Chapter 22
I can’t find the words to mention Elle’s bookshop revelation to Rory.
Days fly past as we go back and forth between our shops, share coffees and sneaky kisses.
We’re like the two teens we chased away by the bins.
Someone always seems to be about to catch us in the act, whether it’s Margaret passing by with her trusty stick, a customer looking for recommendations for a good memoir or someone asking when the next breakup bookshop is going to be held, but it only seems to spur us on.
I don’t want to burst our happy bubble with concerns about Elle and something that might not even happen.
It doesn’t stop the nagging doubts, though.
As soon as Rory leaves to serve a customer or drops me home after an evening walk, the thoughts start to swirl around my head.
Maybe it is a mistake to be even thinking about being romantically involved with anyone right now.
I’m not sure I’m over the whole Seb and Macy thing yet.
How on earth am I meant to think about a future?
And what’s the point if Rory is just going to bugger off back to Elle, the love of his life he’s pined for since he was a child, and leave me in the lurch again?
Ah, yes. There it is. That’s the problem.
Who needs therapy? I’ve worked it out all by myself.
I’m starting to develop feelings for the gorgeous DIY guy next door, who kisses me like I’ve never been kissed, and I’m scared it will go wrong, like it did the last time.
Give me a psychology degree and be done with it.
But Elle said it herself – without knowing she had a very interested party in the audience: Rory would get back with her in a heartbeat if he could. If that is the case, where would that leave me?
One afternoon, after I spent twenty minutes helping a mum pitch the joy of reading to a very sceptical nine-year-old who still leaves empty-handed, Rory invites me to close the bookshop for lunch.
‘Close it? Altogether?’
‘Yes, as in, take some time to eat.’
‘That’s an interesting concept. I never close the shop to eat. I just eat.’
‘I know. That’s why I’m suggesting it,’ he says. ‘Call it a date.’
My to-do list shakes its head accusingly at me, and I’m sure my bank balance is screaming somewhere, but I don’t care.
Rory’s right. I should take the time to eat lunch.
It’s one of the things I promised myself when I first moved here, before I started the renovation work.
Now, the bookshop is open, I can take time.
Not only that, but I have a big burly Scotsman asking for my hand in lunch.
‘I’d love to go on a date,’ I say, running through all the things I need to do before I leave, but it really is simple: lock the door and leave. ‘Let me just grab my keys.’
‘Let’s go to the seafood place up the street,’ he suggests, as he casually reaches over and takes my hand in his.
Oh, so we’re doing this. We’re walking out in Ullapool, hand in hand, like a real couple.
The seafood place has an outdoor area packed with tables and wooden benches, and a large van selling food. There’s also a smaller van in the corner. A gin van. How come I haven’t been here before now? This is a real hidden gem, just a few hundred metres from my bookshop.
We order haddock butties with garlic mayonnaise and a portion of chips to share.
I can already taste the chips with their tantalizing salty smell.
The server hands us a wooden spoon and tells us to listen out for our number.
Rory takes my hand again as we sit down.
Sliding my sunglasses over my eyes, I bask in the early afternoon sunshine.
It’s lunchtime. I’m sitting outside in the Ullapool sun with a gorgeous Scotsman. How lucky am I?
‘This is bliss. How come I’ve not been here before?’
‘Work gets in the way. I had a customer in the store for an hour earlier, asking for tips on panelling his living room. Says he attempted it himself, but his wife almost divorced him when she saw his efforts.’
‘Sounds like they need the breakup bookshop.’
‘Or a joiner.’
I roll my eyes, then smile at Rory. It’s not like we suddenly agree on everything.
‘I had a debate with a nine-year-old about the benefits of reading versus playing Fortnite for hours at a time. Pretty sure I lost. We should definitely come here more often. It’s easy enough just to come along and place an order. Get it? “Plaice” an order?’
‘Ah, come on,’ he shakes his head. ‘You’re not fishing for jokes now, are you?’
‘Oh my cod, yes, we have to!’
‘What does a fish say when he meets the love of his life?’ Rory asks and I shrug, grinning with anticipation. ‘‘I’ve met the gill of my dreams.”’
I groan, even though I love it. ‘This scampi happening!’
‘Och, that’s terrible,’ he shakes his head. ‘Cod you please calm down? You’re being a reel pain in my bass.’
Our order number is called and Rory stands up to collect it. I stretch my legs out and rack my brains for more fish jokes as he sets the haddock bap, wrapped in paper, in front of me, putting the delicious salty chips in the middle of the table.
‘I’ve had a realization,’ Rory says as he slides onto the bench.
‘Is this another fish pun?’ I frown, trying to think if the word ‘realization’ has fish connotations.
He shakes his head. ‘No. It’s only a couple of weeks until I remove those green tiles from your bathroom.’
I pause and look across the table at Rory. He cocks his head to one side, a tentative smile on his lips.
‘Ah, yes. Victory is within my grasp.’
‘So you’re staying, then? No plans for that crepe shop?’
There’s something serious behind the question.
I’ve never thought about it before, but suddenly it’s staring me in the face.
His whole family has moved away from Ullapool, all seven of his siblings to follow new paths, while his parents have no return date set.
Even his ex – the lovely Elle – moved to Edinburgh.
Now he’s asking if the flighty girl that fled London to heal her heart is serious about this. About him.
Or am I planning to bugger off and leave him too?
I take his hand across the table and squeeze it. ‘You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Rory MacGregor. I’m more than ready for those bloody tiles to come off.’
A smile spreads across his face.
*
I wander around the bookshop in a post-lunch happy haze, making notes of books I need to order.
I can almost feel Rory next door, moving around his shop, assembling his own order list. It’s so strange how quickly everything’s changed since the day I arrived here.
I’m starting to discover the easy-going, caring Rory that everyone loves.
I can definitely see what all the fuss is about.
As he arrives at the front door in the early evening, he closes the door behind him and walks towards me, placing his hands gently on my waist. Is his gaze always this intense?
‘You forgot the grout,’ I point out.
He shakes his head. ‘Not tonight.’ As he pulls me towards him, my body melts into his.
My head screams at me to slow down and think this through.
I can’t ignore all the doubts creeping into my mind.
Seb. All the things that went wrong. Elle.
Everything that could go wrong. Ignoring them will not make them go away.
But the rest of my body is on another page.
In fact, my body is on an entirely different chapter.
‘I bought you something.’
He hands me a tartan gift bag. I glance up at him. ‘What is this?’
Rory doesn’t answer. I pull the gift, which looks to be a small wooden plaque, out of the bag, and turn it around. The sign is covered in illustrations of books.
A ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign. A book-themed one.
Is he freaking kidding me?
All thoughts of Seb magically disappear from my mind, any questions about Elle completely erased, as Rory leans down and presses his mouth on mine. The kiss is more urgent than in the courtyard and I fall into it completely. Utterly.
My whole body sizzles as he lifts me up and carries me across the room to the bookshop counter. I place my hand behind me, sweeping the area clear, as he stops for a moment.
‘I’ve always wanted to do that,’ I breathe, before raising my mouth back towards his. He pauses. Grins. And then leans in to resume the sensational kiss that makes my body beg for more. He dips me slightly towards the wooden surface and my back arches.
‘We need to close the blinds,’ I murmur. ‘Or we’ll be the talk of the village.’
But Rory isn’t one to follow my instructions. I should know that by now.
‘Fuck that,’ he says as he lifts me up again and lays me on the cool wooden ground behind the counter. ‘No one can see down here.’
I pull his T-shirt over his head.
I dig my nails into his back. He groans.
He squeezes my upper thigh. I gasp.
My breath turns shallow as he presses his body into mine, gazing into my eyes while we move together against the cold wooden floor. I look away, my face flushed, but he places his hand on my cheek and moves my face around to look at him, really look at him, slowing everything down for a second.
‘Stay with me.’
His low, gruff voice makes it sound like an order. An instruction.
So I do. My gaze doesn’t leave his and I’m lost in the strength of this feeling, being this close to and making love with someone new and different.
But somehow, in this moment, it feels like I’ve known Rory forever.
His scowls and questioning smirks have been replaced with gentle movements and tenderness.
There is no doubt about this, about us, as I feel his heart thud in his chest, or maybe it’s mine. We are one, lost in each other.
Afterwards, Rory continues to kiss me gently and slowly, tracing his hand up and down my arms and along my back.
‘What are you doing?’
He frowns. ‘I think it’s called kissing.’
‘I’m aware of that. But we’re… it’s finished.’
He lets out a low, throaty laugh. ‘So you’re just going to throw me out and be done with me, now you’ve got what you wanted? I knew you southerners were cold, but that’s another level.’
I frown as he leans back in to continue the kiss.
‘No,’ I say, interrupting. ‘It’s just… You’re not going to pick up your phone and start scrolling through the sports results? Or roll over and start snoring loudly beside me?’
He moves back from me, his face breaking into a grin, as he shakes his head. ‘That’s not how we do things around these parts.’
‘Oh,’ I say, arching an eyebrow. ‘So explain how it works in these parts then.’
‘You invite me upstairs,’ he says, kissing me on the lips. ‘And we repeat. Again and again.’
‘I’m starting to think I should have moved here a long time ago.’