Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Alexander

G ood luck finding poles to sit on.

I can’t believe I actually said those words out loud. I just couldn’t help myself, the image of this lush woman wrapped around my waist making my thoughts scramble, and now I felt like an absolute arse for bringing it up.

As I mentioned before, I’m not the best in social situations. Give me computers and they made sense to me. Logical, orderly, and usually presenting problems that weren’t hard to solve.

Navigating social cues and subtle nuances? Not my top strength.

It was one of the reasons I tended toward the quiet side. Less likely for me to blurt out awkward things like suggesting the pretty new lass in town have fun finding men to sit on.

I blamed whomever she had been speaking to on the phone. Once I’d heard the words “sit on” I’d done nothing but picture Rosie in my lap, and what a deeply annoying time for my libido to come roaring back after a three-year hiatus.

Icy rain slapped my face, and I welcomed the sting of it, a mild form of punishment for thinking heated thoughts about the newcomer when I’d sworn off women after my divorce. Dramatic? Maybe. But unlike a few friends of mine who liked to bury themselves in endless rounds of dating after a breakup, I much preferred to nurse my wounds in private.

Buying the derelict cottage had been a great choice for me, giving me a project to work on where I could see measurable growth, all while pulling me away from sitting too long in front of my computer.

“Maybe Tattie would like a game of Wingspan.”

My pulse kicked up in excitement. When I wasn’t busy working on programs, I had two main passions—birding and games. Neither of which are the most glamorous hobbies, I guess. Again, see reasons why winning the dating game wasn’t likely for me.

Which I was fine with. I’d been fine with it for three years now. Divorce, well, it sucked. And even though it had been the right decision in the end, I now furiously protected the peace I’d created in my life. I’d taken a gamble on love, it had kicked me in the arse, and I was content to live life on my own. A decision that not many people understood, which was also why I tended to hang out more in nature than with people.

That was obviously reflected in my asinine comment to Rosie. Sighing, I turned toward Two Sisters, my go-to coffee shop and wee takeaway at the end of the main road in Kingsbarns. The town itself was nothing but a speck of dust on the map, blink and you’d drive through it, but I loved its remoteness all the same.

It gave me the peace and space I required. I couldn’t blame that necessity completely on Tara. After all, as they say, it took two to tango, but my pride had been battered, and it was the quiet of a tiny town that had provided some sense of solace.

“You’re so boring. Who wants to go look at birds anyway?” Tara’s jibes came back to me. She’d been more for fancy nights out on a surprise trip to Paris than she had been for quiet walks in nature.

Perhaps I just wasn’t meant to be someone’s partner.

Kingsbarns was an introvert’s dream and the history of this place helped me heal after my divorce, yet at the same time I could be down to Edinburgh in a couple of hours when I was craving city life. Which obviously, wasn’t all that often.

Streetlights shone in murky puddles that dotted the pavement, the darkness of winter afternoons making the icy rain seem that much colder, and the wind carried the hint of the sea with it. Lights glowed from windows in cottages that lined the street, and the faint strain of a Christmas song carried to me across the small cobblestone square.

I used to love Christmas. Before my ex-wife had turned it into a high-pressure competition of who could buy each other the best present. Spoiler alert—I never won.

For the last three years, I’d spent Christmas alone, even though I knew it would have upset my mum. She’d loved Christmas and would have hated how dismal the time had become for me. I’d never considered myself a highly emotional person, but losing my mum, and then being betrayed by my then wife, well, it had brought to the surface a lot of messy feelings. I’d needed time to recover from both. Interestingly, I didn’t miss my ex-wife, but I sure missed my mum.

We’d been a small family, just the two of us, for as long as I could remember. And now the familiar guilt of not honoring her favorite holiday tugged at my heart as I pushed through the door of the coffee shop.

Warmth blasted my face, along with mouthwatering scents of cinnamon, and something spicy—perhaps a curry—assaulted me and my stomach grumbled. I’d been busy all day researching how to care for a puffin, along with spending some time making sure Tattie was as comfortable as he could be with his wee wing injury. It hadn’t been until I’d been passing the bookshop that I’d thought about enrichment exercises, which is why I’d poked my head inside.

Only to find the stunning Rosie gossiping on her phone about sleeping with men. She was refreshing, like stumbling upon a fragrant garden—an oasis—in the middle of a barren landscape. A veritable landscape of dips and curves, rolling hills to be explored, and my hands had ached, actually ached, to reach out and touch her. I’d had to shove my hands in my pockets to stop the impulse, and I swear my shoulder still burned where she’d fist-bumped me.

“Alexander! Just the man we need.”

I stiffened at my name being shouted, and then took a deep breath before pasting a polite smile on my face. Turning, I found the Book Bitches, along with a few others, jammed around a table in the corner.

“Oh, hello there.” I waved at the group. Cherise nodded at me, looking a little pale, as she gripped her cup of tea with both hands. I suspected she was feeling a bit worse for wear today after her indulgence the night before. Maybe now would be a good time to bring up changing the puffin’s name that had been assigned to him against my will.

“We were just talking about you,” Esther said, nodding at an empty chair at another table. Did they think I was going to join them? I wanted to pick up my takeaway and go home.

“Have we revisited the name Tattie? Sure, it was fun last night, but you can’t possibly think I should call the puffin…” I paused as I was met by stern looks from the group.

“ Of course his name is Tattie,” Shannon reassured a tense looking Cherise. I noticed they were all wearing puffin shirts and sighed. There was no way around it. Either I broke a few grandmothers’ hearts and called the puffin Captain Kidd, or I just accepted his fate as being Tattie the puffin.

“We even put our puffin shirts on to support him today. How’s the wee lad doing?” Esther asked, again pointing toward a chair. Resigning myself to a prolonged visit, I dragged a chair over to the table.

“Can I get you a cuppa?” One of the Two Sisters materialized by my shoulder.

“Chai, please.”

“Coming up.”

“The wee lad is doing fine. He’s eating and getting acquainted with his spot. Hoping his wing heals up. I’m trying to befriend him but also not get him so used to people that he won’t go out into the wild if he heals well.”

“Sure that’s a tough balance, isn’t it then? We’ll have to come see him.” Shannon beamed at me, and I blinked at her as terror gripped my heart. Somehow I knew once I let these women invade my sanctuary, they’d never stop coming around.

“Um, best not to excite him too much for now. His wing is in a really delicate place.”

“Mm-hmm.” Esther peered at me like she could read every one of my thoughts. “Well, keep us updated on the wee lad. In the meantime, we were just talking about you.”

“So you mentioned.” I accepted the cup of chai with a brief smile of thanks and put it on the table to cool. Trepidation filled me. If I was on the Book Bitches’ radar, that could mean anything really.

“The Winter Windows competition is starting. Next week. And we are not prepared.” Esther gave me a look like not only should I know what she was talking about, but I also was meant to do something about this.

“Well, good luck with it all.” I picked up my tea and blew on the top, hoping to cool it down faster so I could be on my way.

“That’s where you come in. We need someone to program the lights. If we’re going to go big this year and beat St. Andrews, well, it has to be something fantastic. And you’re a programmer, so you’ll be just the lad to help us out.”

“Um.” I choked on my sip of tea and put it back on the table, coughing. Esther slammed me on the back, and my eyes widened. The woman had some power to her. “What’s the Winter Windows competition?”

“Seriously?” Shannon leaned forward, surprise on her face. “How could you not know what this is?”

Because I moved here three years ago and am basically a hermit?

“All the bookstores in the region compete for the best windows in the month of December. There’s judging each weekend leading up to Christmas. Four weekends of judging. St. Andrews always ends up winning and we want to break that streak.”

“What do you win?”

“Money for a charity of your choice.” Esther waved that away, the light of battle in her eyes. “It’s not about the money. It’s about the bragging rights. Highland Hearts has come in second or third place for years now, and we know that we can win with some added flavor.”

“And I’m the added flavor?” Despite myself, I was amused.

“Yes. Your technical capabilities, plus Rosie’s fresh outlook, will bring us over the finish line.”

“Have you asked Rosie about this?”

“We’re getting there.” Cherise glared at me. Right. Don’t upset Cherise seemed to be the name of the game this week.

“Ladies, what you need is an electrician. Not a programmer.” Slapping my hands on my legs in the universal sign that I was done with the conversation, I made to stand.

“Nope, we need a programmer. Look at this.” Esther pulled out her phone and clicked on the TikTok app, and then pressed play on a video. Leaning in, I watched as a house, positively drenched in lighting, flashed in tune to a rock version of Jingle Bells . “See? This is what we need. Next level.”

“That’s an entire house decorated in lights. I thought this was windows only.”

Esther glared at me.

“It’s just the concept, Alexander. Get with it.”

“Apologies.” I barely restrained a grin.

“So, you’ll need to come up with a program that can do something like this once we decide on a theme.”

“Um.” I scratched my jaw as I thought about it. I likely could figure this out easily enough, but it would be putting me right in the path of temptation. In other words, one very sexy bookseller that I had no right thinking dirty thoughts about. “December is days away. Why didn’t you talk to Rosie about it?”

“We are. Tomorrow. We felt she needed a wee break after we were there all day today,” Shannon said, taking a bite of her biscuit. At the sight of food, my stomach grumbled, and I stood up before I got sucked into further conversation.

“I really need to run. Let me know if Rosie decides to join this competition. If she needs the help, I can see what I can come up with.” I couldn’t even believe the words leaving my mouth. Not only was I volunteering to join the competition, but I was also pulling myself out of my peaceful hermit-ville to work on a project with the Book Bitches.

The women clapped in excitement.

“You’re our hero,” Esther declared. And damn it, that felt good to hear. Even if it meant having to actively avoid conversations about my non-existent dating life with this group of women, I was still happy to help.

“Have a good night, ladies.” My takeaway bag was waiting on the counter and my puffin was waiting for his dinner.

“Tell Tattie we send our love.”

I grimaced and then sighed. At some point I just had to accept this. I nodded over my shoulder.

“Aye, will do.”