15. Booked In and Blissed Out
15
BOOKED IN AND BLISSED OUT
Deniz’s arms envelop me in a comforting embrace, and his warm breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “I love you, Russo…”
Amidst the sweetness of his confession, I can’t help but sense the ‘but’ lingering in the air. He knows me too well, and it’s no surprise that he can pick up on my inner turmoil. “But… I know you’re not happy, and I think we should talk about that!”
His words are gentle, but they strike a chord deep within me. “You’re right, we do need to talk.”
“Are you unhappy with me, with us?”
“No, not at all,” I assure him, taking a deep breath. “I love you more than words can express. The past two years has been an incredible experience, but something is missing.”
“You want to have a baby?”
“Not today, no!” I laugh. Forever the Turkish man thinking a baby will fix all my problems. “I need to find something fulfilling to do, something I can be passionate about.”
“And what are those passions?” he asks, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a suggestive smirk playing on his lips.
I roll my eyes but can't help but smile. “Not those kinds of passions, you cheeky devil.”
He chuckles, pulling me closer. “Can you blame me for trying? But seriously, what gets you out of bed in the morning?”
“Usually Aslan,” I say with a grin. “You know how he gets if breakfast is even a minute late. Our ginger overlord demands punctuality.”
Deniz laughs, shaking his head. “True, he runs a tight ship. But what else?”
“You and I both know it’s books. You can take the librarian out of the library, but you can’t take the love of books out of the librarian.”
“Tell me how I can help.”
I take a deep breath, feeling a surge of courage. “I’ve been thinking about opening a bookstore, specialising in English language books.”
I see the wheels turning in his mind, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considers the idea. His brow furrows in that familiar way, the one that tells me he’s already running through the logistics, weighing the pros and cons. Deniz has always been the type to think several steps ahead, and I can tell he’s intrigued, already wondering how we can make my dream a reality.
“A bookstore could be a smart move. Tourists always want something to read at the beach. And with all the expats in Bodrum, there’s definitely a market for English books. Plus, if it means lightening the load on Zeytin, I’m all for it.” I can’t help but laugh at that sly comment. “It’s nearly time for the next olive harvest. I’ve already missed more than one, and I can’t expect the business to just run itself.”
“So, we’re going back to Bodrum?”
“It’s time to go home.”
“Kat and I have been talking about where I could get some space.”
Deniz stands up and walks naked across the room, his muscular back and legs moving with a fluid grace that always leaves me a bit breathless. I can’t help but grin at his delicious peach bum, perfectly round and oh-so-inviting. “I’ve got some ideas about that if you’re interested,” he says over his shoulder.
He returns with his laptop and places it on his lap. I giggle. “Watch your junk. You don’t want it to sizzle.”
He snorts as he opens up the internet. “I’ve got a few properties that you might like.”
I’m totally caught off guard with that. “Huh?”
“You surely don’t think I’ve made all my money from olives?”
“I’ve never really thought about it.”
With a few clicks, I’m now looking at a vacant shopfront right opposite the marina, nestled between a souvenir shop and a restaurant. It’s got prime real estate written all over it.
“It used to be a restaurant and has been empty for about a year now.”
“Why?”
“It was a Nepalese restaurant. The tenant hoped it would be something different and bring in all the tourist trade, but of course tourists don’t want to eat Nepalese when they’re in Türkiye.” Deniz shakes his head. “I did try to warn him.”
I pull the laptop closer and start clicking through the photos. The space is just right—not too large but big enough for a few aisles of books. There’s already a small bar at the rear of the space, and the ceilings are double-height.
“It’s got a large outdoor area as well,” Deniz indicates one of the photos. “And being opposite the marina, you’ll get all the tourists passing by.”
“It is a good spot.”
“It might be the perfect spot.”
“I could buy books or maybe do a swap scheme with the tourists. English books are expensive to import, so having a constant flow of new merchandise is important.” I glance at Deniz. “What’s the rent?”
Deniz reaches over and pinches my nipple, a playful grin on his face. “I’m sure I can think of something.”
I scowl at him, wiggling out of his reach. “Hold on a minute, Yilmaz. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it myself. You’re my landlord. I’m your tenant. I will be paying rent!”
He chuckles and points at the figure on the screen. I squint at the number, my mind already racing with calculations and plans.
“I can do this,” I murmur, more to myself than to Deniz.
“You definitely can do this!”
I laugh, my excitement bubbling over. “We could host literary events and wine tastings. Oh, and definitely some comfy chairs. The kind you can sink into and lose yourself in a book for hours.”
Deniz nods, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Just make sure those comfy chairs don’t turn into napping spots after a glass or two of wine.”
I chuckle, already envisioning the layout. “A section for local authors, too, after all there’s so many expats all writing their own novels these days. And we could have themed nights—mystery novels with red wine, romance with rosé.”
Deniz leans back, watching me with a satisfied smile. “I think you’re onto something.”
I turn back to the screen, my mind racing with possibilities. This could really work. A bookstore by the marina, filled with books and wine, could be the perfect blend of my passions.
“Alright,” I say, grinning at Deniz. “When can we go back?”
“Let’s just get through today and then we’ll start back tomorrow morning.” Deniz chuckles and climbs out of bed. “Right now though we’d better get back downstairs. I don’t want your mother to think I’ve dragged you off to have my way with you.”
“I think she might already know.”
“Yet another reason for your mother to hate me.”