Page 15 of Midnight Whispers
I put everything from the entryway table into my satchel and make my way out of the cottage. The air is brisk this morning, so I button up my cardigan until it wraps around me tightly. Thankfully, the coffee shop has a fireplace that is going to be lit today. I go to put my satchel in the basket of my bicycle when a peony catches my eye. Lifting it out of the basket, I bring it to my nose and inhale the sweet scent.
I look around the front yard, barely lit by the rising sun. I am both weirded out and intrigued by the random flower placed in my basket. Logically, my brain tells me it was most likely Parker who put the flower in there. Maybe he placed it there to apologize for ourencounterat Alcott’s. After every fight, every bruise, every drink, and every tear he would surprise me with flowers. I suppose he thought it would make me forgive him and for most of our life together it worked.
But, for some inexplicable reason, I hope that the flower came from my stranger. It’s nagging at me in the pit of my stomach.My instincts are yelling at me, telling me to just stay away. As I ride my bike into town all I can think about is this stranger and the back of his darn head.
By the time I arrive at the coffee shop, the sun is finally making its appearance. The color of the sunrise is muted by the ominous dark clouds that line the morning sky. Once I park my bike and disarm the alarm, I light the fireplace in hopes to warm up the main room. My phone rings, letting me know I have an unread message. I open my phone to a text from Flora.
Hey babe. It says there's supposed to be a storm tonight. Let me know when you close up the shop! NO BIKE RIDING HOME!!!
I will probably close the shop up early and go to Whimsy’s. But I will let you know!
Sounds good! Love you.
Love you most.
As expected,the rain slows business down for the day. I have a few of my regulars during operating hours, but it isn’t nearly as busy as a normal day. As the day goes on, I find myself looking toward the table in the back corner. Disappointment fills my chest every time I see it remains empty.
Why can’t I stop thinking about him?
I close around two o’ clock and send Flora a text, letting her know that I am heading to the bookstore. There is little to be done in Alcott’s since we had only a few customers today, but with the lack of business, I am able to do some much neededdeep cleaning and restocking. After I set the alarm and lock the doors, I open my umbrella and walk toward Whimsy’s. I am absolutely cursing myself for not wearing boots as my Converses are getting soaked by the rain.
Whimsy’s has been my favorite bookstore since we moved to Emolyn Cove. Well, I mean, it’s really the only bookstore we have if you don’t count the book selection at the drugstore. Miss Patterson owns the building four doors down from mine, so I often walk down here and browse the shelves.
It was one of the first places my dad and I went together when we arrived in town. The small bookstore is divided into four sections: romance, fantasy, non-fiction, and religious. Dad really enjoyed non-fiction. He loved reading about different things throughout history, especially from people who lived through them. I personally enjoy escaping the world I live in and reading fantasy and romance.
Walking through the aisles makes me feel closer to Dad in a way. I run my fingers over the spines of the books, lost in a world all my own. I’m so lost in fact, that I don’t see the person in front of me until I crash into them.
“Oh my gosh. I amsosorry!” I exclaim. I put my face in the palms of my hands, hoping to hide the shade of crimson that has now replaced the typical pale skin of my cheeks.
The man before me doesn’t flinch. “No need to apologize, darling. I too get lost in the world of books.” He smiles, his teeth perfectly straight and white.
“Wow.”
Did I just say that out loud?
He lets out a low chuckle. “Did you accost me to get this special edition copy ofWuthering Heights?”he asks, holding up the book.
“The gold foil detailing on the page's edge and the floral print on the front would absolutely be a reason toaccostsomeone, but I already have that copy.” I smirk and raise a brow.
Am I freaking flirting right now?
“My mistake…?” He raises a brow.
“Lillia.” I smile, extend my hand, and take in his sharp cheekbones and wispy blonde hair. It’s honestly his eyes that I could get lost in; the golden brown is unlike anything I’ve seen before.
“What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He grabs my hand, flips it over, and places a kiss on my knuckles. It wasn’t the kiss that took me by surprise, but more so the temperature of his hands. They were hard and cold, like marble.
“And your name is?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Cedar.”
“You’re not from Emolyn Cove, are you?”
“What gave me away?” He chuckles and readjusted his shoulders, towering over me by at least a foot. Not that anyone being taller than me was an issue, being that I’m barely over five foot.
“It’s just a small town. Everyone kind of knows everyone else,” I shrug. “What brings you here? Family?”
“Something like that,” he shrugs. “It’s complicated.”