Page 12 of The Mended Hearts Bookshop

Ash sighed. Maybe having staff wasn’t the best idea in the world. “Alright, you’re done for the day.”

“It’s barely lunchtime.”

“I need to have a poke around and see what’s what. Are there accounts somewhere?”

“Everything’s on the computer,” George said, pointing to the cash desk. “The password is under the desk on a post-it.”

“Security conscious, huh?”

“It’s never been a problem,” he said, backing toward the door. “I’ll come back tomorrow morning then?”

“Nine o’clock,” agreed Ash. She took a look around. “What kind of name is Mended Hearts anyway?” she asked as George opened the door.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“This is a romance bookshop,” he said with a chuckle as he left.

Ash frowned. What was she getting into? Men who wanted to hit her with frying pans and were disconcertingly not atall subservient, books that featured heaving bosoms and manly throbbing rods, and comfortable blonde neighbors with eyes like the sea and enchanting laughs.

Maybe coming here had been a mistake after all.

Chapter Six

“She’s perfect,” squeaked Pen, unable to contain herself.

“What exactly about her is perfect?” George said, pulling out a chair.

“Well, she’s tall and dark, for a start.” Pen closed her eyes and thought about her new neighbor.

Tall, thin, her hair was short and dark, curly on top, her eyes were deepest blue and her arms looked strong. She was capable and efficient, and, Pen thought, very sexy. In a sort of cool way. The kind of effortless way that meant she didn’t know quite how sexy she was. It was enough to make Pen’s heart quiver with excitement.

“You’ve literally just met her,” George said. “And if my opinion counts for anything, I think she’s kind of a bitch.”

“George!” said Pen.

“Well, she sort of is. The way she threw you out like that, it wasn’t polite. She didn’t even introduce herself.”

“She’s tired and grieving,” Pen said stoutly.

“She doesn’t even know who Mary was,” George protested. “How can she be grieving?”

“Mary was lovely, I’m sure… whatever her name is would be grieving if she’d known her.”

“Ash,” said George. “That’s her name, apparently. And I’m under orders to show up tomorrow morning bright and early at nine a.m.” He looked suddenly pained. “Oh god, I forgot to tell her about Fabio, do you think she’ll feed him?”

“She looked very intelligent,” Pen said dreamily. “Very competent, I’m sure she’ll take wonderful care of Fabio.”

George groaned. “Pen, you’re not serious about this, are you?”

“What’s not to be serious about?” Pen asked with a sniff. “Fate has thrown an attractive woman into my lap and I shall make the most of it.”

“She barely gave you the time of day.”

“I’ll grow on her,” Pen said, honestly believing that she would. She’d have to make a start on things though. She mustn’t let the grass grow under her feet, not when there might be other interested parties.

“What if she’s married? Or… or straight?” George asked, picking up a currant bun and putting a pound coin on the counter.

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