Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Rosie

I had a blessedly quiet afternoon.

And I loved it.

Loved it.

I’d never had a chance to make my own decisions when it came to doing anything in a retail space before, and having the complete freedom to rearrange as I saw fit was honestly exhilarating.

Moira kept me company by serving up a wide variety of musical hits, and I’d started to call her DJ M by the end of the afternoon. That seemed to tickle her fancy and she’d started playing quite a mix of dance hits after that, and it kept me moving as I took stock of the shelves, made decorating notes, and mocked up different configurations for the shelves and furniture in the room. It was a clever system she’d devised, because—get this—the bookshelves were on wheels. I wasn’t confident on unhooking them and moving them on my own, but at least I had the option.

The bookshop itself was one of those buildings with excellent bones. Which made sense, as it had been around for almost two hundred years. I wanted to change the flow of the pedestrian traffic in the shop, as I noticed people were getting clustered by the door when they first came in, and if I moved one bookshelf and created more of an S shape, people could greet me at the table and then wind their way through the stacks. I also was pretty set on creating another seating area under the statement wall I was going to build out. I wanted to frame quotes from a multitude of books and put them in mismatching frames and create a gallery wall of sorts. Add some fun sconces and a really funky wallpaper, and I was certain it would turn out cozy as could be.

But it was the back garden that kept drawing my eye.

There were two ways to enter the garden, either through my personal quarters, or if you walked in the front door of the shop and turned right, there was a side door on the opposite wall. It was there I now stood, tucked in the open doorway, studying the garden space as a blast of wind brought me the scent of the sea and damp earth.

From what I could tell, Scotland didn’t have a lot of sunshiny days. However, back home, I was well used to long and nasty cold winters. Many of the restaurants and cafes had taken to creating outdoor seating in these small, clear domes with indoor heaters. I wondered if I could create a little weather-proof space out here, maybe offer coffee, and people could linger a while longer over their books. It was already a beautiful space, with a low stone wall coated in moss and vines, and a view across a rolling field at the back. Surely people would enjoy reading their books and staying a while here. I knew I would.

Going back inside, I made a note in my projects list to source quotes for a garden build-out. At the moment, I just didn’t have the funds for it, but it gave me something to work toward. I was very goal focused, so I slotted it in for a potential end-of-summer project, pending funds. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was already late in the afternoon.

“Shoot, I’d better message Alexander.” Honestly I could have kept working in the shop, I was so loving having the space to myself, but I also wasn’t a fan when someone changed plans last minute on me, so I didn’t want to do that to Alexander, particularly if he had planned any of his day around me stopping by. Picking up my phone, I texted him.

Permission to launch, sir?

Aye, lass.

Okay, my stomach shouldn’t flutter at that, but I couldn’t help it. Since nobody was around to notice, I squealed. There was just something about a hot Scottish man saying “Aye, lass” that excited me. Truly, I had no idea this was a thing for me prior to coming to Scotland, but it seemed I was uncovering new layers to myself every day.

Alexander pinned his location and I pulled it up to see how far it was from the shop since I didn’t have a car. Belatedly, I also realized I hadn’t been out to properly explore Kingsbarns yet. The Book Bitches had delivered so much food that I’d had more than enough to eat the past few days, and I’d been busy with the store. So, two new adventures for me today—exploring Kingsbarns and meeting my first puffin. Excited, I popped into my bathroom and checked my face in the mirror. Adding just a smidge more of eyeshadow and a dash of blush across my cheeks, I considered my outfit. I loved these overalls. Serviceable and cute, and they’d be perfect for a walk in the cold winter afternoon. The shirt might be a bit cold though. Considering, I grabbed my Fair Isle sweater vest and pulled it over my head, adding another layer of warmth. Switching my flats out for chunky leather boots, I grabbed a coat and an umbrella and swung a crossbody purse in brilliant red over my shoulder. Eyeing the map once more, I stepped out of Highland Hearts and locked the door behind me.

Tucked at the end of a short cobblestone lane, Highland Hearts looked incredibly charming with stone walls leading off on either side of it, and the soft glow of lights in the windows. Taking a step back, I held my hands up and framed it out like it was a picture.

It was going to look fabulous when it was decorated for Christmas. Suddenly, I wasn’t so against this Winter Windows competition. Why not have fun with it? It would bring people to the shop, and even though the shop was gorgeous and stunning on its own, adding some dressing would just sweeten it up that much more. Giddy at the thought, I hummed to myself as I jammed my hands in my coat and walked toward the main road, ducking my head against the wicked blast of wind that slapped at me. I didn’t mind it though. It wasn’t as cold as my winters back home, and there was something about being out in the elements that always excited me, particularly if there was inclement weather on.

At the end of the lane, I stopped and looked both directions on the main street. To my left, I could just see Two Sisters coffee house, the warm light from the windows a welcoming glow in the darkness of late afternoon. They’d already begun to decorate for the holidays, and twinkle lights winked around the door. Turning the other direction, toward the ocean my map told me, I stopped at a stone two-story building with a cheerful wooden sign hanging above the door.

The Royal Unicorn.

Ah yes, the pub that I had been told about. I needed to go in there and introduce myself to Harper, the American woman who had moved here last year. Maybe I’d stop in on my way back since it was literally around the corner from the shop. Humming, I continued on down the path that wound past cute one-story cottages, some already decorated with Christmas lights, before the road took me out of town. It really wasn’t a large town, but it was bigger than I’d first given it credit for as now I could see where more houses were tucked farther back behind the main road. It was still small enough that someday I’d likely know everyone here.

What a thought.

I’d never lived in such a small town before, and already I could see it was going to be a wild adjustment from what I was used to. Back home, I was fairly certain I’d only known two of my neighbors in my ten-unit apartment building, and that had only been because we’d kept getting our packages delivered to the wrong addresses.

Maybe this would be good for me. Friendships hadn’t come easily to me growing up, what with my mom moving me around so much, and I tended to be a loner who preferred a cozy night of reading my book over going out clubbing. Much to Jessica’s distress. The best thing about Jessica though was that she accepted me for who I was, and I’d been lucky to keep her friendship. Now I wondered what it would be like to make friends in this small town. Would people like me? Would they know all my business? Would I end up being invested in other people’s gossip? It was likely I’d hear it, between working at the shop and trying to make matches, so it might be a good thing for me to know and understand the people better that lived here. So far, I had felt so…accepted. Wanted. And that was such a welcome feeling. Jessica could be right about me staying here.

Turning up the lane on my map, I followed a gravel road that wound along a field of tall grass that was battened down by the recent rains. It was darker now, and I could hear the ocean, but not see it. Annoyed with myself for not thinking this through, timing wise, I used my phone as a flashlight to follow the winding road until a turn revealed a stunning cottage tucked between two cliffs with rolling hills on either side of it. I stopped, my jaw dropping open at the sight. The outdoor lights lit up the surrounding area, allowing me to see around, and my heart clutched at the beauty of this charming cottage, brimming with light, on this wild and windy landscape.

The door opened before I could even knock, and Alexander winced when he looked down at the phone in my hand.

“Bloody hell. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry.” Shaking his head, he stepped back and ushered me in. “You’re my first guest and I didn’t think you might be walking.”

“It’s my fault, I keep forgetting how early it gets dark here.” I handed him my coat and purse and took a deep breath. The house smelled like cedar and oranges, a refreshing scent, and warmth enveloped me. “Wait…did you just move in? I’m your first guest?”

Alexander glanced at me from where he hung my coat on a rack by the door. I noticed a bench with boots beneath and automatically sat to take mine off.

“Oh, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Alexander said. I looked up at him and caught him looking at my calf where I’d unzipped my boot, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Nope. All good. I’m sure I picked up some mud along the way. Thanks for having me over after I rudely invited myself to see your puffin.”

“Nae bother, hen.” Alexander just stood in the small alcove, looking at me, and I glanced up at him as I stood.

“What’s the whole hen thing about? Is that because I’m round?”

Alexander visibly blanched and then his cheeks pinkened. Rushing to explain, he waved his hands in front of him. “No, no, no. Not, no. It’s not that you’re round. I mean you are, but you don’t look like a chicken. It has nothing to do with body…”

He trailed off as I raised both eyebrows, giving him a bemused look.

Sighing, Alexander rubbed a hand over his face.

“Hen is just a term we use affectionately for women in Scotland. For example, we call a bachelorette party a Hen Do.”

“Is that right? So are men cocks then?”

Alexander visibly swallowed.

“No, um, we’re stags. It’s called a Stag Do.”

“So I can say ‘nae bother, stag’ and that’s a normal phrase?” Delighted, I turned the phrase around in my head. I was going to call so many men stags now that I knew this.

“Och, no. Not really. I guess it’s just the hen thing. We call each other lads or mates, but not stags.”

“Hmmm. Double standard much?”

“I suppose. I apologize on behalf of my country.”

“Accepted.” Grinning, I stood up. “How come I’m your first guest?”

Alexander did that visible swallowing thing again and I realized that I was asking a pretty nosey question for just having met someone.

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer?—”

“I don’t socialize much…anymore,” Alexander said at the same time.

“Oh.”

We stood, blinking at each other in the hallway for a moment, neither of us speaking. As the moment drew out, I wondered if this man maybe needed some help with socializing or if he just simply preferred life on his own. Or if there was another reason altogether why he was staring at my mouth the way he was.

“Do you maybe want to show me around? The place looks charming as can be from the outside,” I suggested and that snapped Alexander out of his intense focus on my lips. Visibly jolting, he turned away, gesturing for me to follow, and a shiver danced across the back of my neck. I hadn’t realized just how much his gaze had heated my skin until he’d turned away from me. It was like stepping away from a fire. It was a stark contrast to the indifference I’d felt from John… toward John . How was it possible to feel such intense attraction to a man I barely knew?

“Honestly, I got this place at a steal. It was falling down, but the foundation and walls were solid. I hired a roofer to rebuild the top half of the place so it was nice and watertight, and then I’ve basically spent the last three years doing the rest.”

“What do you mean doing the rest? You built this place?” I reached out and grabbed his arm, surprised. I’d thought he was a computer programmer. Yet the rippling muscles under my hand told me he clearly worked out whether that meant in the gym or swinging a hammer.

“Pretty much.” A shy grin crossed Alexander’s face, and I had to pause and remind myself that I wasn’t looking for a man. But I couldn’t help noticing how handsome he looked tonight in a fitted green Henley that showcased his broad shoulders. His hair was still damp from the shower. “YouTube is great if you want to learn things.”

“Wow.” Turning a circle, I studied the main room. The front door opened to a small hallway that could be closed off by a door, and then you stepped directly into the main room of the cottage. The wall directly across from us speared up almost two stories with huge windows that ended in a point at the apex of the room, and a large stone fireplace lined the wall cornering it. Low-slung leather couches were placed in an L-shape so you could either sit and watch the fire or stare out the windows to the sea as your mood decided. I immediately wanted to sling myself onto the couch in front of the fire, pile one of the several tartan blankets tucked on the back over my legs, and fall into my never-ending to-be-read pile. “What a great room. I’d never leave.”

“I rarely do.” Alexander laughed. “Aside from work of course.”

“Tell me more about your work? You program computers?”

“Among other things. I also teach, up at St. Andrews.”

“Get out.” I smacked his arm lightly, mainly because I wanted to touch his muscles again. “You’re a hot professor?”

“I have no idea how to answer that and not sound incredibly egotistical.” Alexander winced and led me toward a door on the other side of the room. “Kitchen.”

“Oh, I bet all the women in your class have a crush on you.”

“God, I hope not,” Alexander groaned, pushing the door open. “It’s awkward enough having to speak in front of a room full of people.”

“So why’d you do it?” I stepped through to a bright kitchen done in simple white cupboards, with a sky-blue mosaic backdrop. It was airy and clean, and had another tall window that likely showed the ocean as well. In front of it was a round table with four chairs and three computers on it.

“Teaching?” Alexander leaned against the counter and considered the question. “At the time I hadn’t been happy in my job at the company I’d been at. Getting my PhD offered me more work options, but I also found that I liked helping people. I guess that is what outweighs the social anxiety of teaching. And I also took up freelance consulting, so I can supplement my income there as well.”

I gaped at him and gestured to the kitchen.

“All while also building a home essentially from scratch.”

Alexander laughed, his lips twisting wryly as he did a small shrug with one shoulder .

“Kept me busy.” Turning, he went to the fridge. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Right, conversation closed. I remembered the books about divorce and grief. The man clearly had just buried himself in work to get through the last few years. I couldn’t say I blamed him. There were worse ways to deal with difficult times in your life, even if sequestering yourself on a cliff wasn’t the most socially acceptable. That being said, he hadn’t been entirely cut off from society, what with teaching and all, so I wouldn’t put him in recluse territory yet.

“Sure.”

“I have juice, wine, beer, and water.”

“Wine would be great.”

Alexander poured us both a glass of wine and then brought it over. Clinking the glass against mine, we both drank. It was a very smooth Malbec, and I appreciated the choice.

Alexander gave me that unreadable look again over the top of his glass. My skin heated. What was he thinking when he looked at me that way?

“And you?” Alexander startled me with the question, interrupting the silence that was drawing out between us again. It was as though he’d forgotten how to carry on normal conversations. Which, based on what he’d just explained about how busy he’d been with work and severe lack of socializing, tracked. “Your work? Before this?”

“Ah, yeah. The most bland job in the world. I worked retail at a discount store. I quit when I got knocked out with a water bottle.”

Alexander visibly blanched. “One of those big ones with the handles and the straws?”

“The very ones.”

“I had no idea discount stores were so violent.”

“Neither did I. Well, there had been hints of it.” I laughed as I took another sip of the wine and studied a photo on the counter of a smiling woman hugging Alexander. This must have been his mom. “People got pretty pushy over the dollar bins of wrapping paper.”

“Is that right?” Alexander gave me a disbelieving look.

“Seriously. It’s because it’s mostly a single-use product. Nobody wants to pay a lot of money for it. So they’d come to the discount store and load up, but would get pissy if someone else was there taking it.”

“I had no idea. And why were you working there if you found it so bland?”

I sighed, twisting the stem of the wine glass in my hand.

“I’d lost my job as a technical writer because I was too fanciful in my wording. My ex-boyfriend’s family owned the discount store, and it was an easy transition when I needed to pay the bills. In hindsight, a dumb one. I wasted two years of my life being bored out of my mind.”

“You’re a writer?”

“I am. Apparently not a very good one.”

“Did you want to be writing technical descriptions? ”

“No, I want to be finishing my fantasy novel.”

“So how can you say you’re not a good writer if you were using the wrong tools for the job?”

I blinked at him, surprised at how easy it was for him to state the obvious of what I should have seen a while ago. Losing my writing gig had been a blow to my ego and I’d let it poison my hopes of becoming an author someday. But the two jobs were so different that I never should have conflated them.

Insecurity was messy like that.

“I have no idea. Nobody’s ever phrased it quite like that before,” I admitted.

“Will you write now? Now that you’re in a better place that is? I’m sure the bookshop will be inspiring.”

“Or intimidating. Seeing so many published authors on the shelves can be overwhelming.”

“Or motivating.”

“True. You’re very motivational. Can I keep you around just to cheer me on every time I talk myself out of writing?”

“Of course.” Alexander said it so seriously, even though I’d been joking, and warmth sent a funny tingle through my body. This conversation was dancing too close to some of my long-buried vulnerabilities, so it was time to change the subject.

“Ah, so where’s this puffin of yours? Or were you just making that up to lure women back to your home?”

“You’re the first person I’ve had here. Plus, you invited yourself,” Alexander said, a serious note to his voice, as though he was trying to convince me that he would never invent a puffin to trick women into coming to his home. Note to self: Alexander can be quite literal.

“I know,” I said, weakly, as I mentally laughed at our mutual awkwardness. While I’d always known I had some socially inept moments, it was refreshing to meet someone who seemed to have the same.

“He’s this way. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Alexander turned to a door at the back of the kitchen and I followed him as he nudged it open and made a soft cooing noise.

“I don’t like to startle him,” Alexander said over his shoulder. “I’m hoping his wing will heal soon. In the meantime, I have him in the mudroom where it’s cool enough for the weather he’s used to, but safe from the elements.”

A large dog crate had been placed in the middle of the room, with gray plastic sides and a slotted metal gate for a door.

“I don’t like keeping him in this, but it’s bigger than the box I started with.”

“Oh my God, he’s so cute.” I gasped as the bird waddled to the door, making a clacking noise with his beak as he knocked it lightly against the wires of the cage, gnashing lightly against the metal.

“Tattie, meet Rosie.”

Tattie paused and looked up at me, cocking his head, and I grinned down at him, fluttering my fingers.

“Here, you can feed him some herring.”

“Just hand it to him through the bars?” I sat on the floor directly next to the carrier, and Alexander sat next to me, his shoulder lightly brushing mine as he handed me a container of fish.

“Aye. The wee lad loves it.”

“Aww, I feel so bad for him in there.” I plucked some fish from the container, ignoring the slimy feel on my fingers, and gently slid it through the door to an eager Tattie.

“He was worse off out there. Couldn’t swim, couldn’t fly. He wouldn’t have made it.”

“What does the vet say?”

“Something clipped his wing. Hard to say what, but in rare cases the feathers will grow back. He doesn’t seem to think this will be the case.”

“Aw, buddy.” I frowned at the puffin currently devouring the fish I gave him. “What will happen to him?”

“If he can’t fly on his own, I’ll keep him.”

“Here? In this?” I couldn’t imagine that was a great life for a puffin.

“I’m building him an outdoor play park of sorts,” Alexander admitted, and I glanced up at him, admiration growing for this man who would take time out of his busy schedule to build an entire enclosure for a puffin.

“Is that right?” Our eyes held, his face was not far from mine. “Isn’t that a lot of work?”

“If he’s going to stay here, he’ll need a proper home. He can’t live in this forever, and that’s no way to live.”

“So what will the play park be like?”

“I hope to have it combine as many natural elements as possible, like the salt water, grasses, rocky nooks where they like to burrow. But also lightly fenced to protect him from any predators.”

“And that’s it? You’ll just have a puffin named Tattie? Living in your backyard? How long do they live?”

“I think like twenty years or so.”

“That’s a huge undertaking.”

Alexander just shrugged a shoulder.

“The wee lad needed a chance.”

“Will he be lonely?” I asked, plucking more fish from the dish and passing it to an eager Tattie.

“It’s better to be alone than unhappy, don’t you think?”

I realized we were talking about much more than a puffin. I chose my words carefully as I stayed focused on the little bird who clamored for more fish.

“But if he never leaves, and never gets a chance to get out there again, how will he know if he could be happy again?”

“He doesn’t. But maybe he’s young enough to not know what he’s missing yet. Puffins mate for life, you know. He’s just old enough to mate, so he likely doesn’t have anyone missing him.”

“They mate for life?” At that, I glanced between the bird and Alexander. Would these two end up growing old together? Being each other’s stand-in mates so to speak because life had dealt them a tough blow?

“Aye. They’ll go to sea for months at a time, but somehow always return to each other.”

“The heart knows,” I whispered, my eyes catching on Alexander’s .

The moment hung, another silence where we stared into each other’s eyes, until the puffin broke it by letting out a long low call that sounded like a man chuckling at a joke.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, looking down at Tattie. “Listen to you. Who is just the cutest, best puffin in the world? That was just the most adorable sound, wasn’t it?”

Tattie seemed to agree with me, because he did it again, sidling back and forth in front of his door and preening.

“I think he’s showing off for you.”

“You’re the most handsome ‘lad’ in all the land,” I promised the wee puffin and gave him more fish. Look at me using Scottish words.

“I used to think it was easier to be alone. Easier to avoid maintaining friendships, that kind of thing,” I said. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“I am.” Alexander stood slowly, and I followed suit, realizing my time with Tattie was done. “If you’re alone, you can’t get hurt. You can protect your peace. There’s nothing wrong with a quiet life.”

There was a world of pain behind those words that was none of my business.

I had my own problems to deal with, my own healing to do and revelations to unearth. It wasn’t my job to fix this man when he seemed perfectly content with the path he’d chosen. And even if there was attraction there, I doubted that he’d act on it, and I should squash that too. I’d never been a one-night stand kind of girl, and this small village was not the ideal place to flex that unused muscle.

“Thanks for introducing me to Tattie. You’ll have to let me know if I can help with the play park. It would be fun to see him in his element.”

“I’ll do that.”

It felt like he was ready for me to leave now, and if he wasn’t used to ever having visitors, that was likely the case. “Right, I should get a move on. Thanks again for having me by.”

“Wait, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s dark and I have a big flashlight. Please. It will make me feel better if I know you get home safe.”

Peering at the darkness behind his windows, I decided to accept.

“Actually, I’ll take you up on the flashlight offer. My phone only did so much.”

“Great, let me grab it.”

I waved goodbye to Tattie, hoping I’d get to see him soon, and crossed through the kitchen and gorgeous living room where Alexander tamped the fire down. I wanted to tell him to leave the fire, to stay in his comfortable place where nobody could ever hurt him again.

Instead, I silently put my boots on and waited.

“Shall we?” Alexander appeared with a flashlight and his coat, and I smiled up at him. For as much as he said he preferred to stay in and not form connections, he’d already put himself out to help me several times now. Maybe he had a damsel in distress thing, but it was more likely this was just who he was. Sighing, I mentally rolled my eyes.

Why were the good ones always unattainable?

And then I shut that thought down, fiercely reprimanding myself. I wasn’t here for love. I was here to start a new life full of books and a new career. Nowhere in my neatly written schedule had I slotted a space for falling in love.

Maybe Alexander had the right of it. Being alone was just easier.