Page 18 of From London, With Love

“Hi, little sis,” I answer with a grin, rounding the corner.?

We chat for a little as I continue walking. As I reach the bookstore door, Emilia finally reveals the reason for her call.?

“So, how are you since ending it with Molly?”?

I chuckle, feeling the corners of my eyes wrinkle. Trust my little sister to check in on me after a break up—if you could even call it that. “I’m doing just fine Emmy, but thank you forchecking.” The bell chimes above my head on entry, and I head down the first aisle.

I stroll aimlessly through the aisles, absent-mindedly picking up and putting back down books, vaguely aware there’s no one behind the counter.

“Oh, Carts, are you sure?” The worry in her voice causes my heart to ache faintly.

“Certain. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Alright done. It’s not you I’m worried about anymore.” I let out a small laugh as she continues, her tone more humourous. “I’m just disappointed I won’t have a sister anytime soon. But I suppose it’s okay. I’ve got the girls, so they’ll do for now. I do just want you to be happy though, you know that, right?”

Wandering over to the Staff Picks section near the front of the store, a small smile crosses my lips. “Always, Em.”?

“Okay good, be?—"

Emilia doesn’t have the chance to finish her sentence as I let out an obnoxious “Ha!”

“What was that for?” my sister asks, confusion apparent.

“I’m at the bookstore, and you won’t believe what’s on the Staff Picks shelf,” I say, incredulous. I pick the book up carefully as if it will bite me if handled incorrectly.

“What is it?” Emilia asks.

“It’s paper porn Emmy, right up your alley. What the fuck?”

Emilia’s answering laugh carries through the phone.

“I’m not joking, Emilia. It has a half-naked man on the fucking cover, smack bang in the middle of the display.”

My sister’s laugh stops as she gasps. “Oh, those are always the spiciest!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I respond. This was certainly not Riss’ doing, so who the fuck has she employed?Obviously, someone with absolutely no respect for the written word.

Before Emilia replies, I see movement in my peripherals. Turning towards the counter, I lock eyes with the woman behind it. I’ve never seen her before, of that I am certain. No one would ever forget her if they had. My mouth is dry, and I audibly swallow.?

My sister's voice breaks through my trance, and I hastily turn back to the shelf, returning the book to its place.

“Carter, I have to go, the pub is calling me. Love you, talk soon.”

“Love you too,” is all I manage before the call ends.

I turn back towards the counter, once again locking eyes with one of the most breathtaking women I’ve seen. Her face looks simultaneously young and mature; I’d guess she’s somewhere in her early to mid-twenties.

She has delicate features, with perfectly straight brunette and blonde strands framing her face. Where the brunette section nearest the crown of her head is almost a chocolate brown, deep and smooth, the blonde ends are light and honey-like. Her lips are plump and pink, coated with a gloss that makes them look downright kissable; her mouth slightly agape. She’s as caught off guard by me as I am by her.

Only her top half is visible, with the large counter obscuring my view of the rest of her. She isn’t overly tall, perhaps 5ft. 4 inches. A bright red knit hides her shape, and dainty gold earrings hang from her earlobes. I can’t quite make out what they say, but they appear to be words, or at least letters.

Realising I’m probably staring, I offer her a small smile. She returns it, picking up the book she had lying on the counter. I can see a bookmark in it, so I walk closer to her.

“What are you reading?”? I ask. My hands rest on thecounter, and I lean my weight on them. Too late. I realise I probably appear as though I’m attempting to cage her in. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and I wonder what’s going through her mind.

“Oh, a romance book. It’s probably not quite your style.”

The accent surprises me.She’s Australian? Unexpected.

---