Page 50 of Devotion: Isn't What It Seems (Love Isn't What It Seems 1)

“Yes, there is one in Callander,” Lachlan answered. “I’ll take you and we can grab lunch while we are in town.”

“Can we come along too?” Ainslee begged and then asked me curiously. “Why do you want to go to a bookstore of all places?”

“I remembered something from a college class,” I told her vaguely. “I want to see if I can find something about it.”

“That sounds boring,” she joked. “Unless it was some wild college sex party.”

I shook my head but said nothing this time. Seemed everyone around the table was used to her because nobody even missed a beat.

An hour later, we were in a local bookstore. I couldn’t remember the last time I was in such an old charming book store. We all scattered, interested in different stuff. Lachlan went to the business section, Ainslee with her family in the children’s book section, and I roamed around trying to find old Scottish legends.

I noticed the old man from the desk eyeing me a couple of times. I just relished in the smell of the old and new books, enjoying the old feelings books used to bring me. They were warming up my soul and I wondered if it was all thanks to Lachlan.

“Can I help you, lass?” The old man couldn’t help himself or he was worried I’d steal something.

“Ummm,” I started hesitantly, worried that I would make an idiot out of myself if I mixed up my facts from that class. “I seemed to recall my teacher mentioning Scottish legend about a selkie taking a human lover. Something like that. So I was looking for something about it. And Scottish legends in general.”

His eyes lit up. “Ah, lass,” he replied happily in a crackled tone. “You’ve come to the right place. You are talking about the selkie.” He took my hand and led me to a section in the back of the bookstore. “Let me show you to our legends section.”

When we got there, I stood in awe. A large wall was filled with old leather bound books, top to bottom wall filled bookshelves. And they smelled divine.

“Oh my goodness,” I whispered, my finger gently tracing through the leather bounds.

“Yes,” he agreed, his eyes wrinkled enhanced by his big smile. “This is where you’ll find specific books on selkie legends.”

He motioned at the furthest section of the bookshelf. “And if you want to know about other Scottish legends involving maidens, they are over on this side.”

I followed him and tried to remember everything he pointed out.

“If you need me,” he told me as he prepared to walk away, “...you just come and grab me. I know every book here.”

I nodded, already eagerly flipping through the pages, lost in the book world. I heard him chuckle as he walked away. I was already so consumed, I didn’t even bother looking back at him.

An hour later, I was sitting on the floor with opened books all around me. There was so much material here and potential for a million different stories. It was as if I had had no water for years and finally had been given a glass. I was reading it all, thirsty for more words.

“Eve,” Lachlan's voice got me out of the trance.

“Over here,” I responded. He must have been just a bookshelf over because he turned the corner and found me in all my glory.

“Well, this is a sight,” he laughed.

I threw him a sheepish smile. “I’m just trying to decide.”

“On what?” he asked as he kneeled beside me in his expensive suit.

“On which book to go with,” I told him. “This one has all the legends, that one just focuses on selkie legends, this one is about fairies, and these ones are about Scottish mythology.”

“Holy shit,” Ainslee exclaimed and I glanced up to see her, Bram, Callen, and the shopkeeper all looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered to all of them. “I’ll clean up.”

I started to get up but the shopkeeper stopped me. “No, you stay as long as you want, lass. I’m glad someone likes these books.”

“Oh my God,” Ainslee squealed again. “You are going to write again.”

It wasn’t even a question. “No,” I stopped her right away. “I just wanted to refresh my memory on Scottish legends.”

“No,” she claimed without an ounce of doubt. “You want to write again.”

---