Page 13 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

“Captain Kidd?” I tried, hopeful. The puffin just tilted its head, then gnashed its beak at me.

“Tattie?” I asked. Again, the chuckle call.

Sighing, I went to get him some herring.

A puffin named Tattie. Could this day get any weirder?

Chapter Six

Rosie

Iwent from sleeping to awake so smoothly that I barely noticed the transition, instead blinking at the ceiling as my brain scrambled to figure out where I was. It was still dark, or darkish, so I presumed I’d awoken in the night, and I rolled over to stare at the cheerful pillow with two puffins dancing around a heart.

Right. Scotland.

I was in the bookstore in Scotland, and I’d basically gone face first into bed last night after I’d unpacked and showered. At least I’d unpacked. Proud of myself for sticking to my list, I stretched lazily, pleased that I’d woken so early. At least I could get a start on the day and hopefully get a jump on my cleaning. Picking up my phone, my eyes widened.

It was eight in the morning.How? How was it still dark? Usually, I’d be up with my coffee by now, having gone through my morning routine of lemon water, light stretching, hand weights, face serum application, and finally a cup of coffee as my moment of silence before I had to talk to people all day at the store. Honestly, I didn’t much mind the talking to people all day, it was just that I didn’t like the subject matter. I never really knew how to answer questions about if a ceramic pig pitcher would make a good centerpiece or not. Taste was subjective, wasn’t it? Who was I to tell someone if it would look good on their table or not? I’d often deferred to just telling people what I thought they wanted to hear, but largely, the conversations at Davidson’s were mind-numbingly boring.

I had high hopes that wouldn’t be the same at a bookstore.

Annoyed that I was already behind schedule, I rushed through my stretching and serum application. I’d need to source a set of hand weights, and I hadn’t had time to go food shopping, so lemon water and coffee were out. I’d been told there was a coffee shop in town, so at the very least, I could pop down there and get breakfast while I got my bearings on where the supermarket was and what I needed.

“Chill, Rosie.” I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I didn’t need to be on a schedule. Yet. It would take time to find a routine here and a few basic things needed to be set up before I did so. Like getting groceries, figuring out transportation, gettinginternet hooked up—all those kinds of things. I just needed to ease up on my rigidity and it would be fine.

I could be flexible.

It was a mantra Jessica had made me repeat, over and over, while we’d made a list of what I was looking for in a man. Largely because I think she was scared I was going to just settle into another relationship with someone and then refuse to change it because the person had become a part of my routine. Because that was really what had happened with John. Once he’d become a part of my day-to-day, it just was what it was. Even the occasional sex had been bland…mediocre.Did that mean I was mediocre at sex as well? After all, he’d walked out my apartment door without as much as a backward glance. He was part of my life, but it took Jessica to remind me that it wasn’t normal to fit people into your schedule simply because it was what you’d grown used to.

She was right, she was always right, and now here I was in Scotland with a new job and a master list of “requirements for a man” hidden in my purse.

Which was where it was going to stay.

I groaned as I pulled on a fresh pair of jeans, a button-down white shirt, and a Fair Isle sweater vest over it. Braiding my hair back in two French braids on each side of my head, I put on dangly sapphire earrings and strapped my Apple Watch at my wrist. Even getting dressed couldn’t quite pull my mind away from how I’d awkwardly kissed a stranger’s shoulder yesterday. It didn’t matter what requirements he’d met on my list. Because the list was staying in my purse.

I was not to be trusted with picking a match.

That was abundantly clear.

Before John there had been Jeff. A John look-alike, Jessica swore. Before Jeff had been Zach. And before him Tristan. All of whom had seamlessly worked themselves into my life and basically become a background fixture until something, or someone, ahem,Jessica, had pointed out what I was sacrificing for the sake of routine.

I jumped as a book fell off the bedside table and hit the floor with a loud bang.

“Damn it, that has got to stop happening.” Picking up the Celtic heart book, I brought it with me to the shop. I’d add it to the pile to reshelve, but for now I placed it on the table that Moira had used as her check-out counter. Pausing, I took in the shop. In the soft light that filtered through the windows, the space felt welcoming and cozy, and I couldn’t wait to open it to the world. It was such a different feeling than working at the discount store, where I’d hated opening hours. Here? In this beautiful shop full of beautiful stories? Yes, I wanted to share the space with actual humans. This was a place to be proud of, even if it needed some elbow grease before it was set to rights.

Walking around the back of the mahogany table, I pulled out the red leather chair and sat, testing how it felt. I needed to learn how to work the vintage cash register and see if there was a credit card machine to be found anywhere. Surely, there were bank accounts to be opened and ledgers to be read, but sinceI was giving myself permission to go off schedule, I decided to just take a deep breath and gloat a bit.

Well, maybe gloating wasn’t the right word. More like, enjoy? Just enjoy this cool space that I’d been lucky enough to inherit.

A bang sounded and I jumped, slamming my hand against my chest.

“Yoo-hoo!”

Holy hell, was that someone knocking at the door? Jeez, I was jumpy. Taking a deep breath, I pasted a polite smile on my face as I unlocked and cracked open the door.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet. I just arrived last night.”

“Oh, we know it, honey.” A trio of women pushed past me, and I automatically stepped back, still traumatized from the water bottle incident, and gaped at them as they hauled full tote bags to the table.

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