“Ha! Really? Are you going to make a pregnant woman scoot down there?”
I groaned and covered my head with a limp European pillow.
She tapped her foot. “In my delicate condition?”
I didn’t respond.
“At my age?”
I let out a, “Pfft.”
“With this amount of morning sickness...”
I sniggered and sat up. “Okay, okay. Are you really suffering from morning sickness?”
“No, but get up anyway, and tell me what’s making you drowsy as a cat in sunshine.”
I dragged myself up and was trying to pat my hair back into submission when Missy gave me the evil eye and shrieked, “You are love-struck! I knew it!”
“I am not!” I folded my arms across my chest. “And what makes you say that?”
“You’re all sparkly-eyed, and sheepish. You’re flushed red like a rose. He called, didn’t he?”
“Who?”
Her eyes lit up. “He did!”
I fell floppily into her arms for a quick hug. “If you mean Ridge, yes, he did. He sent me a book about New York, and a little note, so I guess he was following up on that.”
We strolled near the bay window of the bookshop where a small oak table stood, the only space that wasn’t covered with dusty books.
Missy sat on a chair and leaned forward. She cupped her face as if she was rapt. “And...”
“Well, he said this kind of weird thing about being snuggled in the back with a book in one hand...”
“How sweet!” she interrupted.
“And me in the other.”
Missy whooped so loud people on the street stopped to look. I waved at them, and watched them walk by before turning back to Missy.
“He likes you!” she said.
“Yep, me, a quiet little bookworm from smallsville,” I said, the sarcasm in my voice evident.
She clucked her tongue. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, when it’s actually the opposite. What’s not to love?”
“True, I am the whole package. Beauty, brawn, brains.”
She slapped my arm playfully. “Brawn? You’re so skinny you need to run around the shower to get wet!”
I shrugged. “There’s a lot of muscle underneath this scrawny frame.”
“You’re lithe. Not scrawny. Now—” she rubbed her hands together “—let’s talk about what you’re going to wear on Friday night...”
* * *
IF I DIDN’T know better I’d say I was about to be struck down by some kind of killer plague. I was lethargic, and restless, and found sleep at nighttime a suddenly impossible feat. I’d spent the better part of the week double blinking and stretching to try and keep my heavy-lidded eyes open.
However today I felt a strange sense of buoyancy. Could it be because it was Friday, and I was going to taste some of Lil’s delectable food? Upon reflection, it was definitely about the food. There was simply no other reason for my sudden euphoria.
After a busy few hours, packing orders for the online store, I pulled the shop door shut, and flicked the sign to Closed. My favorite part of the day was when the noise of the street was blocked out and I was alone in the quiet. The sun was sinking, casting an eerie glow through the windows, landing on the stacks of books like fairy dust. I imagined the books exhaling, stretching their bindings, as they relaxed, not on show anymore. And once I left for the night, I pictured them moving around the shop, their pages fluttering, as if they’d come to life. Until morning, where I’d walk in and find them not quite where I’d left them the previous night.
Batty, that was what Missy said I was.
I ran my hand along a stack of books and watched dust motes float to the ground. The tomes sat silently while I wandered around searching for a novel for the weekend. I came upon a stack of vintage magazines and flipped through them. One of them was about forties-style weddings so I put it in my backpack for Lil. Finally, as though it were calling to me the whole time, I found a book that looked just right. Switching off the lamps, I paused at the door, glancing at the books, just in case today was the day I’d catch them moving, before smiling ruefully and heading to my car.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“WHERE ARE YOU?” Missy screeched over the phone.
Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I sighed. “I’m just about to leave, but my hair is sticking up all over the place.” I was a “set and forget” type of hair girl. Usually it fell in a straight line, and that was good enough for me, but somehow after Missy’s extensive hairstyling I’d ruined it.
“What? You didn’t wash it, did you?”
Oh, whoops. “It smelled kind of dusty from a little cleanup I had at work.”
She groaned. “Sarah, you were supposed to leave it be. That’s why I put all those products in it, so you wouldn’t have to!”
I ruffled my hair, which Missy had cut shorter at the back, making me flinch when cold air hit my naked neck. “I’ll wear a hat.”
She huffed. “You most certainly will not. You just hurry up and get here, and I’ll fix it as best I can.” She lowered her voice, and muttered, “Ridge is here already, and one of the Mary-Jos is flirting up a storm with him.”
I laughed. “Sounds like he’ll have his hands full, then.” The three Mary-Jos, cousins, were experts on the art of flirting.
“Well, they’re about to leave, anyway. But just hurry up!”
“I’m leaving right now, Missy Bossy Boots.”
She guffawed. “Missy Bossy Boots, oh, that takes me back to school. See you in five.”
* * *
“GEEZ, SARAH, did you stick your finger in a power socket?” Missy said as she combed her fingers through my hair.
“I tried to tussle it, like you said.”
“Tousle, like this.” She demonstrated a slight wiggle of her hands through her hair. “Not tussle like this.” She mimicked a tug-of-war.
“Right.” I nodded. “I can see the confusion there.” Ah, the foibles of the English language.
She pulled out a clip of bobby pins and went to work securing my hair. “There, that’ll have to do. Your gorgeous face makes up for it anyway. You’re like a little French ingénue, with your rosebud mouth and big innocent eyes.”
“Wow, poetic, Missy. Thank you.”
She took my hand and pulled me inside as though we were escaping a fire.
Lil’s cottage was similar to the Gingerbread Café in that it was cozy, and always smelled as if something delicious was being cooked.
Missy marched through the small entrance, and into the kitchen, dragging me like a naughty child.
“You’re here!” CeeCee bellowed, enveloping me in a hug. With the breath squashed out of me, I muffled into her shoulder, gasping until she loosened her grip. Lil came over and gave me a gentler hug and a peck on the cheek.
Catching my breath, I said, “I have gifts.” And groped in my bag for the bridal magazines and handed them to Lil.
She flicked through the crinkled pages, and sighed softly. “Thank you, Sarah. These must be the nicest wedding dresses I’ve ever seen. I’ve got goose bumps just looking at them.”
Missy piped up, “That style would suit you to a T, Lil. That understated elegance...”
“Maybe it’s time to start looking for dresses,” Lil said. “Any takers?”
I looked quickly at Missy, expecting her to jump up and down with joy; instead her lips twitched in an effort to keep her features neutral. “I could possibly help,” she drawled. And then continued: “Oh, I can’t be that person!” She whooped loudly, startling us, and her words poured out of her mouth in a rush. “I’ve got lots of ideas, and I know of these great shops, but we can also get it tailor-made—Bessie has the most gorgeous silk, not that I’ve asked her or anything, I just happened to wander in there one day.”
&
nbsp; Bessie ran a little haberdashery shop in Ashford and tailor-made clothing by order.
Lil hugged Missy, and said, “Oh, you just happened to walk in?”
Missy replied, “It was like the silk beckoned me, and I need to know what kind of dress you’re wearing so I can match the hairstyle.”
Lil wiggled her eyebrows like a slapstick comedian, taking nothing seriously, and said in a low voice, “Sounds like we’ve got some serious shopping to do.”
We giggled at her play-acting. Lil was a sweet soul. The idea of a wedding would flummox most people but she was having fun contemplating what kind of style they’d like and how to make it magical. Simplicity was key, and the forties style was glamorous yet understated, a look that would suit Lil, a non-makeup wearer, or hair fluffer, perfectly. I loved that Lil was the opposite of highly strung, and I knew there would be no Bride-zilla moments leading up to the wedding.
“Anyway,” Lil said. “Let’s get back to Sarah for a minute.”
To avoid any conversation about the highly illogical setup I rummaged through my bag for more gifts. “Cee, I have a bag of bodice rippers for you.”
“Thank the Lord, I was gettin’ low.” She took the paper bag full of secondhand books, and peered in. “Historical—what you tryin’ to say?” She winked, and kissed me on the cheek.
Missy craned her neck and looked into my bag. “And?”
“I nearly forgot,” I said, delving in one last time. “For you, Missy, fashion magazines.” I had a whole bunch of baby magazines too, but couldn’t give them to her until she’d shared her good news with the girls.
“You’re always spoiling us. Now,” Missy said, rubbing her hands together. I knew right away she had something up her sleeve. No doubt to do with me and Ridge. “Let’s go out back. Everyone’s on the porch.”
The trio looked at me for a reaction and it was all I could do to control my snort laugh. “Girls, you couldn’t be any more obvious!”
Lil frowned. “But we acted this out before you got here.”
I arched my eyebrow as the snort eventually escaped. “Acted what out?”
Lil laughed into her tea towel until her shoulders shook, causing Missy and CeeCee to join in. Once everyone had composed themselves Lil said, “Well, it does sound kinda dumb now, but we set the boys up outside, and planned how we’d go about casually walking you out there like it was just another night...”
“It is just another night.”
CeeCee clucked her tongue. “You ain’t seen the way that man is dressed. Or how he smells. What is that smell? It’s like heaven itself. He got this little hair flick thing he doin’ and it’s mighty distractin’ even for an old woman like me.”
“That’s it, Cee,” I said. “It’s back to nonfiction for you. Now, ladies, if you could try to pretend you haven’t set me up that’d be great. So forget how you acted it out because your expressions give you away.”
Missy grabbed my arm, and led me to the back door. She whispered loud enough for Lil and CeeCee to hear, “It was their idea.” Prompting them to hiss back all kinds of blame leveled at Missy, who waved them off and tried to stop the giggles that escaped her. “Stop it, you two,” she hissed. “Now let’s do this just how we planned it.”
“Excuse me, am I invisible here?” I whispered. “Let’s just try and pretend we’re normal, just for one night.”
Lil stopped, and doubled over laughing. “Wait, wait,” she said between breaths.
Missy said, “You heard Sarah. Pretend we’re normal, and this is any other night. Think of your taxes or something, if that helps.”
It was CeeCee’s turn to start hawing. “I’m too old for this carry-on,” she said, laughing.
There was no way the guys outside couldn’t hear us. We were loud enough to wake the dead.
“Right,” Missy said, pulling down the hem of her saffron-colored miniskirt. “It’s go time.”
I walked out into the cool spring night, smiling because of my friends and their good intentions—until I locked eyes with the man mountain that was aptly named Ridge. Oh, good God, he was leaning against the banister with one arm up high holding the capping on the porch, and, sweet Jesus, his fitted cotton shirt lifted with his stretch, exposing the man crease. Yes, it was everything I expected it to be. I was caught short, not wanting to stare at it but unable to drag my gaze away.
“Oops, sorry,” Lil said, pushing me square in the back. With one quick wobble on my heels, I went flying. With a silent cry of yes-s-s, I fell into the very man crease I vowed not to stare at. My cheek was pressed firmly against said crease, my heart stopped, and I moaned softly, before arguing with myself, Do not lick the man crease—you do not need to taste it.
But...
Before I could decide if accidentally licking him would be obvious, Ridge pulled me into his arms and steadied me.
I turned to glare at Lil, all the while feeling slightly electrified being so close to Ridge. And the crease. I was leaning on him as a surfer would his board. And because it was an accident, I didn’t hurry away. After all, I was still deciding if I’d been hurt in the fall.
Lil smiled, and shrugged. “Sorry, Sarah. Must have been those heels of yours. The deck is a little uneven.”
The girls giggled into their hands, and it became clear just exactly what they’d acted out.
“Are you okay?” Ridge asked, staring deeply into my eyes.
Please don’t say something inane. “Fine. Just dandy.” Dandy? Where was I getting this vocabulary from? I extracted myself from his clutches, albeit slowly, and smoothed down my hair. Do not cough. Do not whistle.
“You look great,” he said, tilting his head, giving me the hot-guy appraisal. He’d certainly mastered the book-boyfriend mannerisms.
I blushed, hoping he wouldn’t notice, hoping instead I just looked as if I had a healthy glow or something. “So,” I said, “what brings you back to Ashford? Quite a hike for you.” Smooth, Sarah.
Lil ambled over and handed us each a glass of wine. I prayed to the wine gods to make their magic work a little quicker, so I’d feel more comfortable in Ridge’s hulking presence.
“You, Sarah. You bring me back here.”
Holy moly! Was this a dream? I chugged back a great gulp of wine and had to look away when it threatened to come out of my nose. Swallowing the mouthful finally, I said, “I don’t want to be in your article, remember?”
Without me realizing it, the others had gone inside leaving only Ridge and me on the deck. Oh, they were cunning with their methods.
“The article is all but done, Sarah. I’ll finish it off in the next few weeks, and it’ll be published in July sometime.”
Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t just here for the article. Call me cynical, but for some reason I couldn’t quite shake the fact Ridge was a reporter, and one who’d stumbled upon Ashford and found it newsworthy. It didn’t add up, but maybe I was reading too much into it.
He continued: “So rest assured I’m not here to grill you.”
“I see.” Why did words fail me in times of need?
“Can I ask you on a proper date, Sarah? A walk through the woods, and a picnic tomorrow?”
A date! If I stopped second-guessing everything, I had to admit, the attraction between us seemed to sizzle, and, as whimsical and reserved as I might come across, even I couldn’t deny there was something magical in the air. The way his hands hovered, when he stared into my eyes, as if he wanted to hold me. It was just that Ridge was all practiced charm, and too smooth. How did I know that he didn’t treat all women this very same way?
I knew my voice would come out like a choked sob in my nervousness, so I took some time pretending to consider the offer, by scratching my chin, and looking, I hoped, contemplative. Or perhaps like a science professor. That was attractive, right?
Stalling for time, I said, “You’re stay
ing in Ashford tonight?”
He nodded. “At that little B-and-B just outside of town. Pretty picket fences, lots of lace, and floral-covered everything, you know the one?”
I laughed, imagining Ridge ensconced at Begonia Bed-and-Breakfast. To put it politely, the B-and-B was stuck in a time warp. Rose, the owner, was everything you could imagine her to be: seventy, smiley, a really bad cook, and immensely lovable. “Yes, cute place.”
“So?” he pushed, arching his eyebrows like a man-model. Do not start picturing him in Y-fronts. White Y-fronts, with one finger resting behind the fabric, with the sun behind him in an empty room with wood floors...
I did the I’ve-just-run-out-of-the-sea shake to push the semi-naked vision away. “I’ll think about it.” I managed to sound casual, though my heart was racing, and my hands shaking. It had been years since I dated, except for the silent dinner with Billie; there had been no one who had interested me. Ashford wasn’t exactly teeming with men. As dramatic as it sounded, I just felt like a fool when it came to love; when you were so far gone with someone, and you couldn’t switch it off like a tap, then how could you protect yourself? It was easier to live vicariously through books.
“Okay, I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
I took a deep breath in, turning away in case my nostrils flared like a dragon. I could do this. One date. Just to prove he wasn’t the right guy for me. One date.
He ran a finger along my arm, and I was grateful my face was hidden so he didn’t see my eyes widen. “Let’s go inside. I think they’re waiting.”
The clatter of cutlery wove its way to us. “I’m starving,” I said. Ridge clasped my hand as if we were already a couple and pulled me through the doorway.
* * *
CEECEE POINTED TO a chair. “That’s your seat, Sarah.” She smirked at me as I sat next to Ridge’s heavenly scented presence.
“You two lovebirds need any help?” CeeCee boomed, pulling me back to the present. For a second I thought she meant Ridge and me and I went to speak, catching myself just in time.
The Bookshop on the Corner Page 5
