Much Ado About You

by Samantha Young

  Roane gestured to Caro first. “My cousin, Caroline.” Then he turned his head to me and stared at me a few seconds too long, as if trying to figure out what to call me. Finally he decided: “And this is my friend Evie.” He looked back at Poppy. “Ladies, this is Poppy. She just moved to Morpeth a few months ago and frequents Craig’s pub.”

  I knew from talking with Roane that Morpeth was one of the largest towns in Northumberland, and business took him there almost every week. I could only assume “Craig” was a friend.

  And Poppy?

  Well, it seemed Poppy was on hand to keep Roane company every time he visited.

  Our eyes met, hers narrowing on me ever so slightly, before she turned to Roane. “Perhaps you have room for two more at your table.”

  That forward little . . .

  Caro shot me a pained look.

  “Actually, we’re celebrating something”—Roane gestured between us—“so now’s probably not the best time.”

  “Oh?” She placed a hand on her hip and cocked it, that flirtatious smile still hanging around. Like her. “What are you celebrating?”

  How about it’s none of your business, I felt like snapping.

  Caro ducked her head, her body language screaming, No one mention me, no one mention me!

  “Life as we know it,” I replied vaguely before Roane could come up with something that didn’t involve his cousin. I gave Poppy a thin smile.

  “Oh, you’re American. Just here on holiday then?”

  Poppy seemed pleased with the idea. What would it take to make her go away?

  “Poppy!”

  She whipped around before I could respond with something sarcastic, and I followed her gaze. A blond woman was gesturing from the gap between this dining room and the next. “The food’s here.”

  “Coming.” Poppy nodded and turned to us. She eyed Roane with determination and then, to my horror, walked around the back of my chair and settled to a stop at Roane’s. The woman leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’ll come say hi later.”

  A flush crested the tops of his cheeks as he nodded stiffly.

  Poppy smiled like she thought he was adorable and thankfully turned to leave. Only she did a double take toward the fireplace. “Oh, I wondered where you were, you sweet darling.” She moved toward Shadow, who sat up at her arrival and bussed into her petting hand.

  For some reason her touching Shadow was almost as infuriating as her kissing Roane!

  She kissed Roane.

  Okay, it was on the cheek, but it was more than just a peck.

  There was invitation in that kiss.

  And he blushed!

  I couldn’t look at him, I was so mad.

  Which was unfair. I knew that. I never said I was rational every day.

  This woman knew Shadow. Roane had obviously spent some time with her, and he had never mentioned her even once to me. His supposed friend.

  As soon as Poppy disappeared into the other dining room, Caro cleared her throat and shot Roane a questioning look. “She’s a little full on.”

  “Aye.” He side-eyed me. “But she’s just a harmless flirt.”

  I scoffed inwardly and avoided his gaze by looking over to make sure Shadow was all right. He was back to sleeping. The traitor. He’d licked Poppy like he was happy to see her. “She seemed pretty familiar with Shadow.”

  “She bought his affection.” Roane’s voice held amusement, which brought my gaze back to his. “Gives him a biscuit every time she sees him.”

  “It must be often enough for her to carry biscuits in her pocket on the off chance of seeing him.”

  Something lit up in Roane’s dark eyes as he stared at me. “She has a dog too. Hence the steady supply of biscuits.”

  Realizing I was not hiding my suspicious jealousy one bit, I felt my cheeks grow heated. “Oh.”

  He grinned at me. That sexy grin. “Aye. Oh.”

  The bastard was pleased I was jealous!

  I narrowed my eyes, which only made his grin widen.

  Looking to Caro for help, I found none. She too looked inordinately pleased by my obvious covetousness of Roane and Shadow.

  Feeling uncomfortably hot, I huffed in exasperation and yelled across the dining room toward the bar, “Milly, can we get served, please!”

  She startled at my voice but then smirked at my tone. “Aye, keep your knickers on!”

  The patrons chuckled at what they assumed was banter, and I tried to let the feeling of being an insider here soften the embarrassment I felt about being so obviously territorial of Roane.

  It didn’t.

  I could feel his searching gaze burning into me, and I longed for the night to be over.

  * * *

  • • •

  Hours later, with dinner service finished, many of the tourists had dispersed and those who stayed were there to drink or socialize. Our table had expanded to Viola, Dex, and a number of the locals. Milly would join us in between serving drinks.

  Conversation flew up and down the tables, but thankfully no one mentioned Caro’s big move. They did mention how blown away they were by her baking talents and succeeded in pleasing but embarrassing the poor woman into muteness.

  It was getting late, and Caro looked a little pale and tired. I was just about to suggest she and I leave, when Roane’s gaze moved toward the bar. The sudden tightness in his jaw made me look up, half expecting to see Helena there.

  Annoyance flooded me at the sight of Poppy and her blond companion walking toward us.

  Hadn’t they left already?

  Earlier, Roane had thankfully not interrogated me about my reaction, and I’d managed to let the whole incident go by the time dessert arrived.

  Now she was back.

  Some of the men’s eyes followed her swaying hips, and I didn’t blame them. Little black dress or body-contouring yoga pants, the woman would look hot. Poppy oozed sex appeal.

  And she’d set her sights on Roane.

  Yippee.

  “Roane, you remember Kylie.” She gestured to her blond companion as she drew to a stop beside him.

  Roane gave Kylie that same thin-lipped smile he’d given Poppy. “Hi.”

  “Hi again.”

  “So”—Poppy dropped her hand to Roane’s shoulder—“room for two more?”

  He flicked me an apologetic look before he shrugged. “Of course.”

  My gut churned.

  I really hoped it was his inability to be rude that had led to that invitation.

  Then, to my shock, Poppy and the blonde grabbed two chairs and placed them between me and Roane. Poppy’s was shoved right up against him, and the blonde hit her chair leg off mine and stared down at me when I didn’t budge. “Do you mind?”

  Disbelieving, I shifted my chair to the left to make room for her, and when she sat down, she turned her back to me, her elbow on the table, effectively blocking me out of any conversation with Roane.

  He was too busy with Poppy to notice, considering her face was inches from his as she murmured to him in a low voice about . . . whatever!

  Caro was frowning at the entire situation. Sensing my attention, she looked at me and made a face.

  It was so unlike her, I couldn’t help but smile.

  This was my cue to exit with Caro, and I should have. But the sick, masochistic part of me didn’t want to leave because I didn’t want to miss what would happen between Roane and Poppy. I needed to know if he was going to take her up on what she was clearly offering, because I knew if he did, as unfair as it was of me, whatever spell he had over me would be broken.

  The confused, scared part of me that was determined to live the next few months without romantic entanglement almost hoped he would take Poppy up on her offer.

  Yet a bigger part of me hated the idea
so much, I wanted to cry.

  God, I was such a mess.

  Our table suddenly jerked upward as Roane let out a muffled curse. My eyes flew to him to see him pulling back from Poppy, and I realized he’d caused the table to move. My eyes narrowed at his flushed cheeks and the hard glint in his eyes.

  “I think it’s time for you to go.” His voice carried down the tables, the hum of conversation drawing to a close as all eyes turned toward Roane and Poppy.

  She was staring at Roane in disbelief.

  Kylie tugged on her friend’s wrist. “Poppy, let’s go.”

  With a huff of distaste, the brunette shot to her feet, her chair clattering toward the wall behind her. “No need to be so melodramatic.”

  Roane glowered at her. “If the shoe was on the other foot, I doubt you’d say that.”

  What had she done?

  Had she touched him inappropriately, because I swear to God—

  As if he sensed my growing indignation, Roane looked at me, his gaze softening, becoming reassuring at my obvious agitation.

  Poppy huffed. “Come, Kylie, let’s go.”

  Kylie’s cheeks were bright red as everyone watched the two of them march out of the pub.

  “I hope they paid.” Dex broke the awkward silence.

  Everyone tittered but kept side-eyeing Roane. He didn’t pay them any attention. Instead he got up and moved the now empty chairs back to other tables. When he sat back down, he moved his chair closer to mine.

  I waited for conversation to pick up again before I leaned in to him to ask, “What happened?”

  He cut Caro a look, and certain she was engaged in conversation with Viola, he bent to whisper in my ear, “She grabbed my cock.”

  For a second all I felt was the brush of his lips across my ear, and all I heard was the word “cock” in Roane’s deep rumble. The low, visceral tug in my womb distracted me for a second, but when his words eventually sunk in, the sexual heat I’d been feeling was overcome by fury.

  I jerked my head back from his, eyes blazing, and I instantly felt his hand on my knee under the table. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “That’s not okay,” I hissed. “That’s as bad as a guy grabbing a woman’s ass or pawing at her breasts without her permission.”

  “Shh.” He shook his head at me, and I bristled, trying to calm. He obviously didn’t want anyone else to know.

  “It’s not okay,” I repeated.

  It was so not okay, I wanted to march out of the pub and hunt the handsy cow down and teach her some manners!

  “I know.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That’s why I asked her to leave.”

  “Has she tried that before?”

  Roane shook his head. “She’s been persistently flirtatious these last few weeks, but I haven’t done anything to encourage her. She’s just . . . determined.”

  “I’m going to kick her ass,” I snapped.

  His gaze sharpened. “Why?” He bent his head toward me until our noses were almost touching. “Because she dared to touch me without permission . . . or because she dared to touch me?”

  The word “dared” seemed to reverberate between us because the look in his eyes . . . He was daring me to speak the truth.

  To admit I was jealous. Territorial. Possessive of him.

  Suddenly all the air in the room seemed to go out.

  “Knocking back another offer, Roane?” Milly’s voice suddenly cut through to us.

  I leaned away from him, trying to catch my breath, and he shot Milly a barely concealed look of annoyance.

  The pub owner took the empty seat on my left, and I glanced around. Dex had disappeared from our table, and the one next to it was entirely female. Milly and Viola; Bobby Hopeton’s wife, Hazel; Lottie Mulhern, who was a good friend of Milly’s; and Caro and me. They were all staring at Roane. Dex was up at the bar with the men, having taken over serving for Milly.

  “What?” Roane asked, clearing the scowl from his brows.

  Milly chuckled. “That gorgeous brunette was practically in your lap.” Her gaze flicked to me and then back to Roane. “Can’t believe you passed that up.”

  “Milly, don’t start.”

  “We’re just looking out for you,” Hazel threw in. “We want to see you settled. And you’ll never get settled being as choosy as you’re being.”

  A new indignation began to heat my blood.

  “Didn’t you say you knew someone you thought would be perfect for him, Hazel?” Lottie asked.

  Thus began the pestering of Roane on the finding of a romantic partner.

  With not just the Poppy incident in mind, but also our conversation a few weeks ago about how shitty he felt when his friends did this, my annoyance built.

  Finally, when Hazel, Millie, and Lottie became insistent on setting Roane up with a primary school teacher who lived in nearby Howick, I blurted, “Why are you pushing this right now?”

  The three women straightened as if I’d slapped them. “What?”

  “You’re supposed to be his friend. Friends don’t harass friends about their love lives.”

  “Evie,” Roane murmured.

  But I was too incensed. “Would you do that to me? Would you sit in a pub and publicly harass me about being single?”

  Milly looked uncharacteristically flustered. “We never meant any harm by it, lass.”

  “Look at him, for Christ’s sake.” I gestured. “The man is walking lady porn. If he wanted someone, he could have them.”

  Viola giggled first.

  Then Milly and Hazel and Lottie.

  I winced, turning to Roane, who was groaning into his hands.

  “Lady porn.” Milly threw back her head in cackling laughter.

  Oh shit.

  “Right, we’re going.” Roane pushed his chair back and took hold of my wrist. “Caro, let’s go.”

  Caro, who was struggling very hard not to laugh, wished everyone good night as Roane practically hauled me out of the pub.

  “I’m so sorry,” I apologized as soon as we stepped outside into the cool summer night. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  I could hear Caro behind us, making a gargling sound in her throat, struggling with her laughter.

  Roane released my wrist to run a hand through his hair. He heaved a sigh, his long strides not slowing any. “You were just being a friend. It’s fine.”

  “I think my point was getting through . . . until . . .”

  “Lady porn,” Caro gasped on a laugh.

  Roane shot her a semi-annoyed, semi-amused look over his shoulder.

  I winced. “I made things worse, didn’t I?”

  He side-eyed me. “Only time will tell, Evie. Only time will tell.”

  We fell into silence as we walked by the harbor, me lost in my self-flagellation.

  “So”—Roane broke the silence just as we neared the bookstore—“I could get anyone, could I?”

  I rolled my eyes at the pleased amusement in his voice.

  Caro strolled at her cousin’s side, smiling mischievously.

  Flushing, I huffed, “Oh, you know you’re gorgeous, Robson. You don’t need me to stroke your ego.”

  “I beg to differ.” He was suddenly no longer smiling as we drew to a stop in front of the store. “It’s getting to the point only you can.”

  The breath whooshed out of my lungs as our gazes locked and his double entendre had the equivalent effect of him sliding his hand between my legs. My mouth grew dry, and I could only stare. He did not just say that in front of his little cousin.

  Roane was the one to break the moment. He turned to Caro and kissed her forehead. “You were amazing today. I hope you sleep well. Call me if you need me, but I’ll be in tomorrow to check on you.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him.


  “Even so.” He squeezed her shoulder and then looked at me. “Night, Evie.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice through the choking emotions building inside me. “Good night, Roane.”

  Caro and I were silent as we made our way upstairs. Exhausted, we said good night, and I was just about to disappear into my room when the sound of my name on Caro’s lips stopped me.

  “Yeah?”

  She seemed to straighten her shoulders, as if readying for battle. “I . . . I want you to know that I’m very grateful for everything you’ve done for me but . . .” She exhaled heavily and tilted her chin up stubbornly. “I-If you hurt Roane, I’ll come for you.”

  It might have been funny, this young, shy woman half my size threatening me, but it wasn’t. There was sincerity in her voice. These two cousins, they were more than that. They were like brother and sister. “I believe you,” I whispered.

  “He—” Caro took a tentative step toward me. “He would never hurt you, Evie. You must believe that.”

  The thing was that I did believe that. I trusted Roane Robson.

  And it scared the shit out of me.

  Fourteen

  Viola seemed to be on a mission to keep Caro occupied. She’d shown up at the store, insisting on driving Caro to Berwick-upon-Tweed for a shopping day. Berwick-upon-Tweed was about an hour north of Alnster, and only a few miles south of the Scottish border.

  As I had a shop to run and it was now open Tuesday to Saturday, I couldn’t tag along, and Caro, remembering our discussion about Newcastle, didn’t want to shop without me. Which was sweet. However, I remembered how little she’d brought in the way of clothes and encouraged her to go.

  Life in the store was restful. After discussing some changes I wanted to make with Penny, I had the go-ahead to implement them. For others, scrolling through sales and stock history might not sound fun, but for me it was invigorating. I discovered stock that hadn’t moved in years, and with Penny’s permission I decided to donate them—children’s books to children’s hospitals, fiction to literary programs, and our local nonfiction to a charity store on the main street in Alnwick.

  I really wanted to order beach reads for the summer display, something Penny was wary of doing. It was one thing to lose money on old stock, but new stock was a different story. Especially when she might be selling the store in a few short months. Still, I convinced her to let me order enough copies for a window display.