‘Indeed. Your parents would be proud of you, young lady. Keeping this place alive in the face of all sorts of adversity.’ Mr Johnson waved his package in the air as he tipped his tweed cap, the lines around his eyes deepening along with his smile. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing this place jazzed up, Sophie. I’ll see you again once I’m finished with this.’
‘Perhaps sooner? I’m planning a night market for this Friday. Will you come?’
‘Of course. I’ll pass the word around. Let’s make it a night to remember before our beautiful village is tarnished by a tacky resort.’
With a wave goodbye he left, leaving Sophie alone with the tightness in her chest. She slumped down onto the counter and buried her head in her arms.
Would her parents be proud of her? The survival of All Booked Up was on a knife’s edge, and the blame could be laid squarely at her own feet for trusting another to love and care for the place in the same way she did. To love and care for her.
Except he hadn’t. Phillip had pretended to have a vested interest. To want to pour money into the place, to expand its offerings, to revamp the look, to go online. Instead he’d emptied thousands of hard-earned pounds from their joint bank account. Stealing not only money, but any chance of doing All Booked Up the justice Sophie believed it deserved.
Her parents had put their all into that shop. They’d died fighting for its survival. Arguing in the car over how best to keep it going. Their words causing her young self, who’d never heard them fight, to cry and plead for them to stop. Until they did stop. For good.
She knew the accident wasn’t her fault, but she carried the guilt of surviving, of being part of what contributed to the accident. Because of that she’d long ago promised herself to never let their legacy go. To hold it tight, as she wished she could hold them tight once more.
The door chimes tinkled, followed by the pitter-patter of small feet racing off to the children’s area Sophie’s mother had created. Filled with picture books and toys, it was a great way to keep the little ones occupied while their parents browsed in peace.
Sophie lifted her head to see Natalie walking towards her, her forehead corrugated with concern.
‘What’s up, Soph? You look rotten.’
Sophie propped her elbows on the counter and placed her chin in her hands. ‘Just what every girl wants to hear. I look a mess. Wonderful.’ She winked to let Natalie know she wasn’t insulted. ‘Just a headache that won’t budge.’
Natalie’s head twisted towards the back where Alexander was still hammering away. ‘With that going on I’m not surprised. What’s that Fletcher guy doing out there, anyway? Not that I’m complaining. I may not be in the market for a man, but I still know how to appreciate a good-looking one when I see one.’ Natalie fanned herself with a laugh.
‘Ugh.’ Sophie wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘He’s too annoying to be good-looking. He’s got it in his head that he wants to help me save my business by building shelves and helping me freshen the place up. I suspect there’s a hidden agenda of some sort. Speaking of which…’ Sophie caught Natalie’s eye and held it. ‘You’ve been hiding something from me.’
‘Me?’ Natalie shook her head. ‘Don’t think so. I know I didn’t tell you about wanting to leave, but that was because I didn’t think it would ever happen, so what was the point?’
‘Not about leaving. About your website. You built it. Alexander told me. Ginny was here and it was as big a surprise to her as it was to me. Since when do you build websites? Since when are you really good at it?’ Sophie skipped round the desk, hooked her arm through Natalie’s, pulled her to the sofa and dragged her down to sit beside her. ‘I thought a professional had done your website. It’s that good.’
Natalie’s cheeks flamed red. ‘It’s nothing, honestly. Just something I thought I’d try. I didn’t have the money to hire anyone to do it for me and I’ve always been okay with computers…’
‘Okay with computers? You were a right whizz at school. Able to fix things when we couldn’t. We were always surprised you didn’t take it further.’
‘Taking it further would’ve meant leaving here. Leaving my ex. My life. It just seemed… easier… if I stayed here and took the hairdressing apprenticeship that was on offer. Get married. Have kids. Do the regular thing.’ Natalie shrugged. ‘I don’t know, with business slowing up I had some time on my hands and I guess I wanted to see what else I could do. See if I could make web design a side business, or perhaps one day a full-time one.’
Sophie took Natalie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘You can do anything you put your mind to, Nat, and I want to be your first client. You can make me a website. One where I can sell my books. Er…’ Heat washed over Sophie’s cheek as she realised she was going to have to talk money, or lack thereof. ‘Erm, one thing though…’
‘You know what?’ Natalie tapped her finger on her chin. ‘If it works for you, I’d like to do it gratis. As long as you don’t mind me using it as an example on my business website and perhaps writing me a client recommendation?’
Sophie leaned over and planted a loud kiss on Natalie’s cheek, grateful that her friend had helped her avoid a sticky topic, and for her generosity. ‘You are amazing. Best friend ever. I’ll write you the most glowing recommendation the internet’s ever seen.’
Natalie clucked her tongue. ‘You might not say that once you see it.’
Sophie went to reprimand Natalie for not having enough faith in herself but was interrupted by a coupling of pants and grunts.
The door to the backroom squeaked open, and a broad back – not that Sophie was looking, or found it attractive in any way, shape or form, even if she kind of did – greeted her, followed by a bookshelf that was so tall it had to be dragged in on an angle.
Sophie pushed herself up and rushed to help Alexander, her previous irritation with him disappearing as she saw him struggling under the weight of his glorious creation. She stopped a few feet away, unsure of what to do next. ‘Do you want a hand with that? Or if I get in the way will that thing tip over and squash us both?’
Alexander waved her away. ‘It’s all good. I’m fine.’ Then with one more grunt he pulled the bookshelf into the room, set it upright and gave it a loving slap. ‘There you go. What do you think?’
She ran her hand over the timber and admired the bookshelf. It was simple but solid. In other words, it was perfect. The shelves looked to be evenly spaced, and she suspected if she were to get out a pencil and place it in the middle of a shelf it wouldn’t roll to the left or right. As even as its creator was even-tempered. Because if she’d been Alexander, she’d have told her to pull her head in and stop being such a rude cow by now.
‘You know you didn’t have to do this. I mean, I told you to stop.’
‘Is that your way of saying thank you?’ Alexander tipped his head to one side, his eyebrows raising in amusement.
God, there she was being rude again. If he wasn’t here to rip out the heart of the place she called home, she suspected she’d have found it easy to be polite to Alexander. They may have even been able to become friends. Sure, he’d come across as a bit of an arse when they’d first met in his slick suit and perfectly manicured everything, but standing here in his T-shirt and shorts, looking a little hot and sweaty, with a hint of a shadow peppering his jawline, a laughing smile that emphasised the sparkle in his green eyes, and his hair roughed up as if he’d just run his hands through it, he looked straight up sex—.
Nope. She closed her eyes, blocking the cause of her unexpected lusty thoughts. Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.
It didn’t matter how good Alexander looked; at the end of the day he’d only come here to woo her into selling her home.
No. Wrong word.
Not ‘woo’.
Persuade. Convince. Strongly suggest.
There would be no wooing.
‘I must be a sight for sore eyes.’
‘Ha?’ She opened her eyes to find his smile had quirked
to the side.
‘Or maybe you’re so overcome with the beauty of this shelf you can’t stand to look at it for too long. Well, you’d better get used to it. There are more where that’s coming from. You wanted to create a library ambience. I’m going to give you it.’
‘Oh, sorry. The sun was reflecting off…’ She glanced around looking for a reflective surface. Nothing jumped out to help her excuse viable. ‘Off something. Or, you’re right, just dazzled by the shelf. It really is perfect. Thank you.’
‘Manners. She has them. Who knew?’ Alexander threw his hands up in surprise.
Sophie went to defend herself, but stopped. He was teasing. And he’d just done something nice for her. That, and he had a point.
‘Well when someone’s not being all pushy in a suit that probably costs more than I make in a month, I can be quite pleasant.’
Alexander laughed. Deep and throaty, it filled the room. Open and warm. Pleasant. If Sophie didn’t know better she’d have said it belonged to a man you could trust.
And what has he done to make you believe you can’t trust him?
Nothing. Absolutely not a thing. Sophie hated to admit it, but Alexander had been straight up with her the whole time. In fact, it felt like he’d gone out of his way to be upfront, to be transparent.
Did that mean she should trust him? Logic suggested yes, the past screamed no.
‘Wow. That’s really impressive.’
Sophie spun round to see Natalie standing just behind her.
‘Is there anything you can’t do? Businessman by day, carpenter by… well, day.’ Natalie flashed Alexander a dimpled grin.
Was it Sophie’s imagination or was there a little flirt in Natalie’s voice? And why did the idea that Natalie might find Alexander attractive niggle her?
Was she jealous? Nooooooo. She kicked the thought away. Not jealous, just irritated that her friend was appreciative of anything the man who was meant to be the enemy did.
‘Thanks, Natalie. Kind of you to say. I’m looking forward to building more.’ Alexander’s attention moved from Natalie to Sophie. ‘That’s if seeing what I can do has changed your mind about me hanging around and helping you out?’
Hanging around and helping her out? He made it sound like she was doing him a favour by allowing him to build the shelves?
‘It would be rude not to, Soph. It really does look fantastic.’ Natalie raised her eyebrows, egging her on.
‘And I’m happy to do it, honestly.’ Alexander ran his hand up and down the length of the bookshelf. ‘Were you planning to paint or stain it? Because I’d be happy to help with that too.’
Sophie crossed her arms. Physically and mentally reminding herself she had to keep her guard up. Alexander’s openness, his honesty, was disarming and she didn’t know what to make of it. How to handle it.
‘I was planning to stain them dark brown. Keep with that old library feeling.’
‘Love it.’ Alexander nodded his approval. ‘Now where can I put this?’
Sophie pointed to a blank bit of wall at the back of the shop. ‘Pop it over there for the time being, please. Wouldn’t want it falling onto a customer.’
Alexander hefted the shelf up and shuffled it over to the space she’d indicated. ‘How many more of these do you want? I was thinking five more would really create that library look, and there’s enough pallets for it. Then we could place them back-to-back for stability down the centre of the shop?’
‘Five sounds good.’ Natalie poked the small of her back. ‘Don’t you think, Soph?’
Sophie looked over her shoulder and glared at her friend. Her look was met with a slight shrug of shoulders and an unrepentant smile. She rolled her eyes at Natalie, then faced Alexander once again.
‘It’s kind of you to offer, Alexander, really, but it’s not fair of me to waste your time building shelves when I’m sure you’ve better things to do.’ Sophie waited for Alexander to accept her words, to back down, but his mouth didn’t move. No backdown came.
What was going on? Why was he so determined to help her out when he didn’t have to? He knew the score. Knew she wasn’t selling. Knew she wasn’t his greatest fan – the furthest thing from it – and yet he insisted on sticking round, which should have felt uncomfortable bordering on stalkerish, but for some reason Sophie couldn’t put her finger on, felt anything but.
‘Well, I’d love to hang around here all day and watch you two dance around each other…’ Natalie nudged Sophie good-naturedly. ‘But the kids and I have got to go. I told Ginny we’d meet her and Mike down at the pub for a drink. You should come.’ Her gaze moved from Sophie to Alexander. ‘Both of you.’
‘Sounds great. I’m parched after all that work. What do you say, Sophie?’
Sophie drew her brows together and directed her fiercest glare at Alexander, who returned the look with a benign smile.
‘My shout. It’s the least I can do.’
The least he could do? Sophie’s curiosity deepened. She was the one who was getting something out of this unorthodox, and unsettling, situation. Free shelves. Free workmanship. A fresh look for the shop. How was this benefitting Alexander?
Her annoyance dissipated as quickly as it had arisen. ‘No, it has to be my shout. It’s the least I can do, considering what you’ve made me today.’
‘Great. That’s that sorted.’ Natalie’s lips lifted in satisfaction. ‘Joe, Bella, get a wriggle on. Time for lemonade and crisps.’ The kids ran up and danced around her in excitement. ‘See you two soon.’
With a waggle of fingers, she and the kids were off, leaving Sophie and Alexander staring at each other. Awkwardness sprung up from nowhere, like a boundary had been crossed in the past few moments. One that couldn’t be uncrossed.
Alexander stuffed his hands into his short pockets. ‘I probably shouldn’t have answered for both of us like that … It’s just a beer sounded really good and I thought you might like one, too.’ He dropped his gaze and rocked a little on his heels.
Sophie went to agree with him, to tell him he was indeed wrong to answer for her, but something in his demeanour – a vulnerability – stopped her. This wasn’t the confident Alexander who wore suits and expected the world to do his bidding. This Alexander appeared kind and thoughtful, capable of thinking about others’ feelings and needs.
‘It’s fine, honestly. You’re right, a beer does sound good. It’s stinking hot and you’ve been out in it all day. And, before you get all gentlemanly on me, it really is my shout.’
A hint of a blush hit Alexander’s cheeks. ‘That’s very kind, thank you. Is there somewhere I can wash up?’ He showed her his palms, ingrained with dirt. ‘I’d forgotten that building was dirty work.’
Forgotten? He said it like he’d once been an actual builder. Which explained how handy he was with tools. How well constructed the shelf was. How quickly he’d built it.
‘There’s a toilet just off to the side of the storeroom. It’s got a basin, soap, you know… hand-washing stuff.’
He nodded his thanks and made his way towards the door. His forearm hair brushed against hers as he passed her. A tingle of… something… rippled over her skin at the touch. Spreading, infusing her with warmth.
She touched her cheeks. They were burning. And Sophie was willing to bet they were bright red, too. Thank God Alexander hadn’t paused at the door to say anything to her or he’d have seen the effect a simple touch from a man had on her.
A man. Not Alexander. It could’ve been any man – any man – and she would’ve reacted the same way.
Sophie flapped her hands towards her face and hoped the hint of cool breeze would dissolve the flush of colour.
‘Done.’ Alexander filled the doorframe with little space to spare. All broad shoulders, toned arms and just the right amount of tall. He had the kind of body that would give a training-honed rugby player a run for his money.
Heat prickled her chest, threatened to rise once more.
‘God, I need a drink.’ She
cringed when she realised she’d said it out loud. Could she be any more obvious?
Alexander took a step towards her. ‘Lucky for us we’re off to the pub.’
Sophie stepped back, then ducked down behind the counter under the pretence of grabbing her bag, and used the excuse to fan her face once more while attempting to breathe the heat out.
‘You right down there?’
Sophie screwed her face up. Awesome. How was she going to explain her self-ventilation? She tipped her head to see Alexander looking amused… and, if his angled brows were anything to go by, confused.
‘Yeah. Fine. Just a bit flustered. I mean hot. Flustered because it’s hot.’ She mentally face-palmed her waffling self, then pushed herself up from her squatting position. ‘You ready?’
‘Absolutely.’
Alexander opened the door and Sophie walked through without even an attempt to tell him she didn’t need men to open doors for her, because even though she was capable of opening her own doors, and never held back in saying so, for some reason she quite liked that this man did it for her.
Clearly the heat was getting to her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alexander kept pace with Sophie as she hot-footed it towards the pub. Her eyes forward-facing, her shoulders pushed back, her lips twisted to the side in a way that indicated she was deep in thought. Musing over something.
She’d been this way since they’d left the shop, and the silence was getting to him. In a matter of days he’d seen angry Sophie, happy Sophie, suspicious Sophie, but this silent Sophie flummoxed him.
Mainly because he had a feeling that he was somehow tied up in the reason for her silence. Though he couldn’t put his finger on the reason why.
Either way, it wouldn’t do. Not when he was about to enter a pub full of Sophie’s friends and fellow villagers, who either saw him as the enemy or as the person who held their fate in their hands. He needed at least one person who, if not on his side, would actually talk to him like a proper human being.
The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove Page 6