Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Rosie

B y the time I’d ushered the Book Bitches out of the shop, declining their invitation to the pub because, honestly, I just needed some silence, my energy was waning. However, I couldn’t complain. Not in the slightest. The Book Bitches had blown through my list at a terrifying speed, and I had to admit, their help had been invaluable.

Half the time I hadn’t even needed to speak. They’d chattered in the background, and despite struggling to understand what they were saying given their brogue, I managed to absorb some information both about the village and my great-aunt Moira. Clearly, Outlander slowed down the Scottish speaking so the non-Scots could actually understand them. I must tell Jessica that.

Turns out that my great-aunt had been eccentric—a label I’d secretly coveted. How can I lean into that more?

Certainly the bookshop reflected an eccentric personality. Even though the shop had been dusted and polished until she shone, there still wasn’t much logic to…well, anything really. At best I could say, the books seemed to be separated by genre, but they weren’t in alphabetical order by author or title name that I could discern. At one point, I’d hoped they were shelved by color when I found six pink books in a row, but nope, that had been an anomaly. Esther had suggested that Moira had thought bookshops should be a discovery for people. An adventure. But the lack of organization made my skin itch a bit and I vowed to at least categorize the books by author name and keep them separated by genre.

Still, I had boxes and boxes of odds and ends to go through on top of stock that needed pricing, piles of secondhand books, and at least ten bins of holiday decorations. I was told Moira had gained notoriety for her decorating prowess, and many people made a stop on holidays—any holiday, it seemed—just to see what she’d come up with. That part gave me pause, since I’d never quite had a hand for decorating, but I hoped I’d find inspiration in the copious amounts of bins in the stockroom.

I hoped people would like me.

The thought struck me as I bent beneath the table and pulled out another box, and I leaned back on my heels in surprise.

I hadn’t much thought about being liked back home. Madison was a fairly big city full of students and businesspeople, and it was easy to fade into the background without needing or wanting to make an impression on anyone. But here? Where it was clear the community was tight-knit? Yeah, I wanted to be liked. Even if I wasn’t ready to go to the pub or start dating, I wanted Highland Hearts to be a welcoming spot for everyone where I was in control of the atmosphere.

And I couldn’t wait for discussions with customers about literally anything other than plastic tableware. For that to happen, my patrons needed to like me. No pressure or anything, Rosie.

Humming, pleased I didn’t have to unbox a new shipment of Live Laugh Love faux wooden signs, I bent to the box again.

“Ow!”

The Celtic heart book, which had been perched on the front table, smacked me on the back of the head before it fell to the floor. I’d been meaning to look at it all day today, but I’d gotten caught up in ledgers and business paperwork. Thank God for good solicitors, because William Stuart was a blessing in disguise. In the top ledger, he had noted the up-to-date bank balance, as well as the information for the bank accounts, utilities, and internet services. The benefit of living in a small town? One phone call and I’d arranged a quick meeting at the local bank to verify I was the new owner of Highland Hearts and I’d been cleared for business. The credit card machine still worked, internet was back up and running, and my Spotify playlist now played Lumineers through the small speakers tucked on a shelf behind the table.

The bells over the door jangled and I winced, annoyed that I hadn’t locked up after the Book Bitches had left. Rubbing the back of my head, I pasted my customer service smile on.

“Hello?” A woman in her mid-fifties or so with a tense expression and a whisper of faded laugh lines at her eyes glanced around the shop. She wore a serviceable black canvas coat, jeans, and Wellies. She took a step forward, and then back, and then forward again before firmly shutting the door behind her against the rain that pummeled the side of the shop. Interesting . She seemed nervous.

“Hi, sorry, I was just cleaning out from under the table.” I stood up.

“Oh, there you are. When I heard you were open again, I just had to make a stop here before I lost my nerve. I’d been working myself up to this for months now, you ken?”

I tilted my head at her, unsure how to respond. She’d been nervous to visit a bookshop? Pursing my lips, I thought it over. Perhaps she experienced some form of extreme social anxiety? I’d seen it with several people in my literature program in college. Most had been happier buried in a book than speaking to actual humans, and honestly, I couldn’t say that I blamed them at times. I supposed it would be natural for some customers here to be more on the timid side. Determined to be a welcoming environment for anyone who stepped over my threshold, even if I wasn’t yet open, I waved her closer.

“Well, I’m not technically open yet. I just arrived last night and I’m getting the lay of the land myself. Is there something in particular that I can help you with?”

“Aye. There is.” The woman stepped forward until she stood at the table and then dug a hand in her coat pocket. Pulling out a twenty-pound note, she slid it across the table to me. “I’d like to order the Highland Hearts Special.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” It felt like I was in a state of constant confusion today, and people just kept throwing me curveballs.

The woman looked around the shop and lowered her voice, even though nobody else was there.

“The Highland Hearts Special.”

“Is that a…book?” Had the shop published its own book that I didn’t know about?

“It’s…it’s…” The woman’s hands fluttered in front of her as she tried to come up with an explanation. When a sheen of tears hit her eyes, I stepped forward and put a hand on her arm.

“Hey, hey, it’s just fine. Everything’s just fine. I’m sorry that I don’t know what that is, but truly, I will figure it out. I’ll find what you need. If you can just give me your contact information? I’m sorry that I don’t know off the top of my head what this is, but I have a lot to learn. And look”—I gestured to the stack of leather-bound notebooks on the table—“I have loads of information and instructions to read through. I’m sure once I get through it, I’ll be able to help.”

“You’re certain?” The woman swallowed.

“Of course. Absolutely.” I had no idea what I was promising, but I wasn’t going to let this poor woman go out into the rain in tears. Should I offer her tea? That seemed like a polite thing to do.

“Can I put a tea on for you? Maybe I can find what you’re looking for while you have a cup?”

“Och, I couldn’t possibly stay. It’s already taken so much to come here. Lovely shop, though. I’m glad you’re opening it back up. I, well, honestly, it’s just been right difficult to get myself here and, well. Right. I should just go.” The woman turned.

“Wait, please. Let me get your information first.” I grabbed the first notebook I could find and a pen and opened it.

“Right, it’s um, Edina. And I’m meant to tell you my favorite book is The Housemaid . By Frieda McFadden. I’m told you’ll need that information.”

“I do? Is that the book you’re looking for?” I peered around the shop. While it was much cleaner than it had been this morning, the books were still not grouped by genre.

“No. I want the Highland Hearts Special.” Edina gave me a long look, as though she was telling me something else entirely, and then gave a brisk nod before scurrying from the shop. Her twenty-pound note was still on the table. Picking it up, I ran it through my fingers.

I couldn’t quite count this as my first sale when I wasn’t even sure what I’d sold. Or what that exchange had been all about. Tapping the bill against my finger, I paced back and forth in front of the table. What was I missing here? What did The Housemaid have to do with Highland Hearts aside from we were a bookshop? Pressing my lips together, I dug in a small chest of drawers behind the table and found a paperclip. Clipping the money to the page of the notebook with Edina’s information on it, I sat down and tapped the pen against my lips.

That had been odd.

My phone rang and I answered, grinning at Jessica’s face.

“You’re looking better today. See the hottie again?”

“Nope, I haven’t even left the shop yet.” I mimicked shuddering. “It’s scary out there.”

“If you don’t get out and track that hottie down, I’m going to fly over and drag his ass to your shop and force him to read you Armentrout by candlelight.”

I fanned my face. “You’re getting me all hot and bothered.”

“I’ll give you a pass since it’s your first day, but I expect you to be dating by Christmas.”

“This is the worst time of year to start dating someone.” I stood up and walked around the shop, admiring a small glass-blown statue of a fairy that was perched on the corner of one shelf. That was one thing I liked about this shop. Every time I looked somewhere I discovered something new. And I hadn’t even gotten to cataloging the book selection yet .

“What? Are you insane? This is the most romantic time of the year,” Jessica gushed as she walked down the street, cars honking behind her. “Hot cocoa while the snow falls outside, kisses under mistletoe, cozying up in the cold. I mean, how could it not be romantic?”

“Meeting new people around family holiday time puts a ridiculous amount of pressure on a new relationship, not to mention having to buy a gift for someone you’ve just met. No, it’s way too intense,” I argued.

If I was honest, I wanted to stand on my own two feet and…reinvent myself. I didn’t want bland anymore. This was such a huge opportunity to let go of past unhelpful habits, seeking out the “safe” man to avoid deep connections. And I didn’t need a man to fulfill any fantasies. Books did that already. So, dating was out. Because new Rosie was in.

“Please, dating is not for the weak, Rosie. You need to gird your loins and whatnot. Jump right into the fray. Kiss men left and right. Break hearts. Sample the local flavor. Have at it. Nobody knows you there, so it’s the perfect chance to play as much as you want.”

“That sounds terrifying.” I gulped. “You are out of your damn mind if you think I’m going to ride a train of men through this tiny town. I don’t even know anyone yet. The last thing I want to do is step on any toes.”

“You wouldn’t be stepping on toes, you’d be sitting on poles.”

A throat cleared and I jolted. Whirling, my mouth dropped open to see the sexy sidewalk man standing in front of me, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“Um—”

“Just think about how hot they’d be in bed…with that Scottish accent?” Jessica continued, clearly not looking at my expression on the screen. Wordlessly, I flipped the camera and she stuttered to a stop as the man’s image filled the screen. A squeal filled the air. “Is that the hottie you shoulder-kissed?”

“Have you forgotten how phones work? He can hear you!” I hissed before unceremoniously ending the call before she embarrassed me further.

“Right. Can we pretend you heard none of that?” I blinked at the man hopefully. Damn it. He was just as sexy today as he’d been yesterday, even though I’d kind of hoped I’d hallucinated the entire meeting due to lack of sleep and stress.

“Not likely, no.” But he flashed a grin to lighten his words, and I took a soft inhale. The smile lit up his entire face, transforming it from somewhat surly to warm and welcoming. Smile lines crinkled at the corner of his brilliant blue eyes, and I reached up to pat my hair, wondering if I was a mess after cleaning all day. “But I promise to keep your shoulder kink quiet.”

“It’s not a—” I barely resisted stomping my foot. “Apologies, sir , for my extreme awkwardness yesterday. I blame stress and jet lag.”

“It’s Alexander, but you can call me sir if you’d like.”

Of course he’d have a sexy name too.

“Rosie,” I said, weakly, and gestured to the shop. “We’re closed.” I could hear Jessica screaming in my head to shut up and invite him in for a look. Or a quick tumble .

“I wasn’t sure you’d be up and running yet, but I saw someone leave the shop, so I took a chance.” Alexander rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, and I took a moment to ogle while he glanced around the room.

Broad shoulders? Check .

Sharp jawline with just enough scruff to be sexy? Check .

Moody blue eyes? Check .

Thick dark hair that I wanted to run my hands through? Check.

“Is…” My voice cracked and I cleared my throat. “Is there anything that I can help you with?”

“Puffins.”

“Um, hmmm.” I pressed my lips together. It wasn’t in my customer service nature to dismiss something a customer was looking for. “I can’t say that I’ve yet spied a puffin section, but there doesn’t really seem to be actual sections so I can’t properly respond to that. Yet. Yet . I will be able to soon. I promise.”

A hint of amusement flashed in Alexander’s eyes.

“No, Moira wasn’t much for organization, that’s the truth of it.”

“Are you the one that rescued Tattie then?” Curiosity won out, even though I really just wanted the shop to myself for a while so I could catch my breath and recalibrate to this new life that I’d started. And I was so tired. I’m not even sure what time it was here, let alone what time my body clock thought it was.

Alexander winced .

“Bloody hell. I can’t believe they named him that. You heard already?”

“The Book Bitches visited the shop today.”

A visible shudder ran across Alexander’s shoulders. “Terrifying women.”

Delighted that I hadn’t been the only one who’d thought that, I fist-bumped his shoulder.

“Yes, thank you. And yet I also kind of love them.”

Alexander stared down at where I’d bumped his, admittedly very muscular, shoulder and my stomach dropped.

First I’d kissed his shoulder.

Now I’d fist-bumped it like we were long-time friends.

Ever heard of personal space, Rosie?

My cheeks pinkened and I stepped back, clearing my throat.

“Anywho. Puffins. I’ll see what I can find.”

“I’m looking specifically for enrichment exercises for an injured puffin.”

“Maybe Tattie would like a game of Wingspan.” I grinned at him, my inner board game geek delighted with my joke, since Wingspan was a bird-centered board game and had puffins in it, but he just blinked at me. “Um, the board game?”

“You think my injured puffin would like to play a board game?”

“No, I …” I lifted my hands in the air. “It was a joke.”

“Oh.” This time it was Alexander’s turn to look embarrassed. “Sometimes I miss those. ”

“It’s okay. I mean … it was a niche joke. Easy to miss,” I said, rushing to reassure him.

An awkward silence fell between us, and my brain whirled at ways to fill it. For some reason, I didn’t want him to go, and at the same time, I wanted to be alone in my shop to try and process all these emotions swirling inside me from making such a huge change.

“Um, so I can also look if I can order something in for you?” I rounded the table and opened the ancient laptop that had come with the store and grimaced as it beeped angrily at me. Yes, I know computers are not sentient, but I heard anger every time I’d tried to get this damn thing up and running. “Never mind. Stupid computer.”

“You’re having computer problems?” Alexander’s tone lit up like I’d just told him he’d won the lottery. I nodded, raising an eyebrow at the change in his demeanor, and turned the laptop to face him.

“Ah, cheeky bastard. I see what you’re on about.” I stared at him as he bent to the laptop, mumbling to himself, his fingers flying rapidly over the keys. Beeps sounded and Alexander grimaced. “Och, it’s giving me a wee battle.”

More beeps rang out, and I watched, entranced, at Alexander’s steadfast focus on the computer.

What would it be like to have him look at me with that level of focus?

Heat flushed through my body, and I turned away, silently rebuking myself. I could not fall for the first tall, dark, and handsome man that walked through my door. No matter what Jessica said, I was on a sabbatical from men. My choices simply couldn’t be trusted. Rosie 2.0 was here.

“Listen, it’s tied itself up.”

“Tied up?” I repeated, my thoughts short-circuiting as they went down a decidedly different route than what he was speaking about.

“The computer?” Alexander gestured to the laptop, and I smiled brightly at him.

“Oh, right. Yeah, I have no idea how to fix it.”

“It’s a wee beastie, that’s for sure. I know the programming on this one, but I need to check a few things. I’ll be back to work on this sometime this week.” Alexander stood and strode to the door.

“Wait … you’re going to work on my computer?”

“Aye. It’s what I do.” Alexander opened the door and paused in the doorway. A brisk wind entered the shop, carrying the scent of rain. “Right. I’m off. Good luck finding poles to sit on.”

“Damn it.” I banged my head against the table as he promptly closed the door, the gentle tinkle of bells seeming to laugh at my dismay.

I was never going to be able to show my face in this town.