Chapter 3
Chapter Three
T he bookshop had been surprisingly busy during the afternoon. Luke knew the island was quiet over the winter months and he hadn’t been expecting the group of cheerful ramblers. They bumped around the narrow passages of the shop, threatening to knock books from the shelves, until he asked them to pile their rucksacks onto the floor while they walked around. When the doorbell jangled as the last of them left, he heaved a sigh of relief and could have sworn he felt the bookshop do the same.
The sun had set at four and it was full dark by five. It made it feel much later. Flipping the sign to ‘closed’, Luke was ready for a pint and some food. The shop clearly had other ideas. When he walked back through to the register to cash up for the night, he found the red clothbound book sitting on the counter.
‘Later,’ he said out loud. ‘I’m going to sort the money, go for a bite and then I’ll read it. I promise.’ He wasn’t entirely sure why he was putting it off. Perhaps a stubborn part of him didn’t want to be bossed around by the shop.
The lights flickered and he held his breath, waiting to see if they would go out entirely, but they stayed on. He patted the counter in a conciliatory manner and opened the register.
It was quiet at The Rising Moon. Tobias and Matteo were sitting at the main table in the middle of the room and Luke joined them. If they had wanted to dine alone, they would have taken one of the smaller tables. ‘No Bee tonight?’
Tobias shook his head. ‘The Sisters go through times when they are less sociable. Like us all, I suppose.’
The words weren’t serious, but his tone gave them an ominous note. Giving Tobias a second look, Luke thought he looked concerned. Weirdly, he also looked healthier and, somehow, younger than he had a few weeks ago. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘All is well, thank you. I miss Fiona and the boy, that is all.’
‘When will they be back?’ Fiona, Oliver’s wife, and her son Euan, had taken a trip after Oliver had been… dealt with. Island-style.
‘Alas, they did not share that information with me. I would have thought they will be a few more days, at least.’
Luke studiously didn’t look at Matteo.
‘I believe it’s called ‘needing space’ and I gather that means more than the sea and the sky.’ Tobias smiled a little after this, as if he was making a small joke.
Luke nodded.
The door to the pub opened and Esme walked in, closely followed by Hammer. Winter, drowsing by the fire, lifted his head, saw that he knew the incomers, and put it back down.
Luke wondered if they had walked together. He wasn’t jealous, he told himself. Just interested. He wasn’t one of those possessive men who wouldn’t want his partner to have friends and a life of their own. He was just interested in whether Esme was as fond of Hammer as he was of her. And whether it was purely friendly. It was a matter of information.
Of course, Esme wasn’t his… anything. She was a friend. He thought there might be something there. A possibility. But there was also a wall of reserve around the woman, and he didn’t know if that was caution or a deep disinterest in acting on the attraction that he thought was mutual. Or the attraction wasn’t mutual at all and he was reading signals that simply weren’t there. He drained half of his pint while he ruminated on this depressing possibility.
Esme stopped at the bar, perching on a stool to chat with Seren, while Hammer came and sat next to Matteo, opposite Luke. He nodded a greeting, which Luke returned by lifting his glass slightly. Two could play at the strong, silent type.
‘Good evening,’ Tobias said, polite as ever.
Matteo was writing on his notepad and he angled it for the group to read.
Did the walking group leave?
‘They did,’ Tobias said. ‘I checked the car park.’
‘Good thing,’ Luke said. ‘It would have been a squeeze for all of them at Esme’s.’
Esme ran the island guest house and it had two bedrooms, three if she gave up her own room and slept in her painting studio.
Strange time of year for rambling.
The words on Matteo’s notepad were innocuous enough, but Luke could see the concern on the older man’s face.
Tobias, the oldest of them all, was the most relaxed. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Some people like to get into baths of ice. Going for a winter stroll is nothing.’
‘Are you talking about Wim Hof?’ Luke asked, amused. ‘I didn’t peg you for a health bro.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Luke caught Matteo’s eye and he let out a single wheeze of laughter, the most audible sound he had ever heard from Matteo in the months he had been on the island. Even Hammer cracked a smile.
Having finished her evening meal and a detailed conversation with Seren about the best way to make scones, Esme decided to head home. Other than a casual ‘goodbye’ to the whole table, she hadn’t spoken to the Viking, and he had barely looked in her direction. Which she didn’t care about. Not one bit.
Outside the pub, Esme was bundled up in her coat and scarf but could still feel the biting edge of the wind. The door opened behind her and Luke appeared, as if she had summoned him with her oh-so-casual thoughts. She felt herself flush even though he couldn’t possibly know that she had just been thinking about him.
Luke had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. ‘Well,’ he said at the same time as she had started to say ‘have a good night.’
‘Sorry. What?’
‘Nothing,’ Esme said, feeling her cheeks flush even more.
‘I have some reading to do.’
‘Okay. Right. Enjoy that.’ She cursed herself for sounding so stilted. Why couldn’t she speak like a normal human woman? She had thought that she had got more comfortable around Luke, that they had become friends. Just because she found him easy on the eye was no reason to lose her mind.
‘Actually,’ Luke glanced away and then back to her. His eyes bright in the light spilling from the pub windows. ‘It’s a bit of a weird one. It belonged to Alvis.’
Well, that sharpened her up. ‘What’s it about?’
‘I don’t know, I haven’t looked yet.’
‘You haven’t looked?’ Esme tamped down on the feeling of irritation. Luke hadn’t really known Alvis. Naturally, he wouldn’t feel the same pull to look at her belongings.
‘I’ve been a bit distracted,’ he said, his gaze sliding away as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. ‘I don’t know… Do you mind if I walk with you?’
They started in the direction of Strand House. Esme remembered when Luke had first arrived on the island. He had offered to walk her home from the pub because it was dark and she had laughed at his big city ways. Now, she was grateful for the sign that he wanted to spend time with her. Pathetically so.
It was too cold to dawdle, and they kept a good pace as they chatted. Esme waited for Luke to say what was on his mind, but he seemed content to chat about the bookshop and his meal and when Fiona and Euan might return to the island.
Once they arrived at Strand House, Esme had relaxed enough to casually invite Luke in for a coffee.
‘I would love a tea,’ he said, dipping his head. ‘If that’s all right?’
It didn’t take long to boil the water and make a pot and soon they were sitting at Esme’s kitchen table. She could see them as they had been a few weeks earlier, back when Luke had first arrived. He had stayed in one of her guest rooms for a couple of nights, and she had made him breakfast. It seemed strange that it was a relatively short time ago. She felt she knew him so much better now, and couldn’t really imagine island life without him at the bookshop. The thought made her start, and her hand jerked as she poured the tea, slopping a little over the side of the mug. She shouldn’t be that attached to him. That invested. He was a newcomer. Just because he had inherited Alvis’s bookshop and the role of Book Keeper, didn’t mean he would stay. Island life was quiet. He might decide he wanted more excitement in his life.
Luke added a splash of milk and then picked up his mug, cradling it between his hands. ‘You were saying you were distracted this evening. With Seren. Everything all right?’
Esme tried not to notice how big his hands looked and how nice they might feel spread across her skin. She felt a blush ignite and dipped her head to hide her face. ‘I had a broken night.’
‘Bad dreams?’
‘Something like that.’ Esme lifted her mug and blew across the surface of the tea. ‘Is everything all right with you?’
‘Fine,’ he said, looking away from her.
Esme felt the rebuff like a slap. Jet chose that moment to wake up from his nap underneath the table. He stretched against Esme’s legs and then she felt him move away. A second later, Luke jumped and reached a hand down to rub his leg.
‘Jet?’
He nodded. ‘Claws.’
‘That’s unusual,’ she said. She ducked under the table and saw two green eyes staring insolently. ‘Luke’s not a scratching post,’ she said, while giving his head a gentle fist bump.