my immense disappointment, she’d vanished.
The next day while driving home from Dare’s, I glanced across the street at the right time, catching the mystery girl from last night just before she disappeared into the bookstore. I parked my Jeep, my mind already made up on going to talk to her.
She stood in front of a table near the entrance, reading the back of a novel. She was so enthralled with it. She didn’t notice my approach. It gave me a few moments to take her in, and pinpoint what it was about her that had struck my interest and held me fast.
She was dressed casually in blue denim shorts and a black, white, and burgundy plaid long sleeve button up over a white crop top; her smooth, toned stomach on display for my greedy eyes. Her brown hair hung over her shoulder in a thick braid, and she chewed on her bottom lip as her eyes traced the words.
A closer survey revealed pierced ears and a piercing in her belly button. She wore a thin gold hoop in her left helix, which caught the light streaming in from the bookstore windows. I grinned, wondering if her delicate piercings were an act of rebellion or a matter of taste.
Dark brown eyes; the irises rimmed with a deep purplish-blue, finally lifted, locking with mine. She didn’t seem surprised at all by my intrusion, or my perusal. “Can I help you?” she asked, arching a brow.
“You’re that girl from last night,” I grinned wider, pleased with her spark. She seemed so innocent and soft, but she had bite—and deliverance.
“Ah. The musician with the staring problem,” she retorted, her lips twitching with amusement.
“Can you blame me? You’re gorgeous.” I arched a brow, giving a pointed look.
She blushed prettily, and it was then I noticed the light dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose. She shook her head, setting the book down and moving on.
If it weren’t for the chemistry zapping between the two of us, and the way she kept peering at me over her shoulder, I would have taken that brush off and quit while I was ahead.
But her interest in me was tangible. So was her hesitance, but I didn’t blame her for being wary. I trailed along beside her, not even bothering to pretend I was there for a book. “Are you a tourist?”
“I live here,” she responded, looking at me directly. Her answer delighted me.
“How come I’ve never seen you before?”
“We just moved here two weeks ago.”
“Welcome to Lunenburg,” I grinned, holding my hand out to hers to shake it. “I’m Calum Jacobs.”
She hesitated for a moment before reaching out with her slender hand, shaking mine with a surprisingly steady grip. The air pulsed between us, and every inch of her skin upon mine was on fire—all from a simple handshake. That had never happened to me before.
“Harper Morrison.” Her hand dropped, and I lifted mine to run through my dark hair, secretly thrilled with the way her eyes traced my movements and held on my bicep. I flexed on purpose for her, and she flushed deeper, finally looking at me directly. I dropped my hand, letting it rest on the table.
“Well, Harper. Here’s the thing about music and me—when I’m playing it, usually nothing comes between the two of us. But yesterday, I saw you. I don’t know what that means yet, but I feel like figuring it out—if you’re into it, of course.”
She blinked, her lips pulling into a smile that blinded me. “Are you asking me out?”
“Yep,” I replied, resisting the urge to step closer to her, my lips tugging into a wolfish smile.
“When?”
“How about now?” I cocked a brow, my lips tugging into a crooked smile. “After you pick a book, I mean.”
“I don’t think so.” The corner of her lip lifted, revealing a pretty
dimple on her right cheek. She moved to the next table, her eyes flitting to mine for my reaction.
“Why not?”
“I have a lot of books to pick out.” She shrugged daintily, picking up another novel, eyes scanning the back of the cover.
“I can wait. I’ll even carry them for you.”
After a moment, those dark pools lifted to assess me. “Maybe I already have plans after this.”
“Do you?” I moved closer, unable to stop the tug I felt to be near her, not that I would have if I could. “
“Hmm?”
“Do you already have plans?” I stood directly in front of her now, and she wasn’t running. She was peering at me with interest. “Because if you do, I understand. But if you don’t…spend the day with me.”
“The entire day?” she parroted, a delicate brow quirking like she couldn’t quite figure out if I was for real.
“Why not?” I issued my challenge with a head tilt. “Come on. I’ll show you around town. If you can’t stand my company, you can bail at any time.” I was confident that she’d enjoy my companionship.
She bit down on her bottom lip, the subtle, distracting action stirring arousal within me. I waited, giving her a moment to think it over—standing still as she regarded me thoughtfully.
“All right Calum Jacobs, I guess I’ll spend the day with you.”
Harper
My heels clicked as I walked down Pleasant Street, feeling strikingly optimistic. The sun was shining, although the air carried the frigid winter winds off the water as it blew against my face. I didn’t mind, though. Soon, spring would arrive in Mahone Bay, and with it—tourists and festivals.
It was one of the main reasons why I moved here after finishing up my degree at Acadia. This vibrant community had the exact kind of environment I thrived in.
Pushing open the door to the bookstore, I smiled and greeted my business partner, Ellery. She stood behind the counter of the café, passing a cardboard cup with our business logo on it to a customer. The sign behind her boosted the brews of the day—dark roast, medium roast, and a hazelnut press brew.
I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing the scent of books and coffee to wash over me like a warm embrace. Music played softly on the speakers, combining with the sound of the cash register and conversing patrons.
“Morning, Harper,” she called out, grabbing a large cardboard cup, filling it with the succulent aroma of fresh coffee. Ellery was always the first to arrive—which wasn’t all that surprising, considering she lived in the bachelor apartment above the store. Second to arrive was usually Holly, the barista.
“Good morning,” I replied, unwinding my scarf as I moved through the storefront. I met Ellery eight and a half years ago when we took business administration together and bonded over our mutual love of coffee and books. She was the first true friend I’d made in years, since I moved to Nova Scotia from Ontario the summer before twelfth grade.
After two short weeks in Lunenburg, I managed to attract the attention of Calum Jacobs. I had gone for a walk in my new hometown and been drawn to the park by the sound of live music. I stopped to listen to his band perform at the bandstand. I’d been so captivated by him, by the ambiance he radiated while he sang. It was like watching magic happen.
His fingers strummed the strings of his guitar like it was second nature. The other guys playing with him were every bit as talented—and even good looking in their own ways, but they didn’t hold my interest the way he had.
There was something about his smile, his eyes, and his voice. I’d stood, memorized by him, for the rest of the set. But when they took a bow, I came to my senses, and the fear set in.
All my life, I’d grown attached to people I’d ultimately end up having to say goodbye to. My father was in the Royal Canadian Air Force, and we moved from base to base, never staying anywhere for long. I was wary of forming new connections because I knew those connections would change with distance when we moved on to Dad’s next assignment.
I left the park immediately after, but I couldn’t walk away the next day when he approached me in the bookstore.
He was a magnetic force, pulling everything into his orbit. The explosion of butterflies in my stomach intrigued me, as did the heightened awareness I felt in his presence. His interest—and by mine—was tangible.
Over the next several weeks, Calum took me to all the spots he felt I should see. It was my first time living on the east coast, and out of all the places we’d ever lived, I felt a connection to this one—to him.
It took no time at all to realize being with him felt like being home, which was a feeling I was unaccustomed to having. One that I could allot myself, given that it was my final year of high school. After high school, I’d get to choose where I’d go next, and there was a power in that.
Our carefree summer romance spiraled into something more serious than either of us had intended. He was romantic, spontaneous, and a little wild. He pulled me out and made me wild; he encouraged me to try things I normally wouldn’t have dared, like sneaking out of the house when my parents were sleeping, just to be with him.
For once, I felt like I was living my own fairytale; the kind of romance I’d only ever read about—one filled with laughter, sweet kisses, and adventure.
He introduced me to two of his best friends, Dare and Evan, and they took me under their wing, instantly drawing me into their group and accepting me as one of their own.
I joined them when they traveled to other local towns to play at other park music festivals. We saw a lot of Nova Scotia that summer. We traveled around in Dare’s mom’s minivan, with the band gear loaded in the back, playing at different pubs and events.
But I didn’t know how popular he was until the last week of summer, when they played at the end of summer bash back in Lunenburg.
It shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did, but the time I got to spend with Calum alone showed me a different side to him. By then…it was too late. He’d shown enough of his true self to me for me to fall completely head over heels.
Before me, he was the brooding musician, the ultimate bad boy player that every girl wanted to tame, but none had. When his bright, piercing cobalt eyes landed on me—I became his center, his muse, his focus, and he became my entire world.
But being the new girl and showing up on the arm of Calum Jacobs on the first day of school hadn’t exactly put me in good standing with the girls there. The girls in the group were sickeningly sweet to my face—at least in front of Cal and his friends.
They’d share the sordid stories of his playboy antics behind his back, but by that point, I had already learned that he was more than his reputation.
He gave more of himself to me than he’d ever given anyone else before. He was honest about his previous relationships and flings, and he never gave me a reason to think he was anything but committed to me. With every glance and every touch, I felt it.
We had something, and I had believed it was forever. His sudden departure from my life destroyed me. It was a goodbye I’d never planned on. To this day, I still didn’t understand how he could go from searching for apartments with me near the university to boarding a plane to a whole new life—one without me.
Irritated that I was thinking about him at all, I forced him from my mind as I strolled up to the counter with renewed purpose. There was no use in dredging up the past, not when today was already here, not when the air was crisp with potential.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the cardboard cup from her gratefully. I sipped at it, the flavor bursting on my tongue and reminding me just why Books and Brews was one of the top places in Mahone Bay for coffee. “Did my book order come yet?”
“Not yet,” Ellery’s nose wrinkled apologetically. She knew how excited I was for it. With this shipment, I’d ordered a box of my favourite indie author’s latest novel ahead of schedule for her release next week—a perk of one of my small side projects, Books, Brews, and Reviews.
“Oh, t
hat’s too bad,” I frowned. “Well, I’m sure it’ll arrive at some point today. It gives me some time to sort out the mess that is in our inventory.”
Ellery shivered. “I’m glad you handle that portion of this gig,” she admitted with a light laugh.
“Well, I’m glad you open—and close.” I retorted with an arched brow, pausing to take a sip.
“Yeah…still think I have it easier.” Ellery chuckled and leaned against the counter. She leveled a no-nonsense look at me, her pale green eyes wide and probing. “So, enough stalling. How did the date go?” she asked, her smile hopeful.
My smile slipped away, and I sighed. “Not very well. His favourite subject was himself, and he couldn’t stop talking long enough to ask me any personal questions.”
“Oh no.” Ellery said with a huff of exasperation. Last night’s blind date was set up by her and her serious boyfriend, Grant, with one of his teammates. “I really thought you guys would hit it off. Steve’s not usually like that. Maybe he was nervous?”
“Maybe,” I shrugged, eyes flitting away. Nervous or not—there hadn’t been anything there; not so much as flicker. From the moment Steve sauntered up to the restaurant table, I’d longed to leave, but I hadn’t wanted to be rude, so I stuck it out.
Despite his penchant for talking about himself and hockey and not much else, Steve was attractive. He was classically handsome, and well-dressed, too. But even the goodnight kiss was wrong. It fell flat; felt rehearsed. It just…painfully lacked in every way.
We didn’t jive, and I didn’t want to. The whole encounter had left a poor taste in my mouth and reminded me exactly why I didn’t spend what limited spare time I had dating.
Ellery sent a sympathetic glance my way and pushed away from the counter, reaching for a wax paper. “Don’t you miss sex?”
“Of course, I do,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder to make sure none of the early bird customers had heard. They were focused on their devices or newspapers in front of them and appeared unaware of the widely inappropriate conversation Ellery was trying to back me into. I couldn’t say the same for our barista, who was watching with wide-eyed interest. I lowered my voice. “I just don’t care for meaningless encounters with people I feel no attraction to.”
Off Beat (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 1) Page 3