Page 2 of Saving Scarlett

I laughed, following her lead as we set about serving the new customers who’d lined up at the register. With the warmth of an environment I created myself, the familiar routine eased the lingering ache in my chest.

Once the morning rush had calmed, I wiped the dust from the shelves and straightened the stacks of books, admiring my cozy bookstore. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the soft jazz music playing over the speakers. Even if I hadn’t owned the store, I realized I would probably spend all my time there. It was the exact way I wanted my customers to feel.

My muscles ached from unloading inventory for hours the night before, but a familiar peace settled over me. My bookstore was my sanctuary, a refuge from a world that had been cruel and unforgiving for too long.

As I bustled around the space, a young couple lounged on the sofa near the fireplace, sipping lattes and reading from well-worn paperbacks. The fireplace didn’t get much use, since it was hot as Hades in Louisiana most of the year, but it was still a beautiful feature of the building. Two teenage girls giggled over their cinnamon rolls at a table near the front window and an older man tapped away on his laptop in the corner, a half-empty mug of Earl Grey tea beside him. My regulars. They came for the atmosphere as much as for the books and coffee.

Leaning against the counter, I breathed in the familiar scents, feeling tension ease from my shoulders. My gaze wandered to the worn wooden floors and shelves lining the walls, filled with stories of adventure, heartbreak and hope. There were so many lives and worlds contained within the pages to get lost in. I only wished I had more time to read.

A smile tugged at my lips as another wave of customers trickled through the door. My perfect, imperfect world. The one I had built from nothing.

This was my story.

My happily ever after.

Joshua couldn’t take that away from me.

Noticing that a group of college kids had left a stack of books on a small table near the back of the store, which was a daily occurrence, I scooped them up, intending to put them away. I had just started returning them to the shelves when the bell above the door chimed, drawing my gaze. A man stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered, clad in black from head to toe. Jet black hair fell over piercing blue eyes as he paused just inside the entrance, scanning the room. His gaze was sharp, intense, taking in everything and missing nothing.

Unease flickered through me at his imposing presence, at odds with the cozy atmosphere of my shop. And yet...curiosity stirred as I studied him from beneath my lashes. There was a hardness to his expression, as if he had seen and endured far too much in his life, although he couldn’t have been much older than me. But something about his lingering gaze and the way one corner of his mouth tilted upward tugged at my interest and I had to admit, he was sexy as hell.

A mystery waiting to be solved.

His gaze landed on a shelf of tattered paperbacks along the far wall and the hint of a smile softened his angular features. My heart skipped as he strode forward, boots thudding against the wooden floor, and slid out a worn copy of Treasure Island.

Interest sparked in those fathomless light blue eyes as he flipped through the pages, as if transported to another time and place. A place of adventure and danger and…longing.

Heat crept into my cheeks. I was reading too much into a simple glance and smile, letting my imagination run wild. The stranger was just a customer, here to browse the shelves like any other.

Surprising even myself, I moved across the room, my hands smoothing the front of my apron as I stepped forward to greet him.

I cleared my throat, my pulse quickening like I was an unpopular schoolgirl asking the popular guy to prom. “Find anything interesting?”

Glancing up from the book, a flicker of surprise crossed his expression, as if he hadn’t expected me to approach. Still, his lips curved into a slow, devastating smile that did dangerous things to my heart.

“A childhood favorite.” As though fate only meant to be crueler, his voice was as smooth and dark as aged whiskey. He held up the book. “Treasure Island ignited my love for adventure at a young age.”

“Mine as well.” I leaned a hip against the shelf, hoping I appeared more at ease than I felt. Inside, my body was buzzing. “The pirates, the danger, the thrill of discovering treasure. Stevenson was a master storyteller.”

“That he was.” Sliding the book back into place, he turned to face me fully, arms loosely crossing over his chest. Even with my heels, I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “You have an interesting collection here. Not what one would expect in a small coffee shop.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Although I shrugged, a flush of pride rushed through me. “Books have always been my passion. There’s nothing quite like getting lost in a good story, discovering new worlds and characters.”

“An escape from reality.” His tone had gone pensive, as if he understood that need on a deeper level. “And a glimpse into the lives of others, to remind us we’re not alone.”

I stared at him, struck by the insight. He saw it, the power of stories—of words—to transcend our circumstances and forge connections.

A slow smile curved my lips. “It seems we have more in common than a love for Treasure Island, Mr...?”

He blinked, as if realizing he hadn’t introduced himself. “Bane.”

Our gazes held for a long moment, a strange tension simmering between us. I couldn’t look away from his eyes, pale blue and piercing, and I realized at that moment that his name was an omen. Something told me this man could destroy me and I would love every second of it.

Reminding myself that I was indeed married and that I shouldn’t think such things, I licked my dry lips, all too aware of my heartbeat quickening. “Bane,” I repeated. Even as I was berating myself for the awkward response, one corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile that nearly threw my equilibrium off balance. “It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine...?” He posed it as a question, obviously waiting for my name.

“I’m Scarlett.”

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