Page 13 of The Mended Hearts Bookshop

“Psh,” Pen said, except now that George mentioned it, both those things could be a problem. Except… “There was no wedding ring. And everybody’s a little bit gay, aren’t they?”

“That seems insulting,” said George through a mouthful of bun. He swallowed. “I mean, I’m not even a little bit straight. The thought of a woman with all those… curves and things.” He pulled a face. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a boob if it was shoved in my face.”

“I would,” Pen said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do, so you’re going to have to entertain yourself.”

“Are you throwing me out?” George asked indignantly.

“Nope, you’re welcome to come and wash up after me.”

“Why, what are you doing?” he asked, following her into the back.

“I thought I’d whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies, just the thing to present to a new neighbor.”

George sighed. “You can’t bribe people into liking you with baked goods.”

“I can help things along,” Pen said with a grin. “And they’re baked with love, so they’ll provoke love, that’s what my grandma always used to say.”

“Your grandma drank too much whiskey,” George said, popping the rest of his bun into his mouth. “And I might as well make good use of my day off, since I’ve rejoined the ranks of the employed and all. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” Pen said, pulling out a bag of chocolate chunks.

“Don’t try too hard, Pen,” George said, stepping in and giving her a hug. “You shouldn’t need to try hard if she’s the one for you. It should just sort of… happen.”

“Wise to the ways of romance now, are you?” Pen said.

“No, but desperation isn’t a good look, everybody knows that.” He patted her cheek. “And you deserve good things, Pen. Whoever you finally meet should want you just as much as you want them. Don’t settle for anything less.”

“I’ll be the picture of cool, calm, and collected, I swear,” said Pen.

George rolled his eyes. “You won’t. But you can try. Good luck.”

THE BISCUITS SMELLED perfect, warm and comforting, and Pen licked her fingers. She’d had to sample a broken one, of course. Now she packed up the rest in a box and tied a ribbon around it just for good luck.

She wasn’t being desperate, was she? Well, maybe a little bit. She was tired of being alone. All she wanted was someone to feed biscuits to, someone to talk to at the end of the day, someone toshower with love and affection, someone to complete her. Surely that wasn’t asking too much.

It was true that she’d only seen the new bookshop owner for a few minutes. But what she had seen had been… well, it had been lovely. She could see Ash’s long legs swung over the arm of her sofa upstairs even now. As that dark-haired head lay in her lap and they talked about the things they longed to do.

It would be terribly convenient too. Next door neighbors, and they could definitely knock through a wall, joining the bakery onto the bookshop, having a place where people could read and drink coffee.

It was too perfect for words, Pen thought to herself as she went out through the front door of the bakery and took the five steps to the bookshop.

The shop might not be open, but the door was unlocked. Pen knocked once, then pushed it open. “Hello?” she called. “Hello?”

Being surrounded by books made Pen feel safe, but then she’d always felt safe in Mary’s shop. It had always smelled like paper, like stories, like love. And as much as people might scoff at a romance bookstore, the truth was that Mended Hearts had always done very well for itself. Combine the summer tourists with the online sales and Pen knew that Mary had been a very successful bookseller.

“Hello?” she tried again, peering over the counter trying to see through to the kitchen.

“What?”

Ash appeared from behind a bookshelf and Pen almost thought she might have been hiding. But what reason would she have to hide?

“I brought you these,” said Pen brightly, holding out the box of biscuits. “A sort of welcome to town present. I thought what, with losing your aunt and coming all the way out here you might not have time to think about food. So…” She remembered thatshe wasn’t supposed to be sounding desperate. “So, um, did you come far?” she tried.

Ash squinted at her. “London. I thought I told you that the shop isn’t open yet.”

“I’m not here to shop,” Pen said, standing on one leg then the other before putting the box of biscuits down on the counter. “I just, um, wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood?”

“That’s not necessary.” Ash took a step forward.

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