Charlotte
I’m late! I’m so fucking late!
There should be no reason for me to be late. I’ve been counting down the days and trying to find every possible opportunity to talk to Aidan. We’ve been texting every afternoon and evening once he’s done with school, but I haven’t seen him since our sign-setting-up excursion.
I miss Aidan. We haven’t even gone on a date yet, and I already miss his quiet and gentle presence, the rare flashes of that warm smile, and his soft, far-off look when he’s thinking deeply. But most of all, I miss that little chuckle he does every time I say something remotely funny.
I pull out my phone to tell him I’m on my way. That’ll cover my horrid tardiness, right? He won’t change his mind and leave.
With a shake of my head at my lack of planning, I thump down my stairs and into the alley behind the bookstore. Cinnamon envelops me as I collide straight into a warm, solid body. My grip loosens on my phone, and I watch it in slow motion as it spins in the air before clattering onto the pavement.
“Shit!” I cry, my line-of-sight landing on my phone as it rests on the pavement, screen side down.
The other person reaches down, and an arm with rolled up sleeves and a veined forearm grabs it. I squeeze my eyes shut and my heart roars in my ears. “Is it broken?”
“Nope,” he says gently. His voice sounds far-off and yet close.
Aidan?
I open my eyes, and there he is, standing there in front of me, holding my phone.
He’s wearing a wrinkled robin’s egg blue linen shirt with rolled up sleeves and olive-green shorts.
Damn, he looks good. I’m suddenly self-conscious in my laundry chair T-shirt and wrinkled jean shorts.
Clearly my plan to be casual has backfired.
His wavy dark hair is slightly rumbled, swooshed over to one side.
His glasses are slightly askew and a little farther down his nose than normal.
His gaze drops to my mouth long enough for me to notice, but then immediately shoots back up to my eyes. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.” I push a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s just this morning was…
Well, it was a morning. Actually, I’m kind of glad that I ran into you.
Now, I don’t feel so bad.” When he doesn’t say anything, I add in, “But it wasn’t my fault.
My employee had car trouble and came in a full two hours late.
Not her fault, but I had to open the store on top of doing admin work.
Then, we were swarmed with my entire Tuesday book club coming in for a shopping spree. ”
His gaze drops to our feet, and he pushes his glasses up his nose. He blushes and says with a light chuckle, “No worries. I’m late too. Lloyd spent forever finding the perfect place to pee on our walk.” He tips his head back, laughing. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
“Oh, you’re funny.” I breathe out, my chest heaving as I gulp for air. “We do. Next time, I will break my phone, and I will be very sad, as well as broke because these things are fucking expensive.”
“Might I make a suggestion?” Aidan says with a coy smile.
I cross my arms. “Go ahead.”
“Put your phone in your pocket when you walk.”
I scoff. “Blasphemy! I can’t text and walk at the same time.”
“Wasn’t there a PSA about the dangers of texting and walking?” He hands me the phone.
“That’s texting and driving. I’ll just hold onto it tighter.”
He smiles. “As you wish.”
A corner of my mouth upturns and I loop my hand into the crook of his elbow, pulling him toward Triple C. “Come on. You hungry? I didn’t get breakfast.”
Aidan stops dead, spinning me around due to the lack of movement, and I face his aghast face. “What? You didn’t have breakfast?” He checks his watch. “It’s after eleven? I usually have breakfast and lunch by now.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Are you one of those people that gets up at four a.m.?”
“Fuck no. I get up at five thirty.”
“Ew, gross! Why?”
“Because someone decided that teenagers should get up at the crack of dawn to go to school.” He studies me for a few seconds before saying, “Please tell me you ate something.”
I chew on my lower lip. “Well, I ate an apple. It’s part of a balanced breakfast.”
He groans. “That’s not a balanced breakfast.”
“I said part of. I ran out of cereal and milk, and I was too busy this morning. I also don’t have orange juice.
” I chuckle, and pull him forward again toward Triple C.
My mind travels back to a few weeks ago when we first walked this path.
“You know, does this really count as our first date?” I ask.
“We’ve technically already had coffee together. ”
“Tea,” Aidan corrects me. “We had London Fog lattes.” His gaze again drops down to my mouth.
Is there something in my teeth?
“Yes. We had tea together, and we also had dinner. So, could this actually count as our third date?”
“Or maybe our fourth. Don’t forget you invited me over for tea,” he says with a smile.
“Except we were interrupted.” I cringe, remembering my paltry act of seduction. “But we weren’t technically dating then. We were just friends. Or colleagues? Teammates? People who know each other? If books are as addictive as drugs, maybe I’m your drug dealer?”
“Friends sounds more appropriate,” Aidan remarks. A corner of his mouth curves upward and a dimple pops.
We reach the steps of Triple C and climb the bright blue treads. There’s already a line snaking out the door.
I spin to face Aidan and jerk my thumb to the crowd behind me. “I forgot today is opening day of the Farmers’ Market. You ok with this? We can always go to Little Bennett’s if you’d like. I could get Georgie give us in a corner booth.”
He nods and flashes a weak smile. “I’m fine.”
We step in line behind a young couple. I loop my arm through his elbow and watch Aidan’s face to see if he flinches or stiffens. He doesn’t. If anything, he leans in a little closer to me.
“How was your week?”
He presses his lips together and lets out a sigh. “I survived. Sorry I was too busy for the committee meeting. How was your week?”
“It’s ok. We missed you,” I reply. When he doesn’t say anything, I start talking to fill the silence.
“New books came out. Including some really good ones. You’ll have to come by and see them.
Also, this super adorable older couple came in yesterday.
They bought each other books. And then I met the cutest dog on Wednesday.
No idea what kind of breed, but he had one ear bent and he had so many tippy taps.
” I pull out my phone and show him a picture. He coos over the photos.
I tell him more about some of stories from the week. He laughs when I tell him how Harold, our bookstore ghost, threw books at several customers this week.
Aidan listens to me yap with a thoughtful expression on his face, nodding along with me, but he doesn’t say much in response. Anxiety begins to bubble in my stomach.
“Is it ok that I talk so much?” I ask.
His replies with a wide smile. His dimples pop, and my stomach does a little flippy thing. “I like hearing you talk,” he says in a lowered voice that sounds richer and deeper than before.
The line moves forward, and we step closer to the door of the café.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to keep cool. “When did you see Gott?”
His dimple vanishes as his mouth turns down. “At a parent-teacher conference. He’s just as annoying as his fiancée and his future stepson.” He closes his eyes and tips his head back. “That kid cheated on his paper, and the shitty adults in his life defended him.”
I squeeze his bicep. “I’m sorry. That sounds awful. Did he do the ‘Gott bless you’ thing?”
He opens his eyes and gawks at me. “He did! And he gaslit me when I called him out.”
The line advances again, and we step inside the café. I spot Nicole standing at the register. She nods at me, and I flash her a little wave.
“You mentioned the county office renovations in your email. What was that about?” I ask, craning my neck to see Aidan better.
“I don’t know. I just got a feeling. I remember hearing that they were redone a few years ago, so it seemed weird.
” He shakes his head, causing a lock of his nutty brown hair to fall over his face.
He pushes it back with his free hand, and my stomach does the flippy thing again.
“Did they look like there was asbestos in the carpet?”
I shake my head. “Definitely not. They were actually really nice.”
The line moves quickly as a large group finishes their order, and suddenly we’re at the front.
Nicole shoves two hot drinks and a paper bag at us.
“Saw you and put in your regulars, and I threw in a couple of goat cheese, pancetta, and chive scones.” She mimes a phone with her hand and mouths, “Call me later,” before she greets the people behind us.
There are no free tables in Triple C, so we make our way to an empty bench near town square.
Families and young couples drift about the square, going from stall to stall at the Farmers’ Market.
Somewhere in the square a vendor has set up a food truck, and my mouth waters at the smell of whatever meat they’re roasting.
Two dimples flash on Aidan’s face as he takes a sip from his drink. “I’ve decided to meet with my father tomorrow.”
I’m mid-sip on my London Fog and somehow manage to not choke on the precious concoction of Earl Gray tea and vanilla. “Wait, really?”
“I thought about what you said, and despite me hating the idea, maybe you’re right.”
My mouth parts. “I’m sorry I—”
He holds up a hand. “Don’t apologize.”
“Well, I could’ve at least brought it up better or waited until you asked me what I thought.” I take a breath. “Sometimes I act without thinking.” I bring my gaze to meet his eyes.
He shrugs. “Sometimes I think without acting.”
I huff. “Fair. Where are you meeting him?”
He gestures to Triple C across the square. “There. I figured if anything happens, and I needed backup, I could just wave Nicole over, and she would probably beat him up.”
I reach into the bag and take out one of the scones. It’s still warm from the oven. Taking a bite, I let out a moan. “Give your dad a scone. They’ll melt the heart of anyone.”
“I’m also going to ask him about Gott.” He bites into one of his and swallows the buttery pastry. His Adam’s apple bobs as his throat works.
I set mine on the bench wrapped in a napkin. “What? Why?”
He leans back against the wooden slats. His gaze travels to the Farmers’ Market beyond.
A band is starting to set up on the other side of the square.
A piece of me wishes I’d scheduled this for later in the afternoon, so I didn’t leave the store alone, and so that we didn’t have to deal with all the chaos of the first Farmers’ Market of the year.
But he doesn’t seem to show any discomfort.
“I’ve just got this feeling about Gott and that office of his.
It might seem paranoid. But something isn’t adding up.
You said that he wants the money in the budget for the renovations, which is why the budget cuts are happening. ” He breathes, his chest expanding.
I cross my arms and swish my lips over my teeth. “Do you think Gott might be up to something?” My nostrils flare. “It’s plausible. Especially given my suspicions about his fiancée.
He doesn’t say anything, only slightly nods his head.
I blow air out of my mouth. “Like what?”
“At a minimum, a conflict of interest,” he says. “Possibly some sort of fraud or embezzlement. I don’t know.” He grits his teeth.
“Your father was in local politics, right? He might have an angle that could help.”
He nods. “He’s also a tax attorney. He understands finances.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
He shakes his head, and I see a hint of a grin. “I’d rather meet with him by myself.” He sucks in a breath of air. “I want to improve things with him. Having you there might distract me.”
“Nicole and I can make his life miserable.” I take another bite of the scone. “I still have his number. We’ll sign him up for every single email list we can find.”
He chuckles, but his arms and legs stiffen. “Appreciate it. Mind if we change the subject?” His knee starts bobbing.
I grin. “What other stores have you been to in town?”
His body relaxes, and that hint of a grin turns into a smile. His dimples flash, and my stomach does the flippy thing again. “Just the bookstore.”
I stuff the half-eaten scones in the bag and grab his hand, dragging him in the direction of the dozen or so stores in downtown Summerville. “Come on, let’s go.”