Page 6 of The Unbound Bookshop
Sage cleared the emotion from her throat. She didn’t usually buy into Herman’s histrionics, but all his melodramatic rambling about rebirth had struck a nerve. That’s exactly what she needed—rebirth. She’d been languishing at her own proverbial moor. The moor of meandering part-time jobs and morose indecision. She needed a fresh start. To finally find her purpose.
“When you look at this custom-built forty-five-foot sailing schooner,” Herman continued, “you may see peeling paint and weathered sails. But if you look closer, you’ll see the wind and waves, calling you to a new life. A better life. A—”
“Five thousand dollars!” Sage shouted before he’d had a chance to finish his spiel. She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed by her impulsive outburst. What had come over her?
Herman frowned, visibly irked by the interruption.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed. “Please, continue.”
He expelled a short sigh that sounded both pious and pointedly resigned. “Never mind. We might as well begin. We have a starting bid of five thousand. Do I hear six?”
Several paddles shot into the air, and Sage’s heart sank.Thanks a lot, Herman, for the Shakespearean-level sales pitch.
Before she could blink twice, the price rocketed from five thousand to thirteen. How high could she go? She had fifteen, but she’d need money for repairs. Andfood.
“I have thirteen thousand,” Herman repeated. “Do I hear fourteen?”
Eh.Who needed to eat, anyway?Sage raised her paddle.
“Fourteen,” Herman called out, nodding in her direction. “Do I hear fifteen?”
Sage scooted toward the edge of her seat, dizzy with desperation. A second passed. Then another. Her pulse hummed in her ears.
“Fourteen, going once,” Herman sang like sweet, sweet music. Tears of joy and relief pricked her eyes. “Going twice.” He raised his gavel, and a zing of electricity coursed through her. In a matter of seconds, everything would change. She could finally look at her life with a sense of pride, not self-pity. She could finally let go of the past. She could—
“Twenty-five thousand,” a deep, commanding voice cut across the room.
Herman gawked, and a collective gasp whooshed through the air.
Sage’s stomach lurched into her rib cage, colliding with her heart.
Please, no. It can’t be.Not him.Not after all these years.
All eyes turned toward the back, eager to put a face to the eleventh-hour bidder.
But Sage didn’t have to look. She knew each intonation—the rhythm, pitch, and timbre—by memory.
No matter how hard she tried to forget.
Chapter 4
FLYNN
Flynn Cahill stoodunfazed by the sea of prying eyes and unapologetic whispers. As an identical twin in one of the town’s most prominent families, he’d grown accustomed to unwanted attention. Unwanted attention that had only increased the day his brother, Kevin, died—one of the many reasons he hadn’t been back to Blessings Bay in years, despite it being the most beautiful, idyllic place on the planet. And thanks to his globe-trotting job with the family business, he’d traveled to enough countries to compare.
“Twenty-five thousand?” Herman uttered more as a question than a statement.
“Yep. Unless the other bidder would like to counter.” Flynn slipped one hand in the front pocket of his suit pants. He’d learned the trick watching his father handle business negotiations from as far back as his toddler years.You want to look casual and unconcerned, his dad had instructed while three-year-old Flynn had pretended to take notes on his fully functioning laptop.Like you couldn’t care less. Your apparent indifference will rattle your rivals, giving you the advantage.
Herman glanced at someone seated in the center of the crowd.
Flynn shifted his stance to peer around a tall gentleman blocking his view, then instantly regretted the move. The split-second glimpse of his competitor slashed a knife through his heart.
He hadn’t seen Sage Harper in almost ten years. Not since his brother’s funeral. He flinched at the painful memory threatening to bob to the surface.
Despite the decade-long lapse since their last interaction, he could still close his eyes and mentally trace each curve of her satin-soft tendrils. He could still breathe in her hair’s sweet, haunting scent of lavender and wildflower honey. A single whiff used to drive him crazy.
He shook away the unwelcome thought, mirroring Sage’s own shake of her head, announcing her defeat. At the motion, her curls bounced from side to side, taunting him.
