Page 45 of Booked for Summer

Feeling better, she opened up the spreadsheet again. Her dad was right, she needed to get help, though she wasn’t going to go with his crazy idea of asking Liam. She had Daisy and Flo, but she wasn’t sure how easy it would be to go through it virtually. There was Adam, who seemed super helpful at the moment, but she was worried he’d see it as encouragement. Mary, Emma and Philip were also options but there was one other member of their group who she felt far more comfortable approaching.

Picking up her phone, she messaged.

Am in a pickle. Are you any good with spreadsheets?

A messaged bounced back five minutes later.

Can’t abide them. But I know a man who is a whizz at them. He’s on his way X

Bless, thank you, Jeremy… and thank Leroy!

It isn’t Leroy…

Jade reread the message. Weird. Who else could Jeremy have persuaded to drop everything and come to help her at a moment’s notice? On a Sunday.

* * *

Liam knew if he stopped to wonder why he’d just abruptly curtailed his meeting with the journalist, he’d turn right round and head back to his office. But from the moment Jeremy had called to tell him Jade needed help with the bookstore spreadsheets, he seemed to have lost his mind. Again. It was becoming a dangerous habit where the cute blonde book lover was concerned. His reply to Jeremy should have beentell her to forget it, the shop is closing in a few days. Instead he’d told Jeremy he’d handle it.

Jeremy had chuckled, like he knew something Liam didn’t, which hadn’t helped the queasy feeling that he was losing his grip. Nor did the fact he felt no hum of satisfaction as he registered thatOcean Havenwas the only boat moored at the wharf.

How does it feel to finally get your own back?

Damn it. Maybe seventeen yearswastoo fucking long to harbour a grudge.

With a grunt he pushed at the shop door before realising it was locked. Of course, it closed on a Sunday. So why was Jade working?

Suddenly the door opened and his mind stuttered of all thought, leaving him staring at her. Dressed for a day off, her blonde hair was swept into a messy ponytail secured with a pink ribbon, and her face was free of make-up. She looked fresh, yet intoxicatingly sexy, the sight of her tits straining against the material of her vest top making him lose the use of his tongue.

‘If you’ve come to stock up on your erotica, I’m afraid the shop’s closed.’

He unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. ‘Sorry?’

She slid her hand onto her hip, drawing attention to a bottom half which, with shapely legs, toes painted in neon pink and a pair of denim shorts that must barely cover the plump globes of her gorgeous ass, was no less mind blowing. ‘I assume you’re here for a book after your interest in Claire’s talk yesterday.’

‘I… no.’ He scrambled to clear his brain. ‘Didn’t Jeremy tell you I was on my way?’

Her eyes popped. ‘You’rethe one he sent?’

‘Sent?’ Like he worked for the guy? Yet, did it sound any better to admit he’d volunteered to help? ‘I was headed to the yacht,’ he lied. ‘He asked if I’d mind calling in on you. Something about spreadsheets.’

She sighed as she stood aside to let him in. ‘Jeremy sure knows how to embarrass a girl.’

‘Embarrass?’ His arm accidentally grazed her as he walked past, the fleeting feeling of cushioned warmth sending a bolt of arousal through him.

‘Would you want your boss to know you can’t do something?’

‘I don’t believe the occasion has ever arisen,’ he murmured, taking care to keep more distance between them. His very visceral attraction towards her was fucking awkward. ‘Do you want some help, or not?’

Her gaze drifted over his shoulder while she seemed to wage some sort of internal war with herself. ‘Do I want it? No. Do I need it?’ She sighed again. ‘I suppose beggars can’t be choosers.’

‘I’m flattered.’

Finally she looked at him. ‘I guess you’ll want a drink.’ With that she let out another deep exhale and headed towards the back stairs.

He made a determined effort not to watch her ass as she climbed the staircase ahead of him. ‘Is this your usual warm welcome for visitors, or am I a special case?’

‘Oh, you’re special, all right.’ When he reached the top, he found her looking at him warily. ‘Actually, maybe we should do this downstairs.’ He glanced around the small studio, taking in the kitchenette, the two-seater sofa. The… ‘No, don’t look at it.’

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