Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I was painfully aware of the locals watching my every move, but I couldn’t help but stare at Quinn as he passed the window of the bookstore. He was so handsome, an ache flared in my chest.
“Taran.”
Reluctantly, I looked up to find Mrs. Gilchrist, the antiques shop owner, at the back of my chair with a to-go cup in hand. “Mrs. Gilchrist, hello.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt your tête-a-tête with our dashing builder.” She paused as if waiting to see if I’d provide information about the interlude.
Instead, I just stared up at her, almost enjoying the awkward silence.
Mrs. Gilchrist’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “Ah, yes. Anyway, I just wondered how the selling of your mother’s antiques was coming along? Did everything go well with Mr. White?”
Mr. White was a creepy toad whose number I had to block from my phone after he asked me out multiple times despite thinking I was already in a relationship. Thank you for inviting such a turd into my life.
“It was fine. But I’m not selling Mum’s items anymore. I’m donating them.”
“Oh.” Her eyebrows shot upward. “I remember seeing some desirable things in among her possessions.”
“Yes, there are a few lovely items. We’ll keep those in the family. The rest will be donated.”
Her gaze drifted away and she bit her lip in thought.
“Is that all, Mrs. Gilchrist?” I stood to return to work.
“Yes, yes.” She waved a hand before walking slowly, almost absentmindedly, out of the store.
I returned to my spot behind the barista counter and nudged Ewan as he rang up a customer’s coffee and paperback. “Still not talking to me, my darling Ewan?”
He gave me a side-eye and sighed. “It would be petty of me to hold a grudge after that beast called you a whore in front of your delicious ex-boyfriend.”
Despite myself, my lips twitched with amusement. “Awfully petty,” I agreed.
Ewan struggled to hold back a laugh as he wrapped an arm around me to give me a squeeze. “You do keep things interesting around here, Taran.”
The customer, a tourist, chuckled at our exchange, and I grinned at my manager. “Why are you not fired?”
“Because you can’t run this place without me.” Ewan took the customer’s payment. “Now, please do tell me what was happening over there with McCutie.”
“McCutie?” I wrinkled my nose. “Quinn is many things, but cute isn’t one of them.”
“So, what would you replace it with? McHot? McSexy?” He lowered his voice, cupping a hand around his mouth, “McDo Me?”
I shoved him playfully. “McGo Away.”
“You are in serious denial, Taran Macbeth. When a man like that looks at a woman the way he looks at you … it’s only a matter of time.”
My heart rate picked up. “Before I what? Get a restraining order?”
“Sweetie, you are so far down the river of denial, you’re in freaking Egypt.”
“Your wit is astounding.” I kissed Ewan on the cheek. “But you’re so far off the truth, Sherlock Holmes would mock you endlessly.”
He gave me a knowing wee smirk that unsettled me.
It was bad enough trying to navigate these uncertain waters with Quinn, but the pressure of having the entire population of Leth Sholas discussing our interactions was too much. I needed space. Some quiet. To think.
“Can you hold down the fort? I promised London I’d help her with something today.”
Ewan was unperturbed by the abrupt subject change. “Sure, sure. I’ll call if we need you.”
I couldn’t escape Pages & Perks fast enough and hurried off Main Street before anyone could stop me from finding a quiet place to be alone with my chaos of emotions.
19. Taran
Trying to walk home from Pages & Perks had been a feat this week. The streets of Leth Sholas bustled with tourists, and it felt more than a wee bit suffocating. My store was packed to the rafters, and we were selling a ton of coffee and books, which was wonderful, but my goodness, I hadn’t had a chance to breathe.
London had offered to stay in the manager’s suite with Tierney at the B and B this week so she could be there at the crack of dawn to get breakfast started. The place was fully booked for the Highland Games. Everywhere was. The weather gods had smiled down on us, depending on your outlook. It had been a humid few days, making some of the physical events a bit more taxing for the competitors. Or so I’d heard. Between the paperwork I needed to fill out for the charity and the many grants I was applying for, plus running Pages & Perks, I hadn’t had a chance to attend the games.
Cammie made me promise we’d go tomorrow, so I was trying to ensure my staff could handle a day without me by finishing all the necessary admin stuff. Paisley was now a member of our team, so that helped alleviate some of the workload in the afternoons, even though she was still training.