The Little Bookshop at Herring Cove. Kellie Hailes
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her shop couldn’t be trusted.
Yet she’d agreed to let him help. Fool that she was.
A good-looking face and a bit of encouragement from Ginny and she’d been thrust into a déjà vu spiral. She’d made the mistake of trusting a handsome face before and look how that had turned out. Her heart well and truly dented, and her business in danger of being taken from her.
At least this time she wasn’t going to be fooled by a pretty face and charming ways. She was simply going to let him do the work, then send him on his way. No chit-chat. No case of the friendlies. No letting her guard down.
‘Morning. Alexander Fletcher, reporting for work.’
Sophie dragged her gaze up to see Alexander saluting her, a wide grin on his face, emphasising the twinkle in his eyes and the straight, white perfection of his teeth.
Fooled by his pretty face she would not be, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate it. Herring Cove wasn’t exactly teeming with men you’d call a good catch. Not that she wanted to catch a man. Her hook was firmly reeled in. There was no law against looking though.
Alexander released his salute. ‘So, what have you got for me to do?’
Sophie dragged her hand across her eyes and stifled a yawn. ‘Are you always so perky at this time of day?’ She pushed the home button on her phone. ‘It’s only just after nine.’
‘I wake at five sharp. Go for a run. Check emails. Deal with whatever needs dealing with.’
‘Like destroying people’s lifestyles.’ Sophie mentally zipped her lips. Alexander had offered to help for free. It wasn’t right to be rude to him. And she couldn’t afford to look this gift horse in the mouth. ‘Sorry, Alexander. I know you think you’re doing something good here by building the resort, and even though I’m vehemently against it, I shouldn’t be rude, not when I’m taking blatant advantage of your kind but misguided offer.’
Alexander shrugged. ‘At least we know where we stand with each other.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘So, where are the materials? I’m ready to go.’
Sophie waved her hand towards the storeroom, which led to the storage area behind the shops. ‘Follow me.’
‘I’m glad you liked my library idea. It’s pretty cool, if I do say so myself. And I really like your idea of writer talks, and setting up a website. E-commerce is a must in this day and age.’
The thrumming in Sophie’s temples intensified. ‘How about you just start with the shelving and we’ll see how that goes, shall we?’ She unlocked the door and pushed it open. ‘Here we go.’ She swept her arm over the ‘materials’ he had to work with.
‘Pallets. That’s what you’ve got for me?’ Alexander knelt down and ran his hand over the pale gold, streaked with colours of honey timber. ‘Because a hammer and some nails would be good. Maybe a bit of sandpaper so I can smooth off the edges?’
‘Not enough nails in your wallet?’ She waited for him to rise to the bait.
‘Nope. Just keep the one in there. It’s kind of like a good-luck charm.’
Okay, so he wasn’t catching. She bit the soft inner flesh of her cheek, torn between wanting him to give up and go and knowing she needed the help.
‘Sophie? Are you alright? You’re looking a bit dazed.’ Alexander stood and before she could say no, he’d placed his hand on her forehead. ‘Are you coming down with something?’
Sophie swiped the hand away, his kindness adding to the squirming in her stomach. ‘I’m fine. Just got a headache. The hammer and nails are by the door there. I’ll get you some sandpaper. I’m sure Ginny’s husband, Mike, will have some we can use.’
‘Great, thanks.’ Alexander bent over and scooped them up. His hand confidently grasped the hammer like it was second nature to him.
Which made no sense. What kind of businessman was as at home in a suit as he was with handling a tool?
‘Right, I’ll get started then.’ Without another word, he turned his back on her and began pulling out nails from the pallets using the claw-end of the hammer.
He made it look so easy. Like pulling a thorn from your skin.
If only she could remove the financial problems of the bookshop as easily, in a way that didn’t mean selling up.
‘If there’s enough wood left over I’ll make some new display cases.’ Alexander didn’t look up from his work. Didn’t look for confirmation.
Sophie backed towards the door. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
What else could she say? ‘No’ would be churlish, and questioning why he was helping her out was a waste of words since he’d made his position and reasoning clear.
She shut the door behind her and pressed her forehead to the door. The pressure of the hard, cool wood against her forehead eased her headache a little, but not enough to erase the pain altogether. For that she needed all her problems solved, and the only person she could trust and rely on to do that was herself.
***
‘Here.’ A plain, white mug was thrust before Alexander. ‘I thought you might like a cup of tea since you’ve been out here for hours. And I made you a sandwich too.’
Alexander’s stomach rumbled as loud as the thunder that had grumbled off-shore for the past hour as he took in the glistening slabs of bright red tomato, crisp green lettuce and generous slices of cheese and ham, held together by two hunks of crusty brown bread. A summer storm was brewing and he was trying not to see it as an omen.
Loyalty to his family warred with loyalty to his self-respect and his ethics, and no matter how hard he tried to find a common ground between the two, he always came to the same conclusion. He’d either end up disappointing his family or losing himself. Neither option was appetising.
Another rumble bounced around the sky, followed by a smaller version coming from inside him.
‘Sounds like I should’ve brought you this earlier. Sorry.’
Alexander set his hammer aside, wiped his forearm across his sweaty brow and forced himself not to look surprised. Sophie sounded sorry. And the way she was gnawing on her lower lip indicated she felt sorry too.
‘It’s okay, I was so busy being head down bum up working on this shelving that I didn’t notice how hungry I was until I saw that beast of a sandwich.’ He took the plate from her with a nod of thanks. ‘The bread looks amazing. Is there a secret local bakery that makes it?’ He took a bite and closed his eyes as the sweet acidity of the tomato mixed with the freshness of the lettuce and the richness of the ham and cheese. ‘Tastes amazing too.’
The sandwich couldn’t hide the grin that came out of nowhere. His father and mother would both be having hernias if they could see their son right now. His business suit cast aside for a simple T-shirt and shorts. Dirt had made its way under his fingernails. And the fact that he’d just spoken while his mouth was full? A Fletcher family no-no. All manners all the time.
‘Why are you smiling like that? You look like you’re up to something.’ Sophie sank down onto the paving stones beside him. Her look of suspicion was back, but it was nowhere near full strength. Instead it was mixed with curiosity.
Alexander swallowed his mouthful and ran his thumb over his lips, removing any traces of crumbs. ‘Not up to anything. I’m just really enjoying this…’ This everything. ‘This sandwich. It’s honestly one of the best I’ve ever had.’
Sophie’s cheeks bloomed a pretty pink. ‘I make the bread myself. It’s my mother’s recipe. And the lettuce and tomatoes come from the farmer next door. He has a small roadside stall, and his produce is always picked-that-day fresh.’
Guilt threatened to steal the joy that came from enjoying a simple sandwich and an honest day’s