Page 39 of Highland Hearts Holiday Bookshop

“Mm-hmm. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Esther arched an eyebrow at me and then swirled out of the shop, letting in an icy blast of wind as she went.

“It’s not like that,” I called. But she’d already slammed the door behind her. I blinked at the empty shop, the speaker now silent as I took my bearings. I hadn’t wanted a boring life. I just also hadn’t expected so much activity before ten on a Tuesday. Taking a deep breath, I turned the magnifying glass over in my hands and then for fun, held it over the notebook again. When the word “outsider” shimmered in the air again, a rush of understanding ran over me.

“I get it. I feel the same way. But it won’t always be that way. I can do this.”

The speaker switched on.

This Must Be the Placeby The Talking Heads filled the room. Maybe it was the whisky, or maybe it was the fact that I had a very cheeky ghost in my shop, but I jumped up and twirled across the room.

“Home …” I sang.

Chapter Thirteen

Rosie

Ihad a blessedly quiet afternoon.

And I loved it.

Lovedit.

I’d never had a chance to make my own decisions when it came to doing anything in a retail space before, and having the complete freedom to rearrange as I saw fit was honestly exhilarating.

Moira kept me company by serving up a wide variety of musical hits, and I’d started to call her DJ M by the end of the afternoon. That seemed to tickle her fancy and she’d started playing quite a mix of dance hits after that, and it kept me moving as I took stock of the shelves, made decorating notes, and mocked updifferent configurations for the shelves and furniture in the room. It was a clever system she’d devised, because—get this—the bookshelves were on wheels. I wasn’t confident on unhooking them and moving them on my own, but at least I had the option.

The bookshop itself was one of those buildings with excellent bones. Which made sense, as it had been around for almost two hundred years. I wanted to change the flow of the pedestrian traffic in the shop, as I noticed people were getting clustered by the door when they first came in, and if I moved one bookshelf and created more of an S shape, people could greet me at the table and then wind their way through the stacks. I also was pretty set on creating another seating area under the statement wall I was going to build out. I wanted to frame quotes from a multitude of books and put them in mismatching frames and create a gallery wall of sorts. Add some fun sconces and a really funky wallpaper, and I was certain it would turn out cozy as could be.

But it was the back garden that kept drawing my eye.

There were two ways to enter the garden, either through my personal quarters, or if you walked in the front door of the shop and turned right, there was a side door on the opposite wall. It was there I now stood, tucked in the open doorway, studying the garden space as a blast of wind brought me the scent of the sea and damp earth.

From what I could tell, Scotland didn’t have a lot of sunshiny days. However, back home, I was well used tolong and nasty cold winters. Many of the restaurants and cafes had taken to creating outdoor seating in these small, clear domes with indoor heaters. I wondered if I could create a little weather-proof space out here, maybe offer coffee, and people could linger a while longer over their books. It was already a beautiful space, with a low stone wall coated in moss and vines, and a view across a rolling field at the back. Surely people would enjoy reading their books and staying a while here. I knew I would.

Going back inside, I made a note in my projects list to source quotes for a garden build-out. At the moment, I just didn’t have the funds for it, but it gave me something to work toward. I was very goal focused, so I slotted it in for a potential end-of-summer project, pending funds. Glancing at my watch, I realized it was already late in the afternoon.

“Shoot, I’d better message Alexander.” Honestly I could have kept working in the shop, I was so loving having the space to myself, but I also wasn’t a fan when someone changed plans last minute on me, so I didn’t want to do that to Alexander, particularly if he had planned any of his day around me stopping by. Picking up my phone, I texted him.

Permission to launch, sir?

Aye, lass.

Okay, my stomach shouldn’t flutter at that, but I couldn’t help it. Since nobody was around to notice, I squealed. There was just something about a hot Scottishman saying “Aye, lass” that excited me. Truly, I had no idea this was a thing for me prior to coming to Scotland, but it seemed I was uncovering new layers to myself every day.

Alexander pinned his location and I pulled it up to see how far it was from the shop since I didn’t have a car. Belatedly, I also realized I hadn’t been out to properly explore Kingsbarns yet. The Book Bitches had delivered so much food that I’d had more than enough to eat the past few days, and I’d been busy with the store. So, two new adventures for me today—exploring Kingsbarns and meeting my first puffin. Excited, I popped into my bathroom and checked my face in the mirror. Adding just a smidge more of eyeshadow and a dash of blush across my cheeks, I considered my outfit. I loved these overalls. Serviceable and cute, and they’d be perfect for a walk in the cold winter afternoon. The shirt might be a bit cold though. Considering, I grabbed my Fair Isle sweater vest and pulled it over my head, adding another layer of warmth. Switching my flats out for chunky leather boots, I grabbed a coat and an umbrella and swung a crossbody purse in brilliant red over my shoulder. Eyeing the map once more, I stepped out of Highland Hearts and locked the door behind me.

Tucked at the end of a short cobblestone lane, Highland Hearts looked incredibly charming with stone walls leading off on either side of it, and the soft glow of lights in the windows. Taking a step back, I held my hands up and framed it out like it was a picture.

It was going to look fabulous when itwas decorated for Christmas. Suddenly, I wasn’t so against this Winter Windows competition. Why not have fun with it? It would bring people to the shop, and even though the shop was gorgeous and stunning on its own, adding some dressing would just sweeten it up that much more. Giddy at the thought, I hummed to myself as I jammed my hands in my coat and walked toward the main road, ducking my head against the wicked blast of wind that slapped at me. I didn’t mind it though. It wasn’t as cold as my winters back home, and there was something about being out in the elements that always excited me, particularly if there was inclement weather on.

At the end of the lane, I stopped and looked both directions on the main street. To my left, I could just see Two Sisters coffee house, the warm light from the windows a welcoming glow in the darkness of late afternoon. They’d already begun to decorate for the holidays, and twinkle lights winked around the door. Turning the other direction, toward the ocean my map told me, I stopped at a stone two-story building with a cheerful wooden sign hanging above the door.

The Royal Unicorn.

Ah yes, the pub that I had been told about. I needed to go in there and introduce myself to Harper, the American woman who had moved here last year. Maybe I’d stop in on my way back since it was literally around the corner from the shop. Humming, I continued on down the path that wound past cute one-story cottages, some already decorated with Christmas lights, before the road took me out of town. It really wasn’t a large town, but itwas bigger than I’d first given it credit for as now I could see where more houses were tucked farther back behind the main road. It was still small enough that someday I’d likely know everyone here.

What a thought.

I’d never lived in such a small town before, and already I could see it was going to be a wild adjustment from what I was used to. Back home, I was fairly certain I’d only known two of my neighbors in my ten-unit apartment building, and that had only been because we’d kept getting our packages delivered to the wrong addresses.

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