The Things That Hold Us (Sage Valley #1)

Chapter One

teapots and tension

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

“Charlie?” I faintly hear, but it’s muffled.

“ Charlie, are you in there?” I hear again.

Blinking, everything starts coming back into focus. I'm in my antique shop, and Mr. Reeves is standing in front of me smiling with a creepy clown in his hand, ringing my front desk bell.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Reeves.” I quickly apologize. “I must've zoned out.”

He chuckles and hands over the clown with shaky, wrinkly hands.

“I see that, you seem to be doing that a lot lately. Are you ok?”

I pause, reaching for the antique. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” I answer with a smile, and start ringing him up.

I don't bother asking if he found everything he was looking for. Every week he comes in and buys a new creepy clown, and somehow, every week I have new clowns come in. I don't know where they come from to be honest, or why he loves them. I haven't thought to ask.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

I smile and nod, reassuring him that I am fine.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

I bag up the clown, tell him to have a nice day, and then start making my rounds to close up the shop.

I begin locking up the back room when I hear the door chime, letting me know someone has entered the shop.

Dammit, I forgot to turn the sign over to “closed” again.

“I’m sorry, I’m actually closed for today.” I yell as I make my way back to the front.

“The sign says open.” I hear a deep voice answer, and I roll my eyes at the response.

As I enter the room, my eyes meet a mountain of a man standing in front of the door. I can’t help but to take him in. He’s absolutely huge. His arms look like tree trunks for Christ's sake.

He has dark brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun, and he’s wearing what can only be described as lumberjack attire.

“I…” I stutter, realizing I’m staring.

I see a smile tug at the corner of his full lips. Jesus, what is wrong with me? Be professional, Charlie.

“I’m sorry, I actually am closed.” I point to the door, “I just forgot to lock the front door first, and turn the sign over.”

He looks back at the door, and rubs the back of his neck. “Damn, I'm sort of on a time crunch here, and I was told this place has the best selection for unique gifts.” He says, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

I stare at him for a moment. He looks really distraught, and I can’t help but feel bad for the guy. I guess I could stay open for another 10 minutes. It's not like I have a reason to rush home anymore. And to be honest, I could use the distraction.

“As long as you're quick.” I tell him with a smile so he knows I’m not completely serious, and I see that corner of his lips tug up again, revealing dimples that send butterflies to my stomach, and I instinctively shove them back down into the dark hole they live in these days.

“I’ll try not to take too much of your time.” he says, then starts walking around the store.

I’m not used to seeing someone so large in my shop. Most of my customers are women or elderly folks, but this man resembles a bull in a china shop.

I stand behind the counter pretending I’m doing something important as I watch him for a minute. I can tell he has absolutely no idea what he's looking for and the sight makes me giggle. I should probably go help him.

“Um, sir?” I begin to ask as I round the corner to where he’s looking at old tea pots.

His eyes meet mine, and one of those pesky butterflies slips out.

“Would you like some help? Maybe I can help you narrow down what to get?”

His shoulders lower, and I watch as some of the tension escapes him. I hate myself for wondering what his shoulders would feel like under my hands, but I can’t help my thoughts.

He clears his throat, and I realize not only am I staring, but I’m biting my lip too.

Good Lord Charlie, what is wrong with you?

“Well,” he starts, “she really loves tea sets and old tea pots, so I was thinking of getting these, but I don't really think they’re her style.”

I feel my chest sink. Gosh, I'm so stupid. Of course he's in a relationship, and I'm over here ogling him like a free piece of candy.

“Oh, ok.” I don't know why I feel so stupid, he is literally some random guy who just came into my store, but god is he gorgeous.

Be professional.

“I actually just got a really beautiful vintage set about an hour ago. I was going to wait to put it out until tomorrow, but I can bring it out to show you if you’d like?”

“That would be great, if you don't mind.”

I smile, and hold a finger up, “Give me just a second.”

I run to the back, grab the vintage chinese tea set and take it out to him. It’s by far one of the prettiest sets I’ve gotten in.

“Here.” I say, holding it out so he can see.

I watch as his eyes light up, and know this is exactly what he was hoping to find.

“This is absolutely perfect.” he beams. “Thank you, she's going to love it.”

His reaction to the tea set causes another one of those pesky butterflies to escape and I smile up at him,“Of course, I’m glad I could help.”

This is why I love what I do. I love seeing people's reaction to gifts they find here, or little trinkets for themselves. I love watching the joy in their face when they find the perfect piece.

We walk over to the counter so I can ring him up and I type in the price for the set since I didn't get to label it yet.

A yawn escapes me and it's too powerful to hold in. I’m so exhausted, if I laid down on this counter, I’d fall asleep with no problem.

I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look up at him. Especially after how his eyes made me react the last time I looked into them.

“I’m sorry for making you stay later than you normally do.” he says.

I wave a hand, dismissing him, “It’s fine, really. I’m just glad I could help you find the perfect gift.”

Finally, I look up at him as I hand him his bag. Our hands brush for the slightest second and it causes my breath to catch.

I quickly look away, then add, “Just next time, try to come in before I’m closed.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends vibrations throughout my body.

“I promise to make sure you are actually open next time if you can promise to turn your sign around when you’re closed.”

Our eyes meet again, but this time I can't look away. My eyes are locked on his. I can feel the tension building between us the longer we keep our connection.

What the actual heck is happening here?

I clear my throat, and force myself to look away. From the corner of my eye, I see his arm come up and rub the back of his neck again, “Right, well, thanks again…” he trails off as if he’s waiting for something.

OH.

“Charlie!” I blurt out embarrassingly, “ I’m Charlie.”

“Ah, Charlie of ‘Charlie's Antiques’. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Logan.” he says, then adds, “Have a good rest of your day, Charlie.”

Then he's gone.

And I’m left utterly confused about what just happened.

I finish closing up the shop, making sure I actually turn my open sign to close so I don’t have any more surprise visitors, grab my bags, and start walking to my apartment. I live in a small town, so walking to and from places has never been a big deal to me.

I stop at my favorite chinese place, and grab some food to take home. I’ve never been one to cook, and eating out is a really bad habit I am trying to break.

But not tonight.

Finally home, I unlock the front door, set all my stuff down inside, and make my way to the fridge. I pour myself a hefty glass of wine and sit down on my couch. Setting my food down on the end table, I pull my phone out from my back pocket and see I have three missed calls and two texts from my mom.

I sigh. I’m not at all surprised.

I love her, don’t get me wrong, but she's been a little overbearing since everything happened. She calls me every day at the same time when I get off work, to check on me. And I completely spaced and didn’t send her a text letting her know I stayed later.

Hitting the call back button, I take a sip of my wine, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat and wash away some of my nerves.

“Hello?” my mother answers, her voice way too chipper like always.

“Hi mom, sorry, I was busy at work and just got home.”

“This late? It’s 6:30, aren’t you usually home by 5:30?” she asks.

“Yeah, I had a customer come in after closing looking for a gift, and just stayed open a little longer for him, then after that I grabbed dinner. Is everything ok? You called me three times.” I laugh.

“Yes, everything is fine. I was just calling to check in. I began to worry when you didn't answer.”

“I’m fine, mom, I promise. The day just went a little longer, that's all.”

She pauses, “Ok. I just worry about you all by yourself out there and always walking everywhere. I wish you'd let me help you buy a car.”

“Mom, I told you, I am perfectly fine with walking. I’m fine by myself. Besides, I have neighbors, remember? I’m not entirely alone.”

I wince at the words after they leave my mouth. I’ve been alone for a year now, and not a day goes by where I don't feel empty.

“Well,” she pauses, “if you do decide to change your mind, you know you can always call and tell me.”

“Thanks mom, I’ll keep that in mind. I just sat down to eat, but wanted to call you back first.”

“Ok honey. Call me tomorrow, I love you.”

“Love you too mom.”

I hang up, toss my phone to the other end of the couch and grab my food. I take a bite of my orange chicken and let my eyes close in bliss as the tangy flavor bursts in my mouth. It feels so good to finally get the chance to eat.

I look around my sad, empty apartment, trying not to dwell on the fact that I really am all alone here. Maybe I should get a cat?

No. I hate cats. A dog, maybe? No. Dogs are too loud.

It's just too quiet in here. I can literally hear myself chewing and it's stressing me out. I grab the remote, turn the TV on and click until I find a romcom.

Alright, this is helping a little bit. I don't know why it’s bothering me so much tonight that I’m by myself? Maybe it’s because my mom made a comment about it? Or maybe it’s because that mountain man actually stirred up some sort of feelings inside of me?

I’m assuming it was just sexual feelings though. It's been a really long time since I’ve done anything intimate with someone, so it’s the only thing that makes sense.

And it's not that I haven't tried to meet someone. I have- It’s just that I haven’t met anyone that felt right.

I watch as the best friends have their first kiss and fall deeper in love with each other. Well great, now I feel even worse about being alone.

I’m just going to finish my dinner, finish this extremely cheesy movie, and call it a night.

At 7:00 p.m.

When did this become my life?

My alarm goes off at 6 a.m sharp, making me groan as I hit snooze.

Tuesday mornings are when I typically get most of my pieces brought in, so I try to wake up and get to the shop earlier than usual.

I take a quick shower, blow-dry and curl my long chestnut hair, but don’t bother putting any makeup on. I mostly stopped wearing makeup when I hit 28, and now that I’m about to be 30 in two weeks, I’m glad that I did. My skin has never been clearer.

I quickly throw on my favorite high waisted jeans, my usual sneakers, and a comfy, oversized graphic t-shirt, then clip half of my hair up.

I grab one of my pre-made shakes out of the fridge for a quick breakfast, and head out the door. I’ve never been good at cooking, so Cassie started making me these shakes on the weekends so that way I have breakfast during the week.

Leaving early also gives me time to hit the coffee shop on the way and grab my iced coffee for the morning.

The bell above the door of the coffee shop dings as I walk in and I spot Cassie from across the room.

“You're even earlier than last Tuesday.” she jokes.

“Yeah well, I went to bed abnormally early, which caused me to actually wake up with my alarm.” I say with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Uh oh. I know that tone.” She starts. “Everything ok?”

I roll my eyes at her, but laugh. “Yes, everything is fine. I was just bored and didn’t have anything else to do, so figured I’d call it an early night.”

She eyes me cautiously, “That sounds…fun?”

“Loads.” I say.

“I swear sometimes you remind me of my grandma.”

I roll my eyes, “I’ve met your grandma, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“What drink are we trying today?” she asks me.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know I always get the same drink.”

“Well, how else would I know if today was the day you got out of your comfort zone and tried something new if I didn't ask?” she says with a devious smile on her face.

I just glare at her. She does this every time I come in. I’m not sure what's wrong with ordering the same drink every time. I just don't like to try new drinks. What if I order something new and get all the way to my shop, try it, and it's awful? Then I don't have my coffee for the day. No thanks.

“Iced blonde espresso with oat milk and brown sugar, coming right up.” she says after a minute, winking at me.

“Thank you. Can you add a muffin to my order, too? This shake isn't cutting it today.”

She makes my coffee, throws a chocolate chip muffin in a bag, and hands it over to me, letting me know that she'll be by the shop later on her lunch break.

“See you then.” I say with a smile over my shoulder as I leave.

When I get to the shop, I see there's a large package with ‘fragile’ labels all over it already sitting against the entrance of the shop waiting for me. I walk up grabbing my keys out of my bag, unlock the door and grab the box, bringing it inside with me. I place my bag and the box on the counter and grab my box cutter, eager to see what came in this time. I carefully cut the box open and pause when I see what’s inside.

Teapots.

It's a bunch of teapots.

I picture the man from yesterday and wonder what he would have thought of all of these, or what the person he was shopping for would've thought about them.

He was ungodly attractive, and so large. Not so much muscular-large, just.. large. I’m a tiny girl though at the short height of 5'3, so maybe he’s normal sized to everyone else and just giant to me. And his hair. God, his hair. Most men these days all have the same hair, but his is long, and was pulled into a bun, which I find incredibly attractive. All I could think of is what it would feel like between my fingers.

I shake my head, trying to get control of my thoughts. I don't know what's gotten into me. I’ve never drooled over a man like this. Maybe it's because I know I’ll never see him again, or because I’ve just never seen a man that… manly.

Either way, I am not ready for everything that comes with that. Not yet, anyways. And he was shopping for his girlfriend, or at least I think it was for his girlfriend. Whoever she is to him, even if I did want to act on anything, I know I won’t.

Luckily this is such a small town where everyone knows everyone and I’ve never seen him before, so it’s likely he was just passing through and I’ll probably never see him again.

But part of me hopes that I do.