Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Alexander

W as it too early to knock on the bookshop door? It was just shy of eight, and even though I knew the shop didn’t usually open until mid-morning, I had a solution for Rosie’s computer problem. If running the business was hedging on using that ancient laptop of hers, it wasn’t going to go very smoothly.

Rosie opened the door looking like a bouquet of flowers in purple overalls and a frilly red blouse that upon closer inspection revealed the lacy outline of her bra. Pulling my eyes away from that enticing sight, I tilted my head at the bird feeder she held in her hands.

Was this woman purposely trying to make me fall in love with her ?

Between her delicious curves, her colorful clothes, and now, apparently an interest in birds, I was going to have a tough time falling asleep tonight.

“Oh, Alexander. Hi. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Actually, never mind, I was expecting everyone.” Her nose crinkled as she rolled her eyes at me.

“You were?”

“I don’t think it seems to matter if I have my sign flipped to open or closed. People seem to just wander in whenever they want.”

“Oh.” Shite, I’d screwed up by coming this early. “I can come back.”

“No, no. That wasn’t a dig at you. More at me and being rigid.”

The word rigid at her lips did weird things to my gut and I had to take a deep breath.

“Whenever there’s something new in a small town, it’s quite a big event.” I still stood on the doorstep, the morning air crisp and cool at my shoulders.

“I’m gathering that. It appears I’m going to have to adjust to … many new things.” She glanced over her shoulder at that and then back at me.

Was someone with her in the shop?

And why did that instantly annoy me? I knew next to nothing about this woman and it was more than likely she did have a partner.

“Someone there?” Damn it. I couldn’t help but ask.

“What? Oh, no. Nothing like that. Come in, come in.” Rosie stepped back, the bird feeder still in hand, and I made my way past her, making sure my backpack didn’t catch any of the random bits and bobs tucked in front of the books on the shelves.

“What birds are you trying to attract?”

“Excuse me?” Rosie looked at me blankly and licked her plum-colored lips. She probably hadn’t even realized she’d done it, but it sent a jolt of lust through me.

“The bird feeder?” I gestured to her hands.

“Oh, right. Right. I have no idea. I just dug this out of a box as I was trying to organize. I don’t know where to hang it or what to feed the birds. I’ve never had an outdoor space before.”

“Really?” I tried to imagine not having nature to immerse myself in and couldn’t. I’d grown up basically feral, running the hills and shoreline, and aside from university, had never lived in a city.

“Really. My apartment was a tiny one-bedroom that I’ve had since college. I was lucky it came with windows, frankly, since it was so cheap.”

“No garden growing up?”

Rosie threw her head back and laughed, the sound sending a prickle of awareness over me, like someone blowing a soft breath across heated skin.

“No staying anywhere long enough. My mother was, is , impetuous, sporadic, and largely absentminded. She’d either grow tired of a place, forget to pay rent, or move on a whim. And I was just a second thought, a back-seat passenger along for the ride.”

I tried to imagine my steady and graceful mother packing me up and moving yearly. I just couldn’t do it. She’d enjoyed being settled as much as I had, and she’d provided an exceedingly stable foundation for me to grow on.

“That had to have been?—”

“Exciting?” Rosie said, quickly, too quickly. “Of course, it was. Loads of new experiences and meeting new friends and all that.”

“I was going to say tough.” I kept my eyes on hers and saw the brief flash of pain before she turned away. From what I remembered of my boyhood years, it hadn’t always been easy to make new friends.

“Oh, it was fine. I’m fine.” Rosie waved a hand in the air.

It didn’t seem like she was fine. It sounded like she’d had a careless mother who’d had a child who needed love and attention. But this was not a problem I could solve, nor really weigh in on, and I did my best not to offer advice when it wasn’t asked for. So instead, I redirected the conversation.

“Do you know what kind of birds you’d like to see outside your window?”

“Um.” Rosie pursed those pretty lips. “Happy birds. I’d like to see happy birds.”

At that, I huffed out a small laugh.

“Any bird getting food in the winter is going to be a happy bird.”

“Perfect. That’s what I want then.”

“I’ll bring some feed by for you.”

“Oh, no. I’m sure I can get some on my own. You don’t have to do that.”

“I have entire bins of it.” I held my hands out to show the size. “It will get you started, and then once you get an idea if you’ll remember to fill it or not, you can start buying your own.”

Rosie tossed me an affronted look.

“You’d think I’d forget to feed my birds?”

I grinned. “I’m only saying that it’s easy to forget if it is not a habit for you. That’s all.”

“I would never let my birds down. They need me.”

“You haven’t even met them yet,” I pointed out, taking off my backpack and hanging up my coat on the rack at the door. “What if they’re a bunch of wankers?”

“How dare you call my birds wankers. Wait, what’s a wanker?”

“I’m not!” I held a hand to my heart, holding back laughter. “I’m just saying … what if they are?”

“I will have happy birds. The best birds in all the land. No wankers allowed.” Rosie narrowed her eyes at me, and I held my hands up.

“That’s fine then. Do you want me to make a sticker for your feeder that says that?”

“You’ve got a sticker machine?”

“Well, a label maker.”

“Keep talking.” Rosie fanned her face, and I laughed outright this time.

“I’m sensing you like organization?”

“I’m an absolute slut for it. I love lists, labels, neat little boxes that hold tiny little things. It makes my heart sing.”

“A woman after my own heart. I’m a programmer,” I explained, crouching to unzip my backpack. “Well, a software engineer. We love when things are logical and line up. It’s built into our very DNA.”

“That makes sense. One wrong line of code and the whole thing can crash, right?”

“Pretty much.” Pulling out the laptop I’d spent a good portion of the evening refurbishing and installing programs on, I placed it on the table. Rosie eyed it suspiciously before looking up at me.

“What’s that?”

“That, lass, is what we call a laptop. They are a new invention from the last forty years or so, but one that has gained popular traction around the world.”

“I know what a laptop is.” Rosie stomped her foot in the most adorable manner, and I grinned. Wow, that was like three smiles and two laughs before ten in the morning. It was more than I’d laughed in weeks. “What is this laptop?”

“This laptop is now yours.”

“What? No. No . Alexander, I couldn’t. I can’t.” Rosie put the bird feeder on the table and promptly picked up the computer to hand it back to me.

“Sure you can. It’s easy. You just say, thank you Alexander, and we skip this whole song and dance where you pretend you don’t need it to run the shop.”

“You can’t just gift me a laptop.” Rosie squinted at me like she wasn’t sure if I was all there. “You don’t even know me.”

“What would make you more comfortable about accepting this? Do you want to get to know me better? Och, go on then. Fire away.”

“Fine. How did you come up with a laptop so fast?”

“I have a good twenty of them sitting around.”

Rosie’s mouth dropped open. “You do?”

“Yes, Rosie. It’s what I do. This is an older model, but not too old, gently used, and honestly not worth all that much in today’s market. But it’s serviceable and will suit your needs just fine.”

“Hmm.” Rosie looked up at the air and then back at me. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-four.”

“What’s your astrological sign?”

My lips quirked. “Capricorn.”

“Mustard or mayo?”

“Depends on the situation.”

“Sandwich.” Rosie narrowed her eyes at me.

“Mayo.”

“How many pillows for sleep?”

“One is sufficient.”

Rosie scoffed and shook her head. “If you live in a prison.”

“How many pillows do you use?”

“At least three. I like one for my head and one on either side of me so when I turn, I can wrap around it.”

Instantly my mind went to images of a sleep-flushed Rosie, all soft and round and warm, and I had to pull my mind away because the very thought made me a little dizzy.

“Rock music or hip-hop?”

“Both. Depends on the mood.”

“Concerts or raves? ”

“Concerts.”

“Board games or video games?”

“Both.”

“Correct choice.” Rosie beamed at me. “Favorite book?”

“Recently or ever? That’s tough. I read all over the spectrum.”

“Now and all-time.”

“Hmm, I really enjoyed Richard Osman’s newest, but The Hobbit is a classic for a reason. It made me believe in fantasy lands and that I, a humble boy, could defeat the big baddies. I used to race across the fields and build forts that were like hobbit holes and then defend them with a branch.”

“A warrior at heart, eh?” Rosie sized me up. Did I puff out my chest a little? Yeah, I did. So what?

“I think we all hope to be the hero of our own story.” I was getting a little too close to my own personal wounds for comfort, but there was no way for Rosie to know that.

“True enough. Favorite date night meal?”

“I don’t date.”

“If you did date,” Rosie amended with an annoyed little shake of her head that sent the mass of hair on top of her head tumbling about. I wanted to reach out and run my hands through the strands to see if it was as silky as it looked.

“It depends what the lady liked. I wouldn’t cook her steak if she was a vegetarian, you ken?”

“So you’d cook on a first date? ”

“Aye. Unless she’d want a fancy night out. Then I’d find a good restaurant.”

“You’d let her choose then?”

“I’d like to surprise her a bit, but I think she should get some say in what we do.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“None, only child.”

“Same!” Rosie reached out a hand and I realized she was trying to high five me. I tapped my hand lightly against hers and warmth raced down my arm at her touch.

“Is that enough for you to accept this gift?” I asked, wondering how long we’d be doing this round of questioning.

“Why birds?”

“Why birds what?” My eyebrows rose.

“Like, why are you into them? I thought it might just be the puffin you rescued, but you said you have buckets of birdseed so you must like them.”

“Oh.” I took a moment to think about it. Uncomfortable, I rubbed at a spot on my chest. “Many reasons, I guess. My mum loved them. She used to take me out every winter looking for the snow buntings, her favorites. Which is how I found the rescue puffin. I still go out, even though she’s passed on.”

Rosie’s eyes softened with sympathy, but I rushed on before she could interject.

“And I guess, I don’t know, I kind of like the gamification aspect of it? There’s this website, you see, that you can track all your finds. By your home, when you travel, that kind of thing. And you get ranked the more birds you find. It ends up being like a big scavenger hunt. It also gives me an excuse to get out in nature, particularly when the weather isn’t great. Which is quite often here. It’d be a lot easier to just hunker in every day through the winter. But birding forces me to get out and explore.”

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting all that. So it’s more than just liking birds.”

“Aye. Also, I do think they’re pretty cool. But not enough to drag me out of bed and into the icy winter. I think it’s the gaming aspect that drives me to do that. I want to up my rank.”

“Makes perfect sense to me.” Rosie nodded. “Fine. I will begrudgingly accept your kind gesture so long as you accept mine.”

“Which is what?”

“I won’t be charging you for your books for the next six months.”

“Och, come on, Rosie. You need to make money too.”

“Nope, you’ll not convince me otherwise. Take it or leave it.”

Looked like I was going to be reading on my Kindle more often to save her from giving away too many free books. Giving up, I nodded.

“That’s fine then. Now, show me this bad boy.”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory. I didn’t password protect it because I figured you’d want to set one, so we can do that now.” Crouching by the table, I fired up the computer and ran my hands over the keyboard until the settings screen popped up. “Here, enter your password. ”

I turned away, closing my eyes so she’d know I wouldn’t look, and then silently berated myself for doing so. She pressed close to me, all warmth and heat and lush curves, and I wanted to lean into her softness. I wanted to peel those silly purple overalls off her body and see if the shirt was as sheer as I thought it was when the corduroy material wasn’t covering her breasts. It made me ache, her being fully covered, yet teasing with glimpses of something more.

“All done.” I realized that Rosie had repeated herself and I turned, finding her face close to mine.

Our eyes caught.

The moment hung suspended, the music dimming in the background, and I ached to lean forward for just a small taste. Her lips begged to be kissed and I, to my absolute surprise, wanted to be the man to do it.

The bells at the door rang and we sprang apart.

“Well now, what do we have here?” Esther barked from the door and my face flushed as I bent to dig in my backpack for the charger.

“Just delivering a working computer,” I said, taking far longer than I needed to pull out the charger that was neatly packed on the side of my bag.

“Isn’t that nice?” Esther singsonged, and I rolled my eyes. So it begins.

“Ladies, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Rosie asked, deflecting the attention. Putting the charger next to the computer, I rose and turned.

Meredith, Cherise, Shannon, and Esther stood clustered by the doorway, each carrying a box or a bag, except for Esther. Esther had a whiteboard in her hand. The women were already chattering among themselves, ignoring us, as they hung up coats and carried the boxes and bags over to the table.

They all wore Christmas jumpers.

Pursing my lips, I checked my smart watch. We had two days until December, so not technically Christmas month yet, but that didn’t seem to stop these ladies.

Meredith’s shirt had two bottles of gin tied together with a big Christmas bow and it read Gin-gle Bells .

Shannon’s had a cartoon drawing of a Christmas cookie with Out here looking like a snack.

My favorites were Cherise’s and Esther’s.

Cherise’s had a puffin holding mistletoe with Merry Puffin Christmas.

Esther’s had two puffins dancing with a Christmas tree in the middle and it read, Puffin around the Christmas tree.

“Love the jumpers,” I said.

“We didn’t want wee Tattie to feel like we didn’t support him.” Esther sniffed in Meredith’s direction.

“What? You didn’t tell me it was another puffin day. Plus, you were hogging the cricut machine.”

“You make these?” Rosie asked, delighted. “Oh, these could be fun for the shop. We should sell them.”

Esther carried her whiteboard across the room and set it on an empty shelf behind the table. Rosie looked at me and I shrugged.

“It’s time for a meeting.” Esther clapped her hands together.

“Would you hold on? Can I put the kettle on?” Without waiting for an answer, Meredith disappeared past Rosie and into another room and Rosie waved a hand weakly in the air.

“I can do it. That’s my—” But it was too late, Meredith was already gone.

“Did she just go into your private flat and make herself tea?” I lowered my voice and leaned closer to Rosie.

“She did. I have no idea how to handle this.”

“Want me to say something?”

“God, no. And break their hearts? I think they know how much power they hold simply because everyone is too scared to stand up to them.”

“Agreed.”

“Um, what is all this?” Rosie pitched her voice higher and leaned a bit closer. I caught a whiff of her scent, something soft and seductive, reminding me of steamy summer afternoons.

“We needed to give you some time to get your feet under you yesterday. But, now that you’re all sorted, it’s time to get down to brass tacks.” Esther put her hands on her hips and glowered at us. Rosie recoiled.

“Are we going to war?” Rosie whispered.

“You can consider it such,” Shannon warned.

“What is happening?” Rosie looked at me.

“I think it’s the?—”

“It’s the Winter Windows competition. St. Andrews wins every year and, well, we’re sick of it. While Moira did a great job decorating, she didn’t change it up enough, which is why St. Andrews always edged us out. But not this time. Nooooo, not this year. We’re going to take those posh twats down.” Esther sliced an arm across her neck and Rosie’s eyebrows winged up her forehead.

“We’re really doing this?”

“It’s just a decorating competition,” I said out of the side of my mouth.

Esther slammed a hand on the table and Rosie and I jumped.

“It’s not just a decorating competition, lad. It’s the most elite bookshop holiday window decorating competition in the world.”

“Are there many bookshop window decorating competitions? Is there a database somewhere that I can track previous wins?” I asked. Rosie snorted quietly and warmth filled me. I considered that comment a win, even if it earned me a glare from Esther.

“It’s that kind of attitude that’s going to lose us the prize. Don’t make me demote you.”

“You’re a part of this?” Rosie looked up at me.

“Involuntary volunteer,” I whispered.

“I heard that.” Esther turned to her whiteboard and uncapped a marker. The marker squeaked as she wrote “Destroy St. Andrews” in large block letters.

“There’s the Christmas spirit.” I nodded.

“Is it even Christmas if you’re not plotting someone else’s demise?” Rosie wondered out loud.

“The true meaning of the holiday season,” I agreed.

“Esther’s going to put you on her naughty list if you two keep it up,” Cherise warned us.

“Why do I feel like Santa’s naughty list and Esther’s are wildly different?” Rosie asked.

“Oh, they are. Neither of you go on my naughty list because both of you together couldn’t handle me. Now, on my shite list, yes, I’ll put both of you there if you don’t straighten up and focus on the task at hand.”

My mouth dropped open, as did Rosie’s. We looked at each other and came to a silent agreement that neither of us wanted more information about Esther’s naughty list.

“Um, how is the competition judged? Are there rules?”

“There’s an independent panel of judges who aren’t affiliated with the participating shops. There are no rules except it has to be a holiday theme of sorts. And there are four windows, one for each weekend, to draw crowds to the store.”

“Crowds?” Rosie paled a bit.

“It’s very popular. And good business for the bookshops.”

“What was St. Andrews’ winning window last year?” I asked.

“A literary Nutcracker.”

“What does that mean exactly?” I accepted a cup of tea from Meredith and leaned back against the table. When my shoulder brushed Rosie’s and she didn’t move, I realized that I enjoyed her closeness. It felt…companionable. Like we were in this together, a team against the overwhelmingness of the Book Bitches .

“They made different famous literary characters and then staged them as parts in the Nutcracker.”

“Ah, I see. Okay, okay.” Rosie tapped a finger against her lips. “So if I do this, it’s going to take considerable time and effort because it can’t be basic.”

“What do you mean if you do this?” Esther demanded. “You will do this.”

“Will I?” Rosie arched a brow.

“You will. And you’ll love it. And we’re going to go bigger and better and more extravagant than anyone’s seen before!”

“For a wee window competition? Isn’t that excessive?” I asked, earning Esther’s wrath.

“ Your questions are excessive.”

“Right. My apologies.” Soon she’d tell me I was excess baggage and I’d likely be kicked off the team. Yesterday, I’d wanted nothing to do with the Book Bitches and their competition, but today, after seeing Rosie in her bright clothes and subtly indecent top, my interest had been piqued.

Which it shouldn’t be. Because I’d sworn off dating and women. I was finally at peace with my life and there was nothing wrong with being single, or with being content with your life as you know it.

“Well, it certainly could be a way to drum up more business over the holiday season.” Rosie worried her bottom lip, as she glanced outside to where rain pelted the windows. “And I had planned to decorate as Moira left loads of boxes. Why not? I’m in. St. Andrews is going down.”

I internally groaned at her phrasing of choice and looked away. Clearly my libido was back in full force. We were talking about Christmas decorations of all things. There was nothing sexy about decorating. If anything, it just led to arguments and tangled strings of lights.

“Right, team. Let’s workshop some ideas.” Esther held a marker to the board. “Nothing is a bad idea.”

“Willy Wonka,” I said, even though I had no idea why.

“What? That makes zero sense.” Esther shook her head.

“I thought there were no bad ideas.” Immediate betrayal by my teammates, I see.

“No, it’s not bad, Esther. You could do all sorts of fun things with the candy and have golden tickets tucked in the books. It’s not a bad idea at all.” Rosie bumped my shoulder and I smiled smugly at Esther.

“Noted.” Esther wrote it down.

“A giant pop-up book,” Meredith suggested.

“ Narnia ,” Cherise tossed out.

“Gingerbread houses but made out of book covers.”

“Enchanted forest.”

“ Alice in Wonderland .”

“Jane Austen.”

“ Sherlock Holmes .”

“Christmas under the sea.”

“Christmas around the world.”

“Christmas in space.”

“Stop!” Esther cried, putting her hand in the air. She finished scribbling the last of the suggestions that the group had shouted out. “That’s enough. For now. There are some good ones in there. Well, some. Christmas under the sea?” Esther rolled her eyes at Shannon.

“Och, it would be great fun. A mermaid Christmas? We live right at the ocean.”

“I mean, I kind of like it,” Rosie said. “Could there be puffins?”

“Ohhh, I’m in.” I grinned as Esther’s cheeks mottled. “All for Christmas under the sea?”

Four of us raised our hands. Cherise started to but dropped it at Esther’s expression.

“Well, I see I’ve been outvoted. Fine, then. But when this window ranks poorly, don’t come crying to me.”

“Och, go on then, Esther. You know it’ll be just lovely. Don’t be in a huff.”

“I’m not in a huff.” Esther sniffed and turned her back. She was a woman in a huff if ever I’d seen one.

“But you do the best designs. We have four chances. Isn’t it best we start with the smallest idea and work up to the best? That way we can really wow them by the end of the month,” Meredith said.

“I suppose.” Esther turned and stuck her nose in the air. “But I’m putting pirates in as well.”

“Naturally. We wouldn’t want them not to get a Christmas gift either.” Rosie nodded as though a pirate, puffin, and mermaid-themed Christmas window made any sense at all.

“It’s going to be great. Esther will draw up the design and we can pick up materials. Once we have a design, Alexander can figure out the lights and the music. ”

“The music?” Rosie asked, arching a brow up at me.

“Aye. They want lights that change in beat to the music.”

“Won’t that be a tad annoying to listen to on repeat all day?” Rosie trailed off as Esther gave a deep sigh.

“Right, music it is.” Turning to me, Rosie bumped my shoulder again. “Hey, is it possible I could meet your puffin? I’ve never seen one before and, from their photos, I think they are just too cute.”

“Oh,” I said. Caught, I didn’t dare glance around as silence filled the bookshop. “Aye, that’d be fine. Just one person shouldn’t be much disruption to him.”

“Oh cool. That will give me something to look forward to after work. Now, let me just go grab some of those boxes of decorations.” Rosie disappeared into the back room and silence filled the shop. I turned and made a great show of zipping up my backpack, refusing to look at the Book Bitches.

“Say, Meredith, wasn’t it just yesterday that Alexander mentioned that nobody could come visit Tattie? That visitors would be too much excitement for the wee bird?”

“I believe it was, Esther. Just yesterday indeed. At the coffee shop.”

Bloody hell.

“I’m sure one person will be fine,” I hissed, keeping my voice low.

“So we can come by one at a time then?” Esther pressed.

Caught, I stared at them like a deer in headlights .

Shannon threw her head back and laughed while Cherise shook her head, making a clucking noise with her lips.

“I think the lad’s got a wee crush.”

“You know, we can help you with this.” Esther marched closer. “We’re practically legendary when it comes to our matchmaking.”

“Matchmaking?” Rosie said, and I froze, feeling the blood drain out of my face. Nope, this was not what I needed.

“Ladies, I have to run. I have a Zoom call soon.” I didn’t. I was absolutely lying, but I needed an out. I was already past my limit for conversation for the day and it wasn’t even ten o’clock. Slipping my backpack on, I made to leave.

“Wait.” Rosie grabbed my arm. “How will I find your house?”

My cheeks burning, I turned and wrote my number down for her while the Book Bitches watched gleefully on. Barely able to say goodbye, I grabbed my coat and tossed it over my shoulders and backpack, not caring that I hadn’t properly put it on.

The ice-cold rain that slapped my face was a sharp reminder to not get too comfortable.

“Bloody hell,” I murmured again. What was I getting myself into?