For courage, he glugged down the rest of his beer and wiped the excess from his mouth. “All right. Name your price.”
Her face brightened. “Really?”
He forced a nod, convinced already that he was going to regret it.
Harper’s first condition was unsurprising: Wi-Fi. “I’ll pay for it myself,” she told him as they wandered back to the car at a snail’s pace. Fraser had soon discovered that she was like a magpie. She stopped at shiny things. They’d paused at every shop window, whether it was the pastry displayed in Pam’s Pies on the corner or the charity shop beside the tearoom. He might have been annoyed if it wasn’t so charming. The way her eyes widened, walk slowing as though a little person in her head was pressing down on the brakes. He’d forgotten that this village could be something other than the most familiar thing in his life. To her, it was brand new.
It made him feel a bit brand new, too.
“Well, I’ll probably keep it once you’re gone, so I reckon half each is fair,” he replied, rolling a stone beneath his boot as they halted again. This time, it was the classic leather spines of Thorn & Thistle Books that had caught her eye. He’d noticed her attention home in on it when they drove into town, then again when they’d passed it while heading to the pub.
Her fingers tightened around the straps of her tasselled shoulder bag.
“Want to go inside?” Fraser already had his hand on the brass handle, perhaps slightly eager to keep her riveted for a little while longer. Even if he should have been back at the cabin, ankle-deep in firewood to deliver to a host of businesses and friends.
Harper dipped her head sheepishly. “I don’t want to keep you for any longer.”
He clucked his tongue and opened the door. A tinkling bell welcomed them inside the papery-scented shop. He didn’t often frequent the place himself, only ever getting his paperbacks second-hand from the bookworm of the family, Eiley, but it was a cosy space, and a hit with tourists during the warmer months. “Come on. I know you want to.”
Her lips curled with triumph. She shimmied past him through the narrow entrance, hip grazing his leg in a way that left him stirring with tight heat. He remained gormless as he watched her cross the shop and bend to browse a lower shelf, her jeans stretching over that perfect, dimpled ass, curving like a deliciously ripe peach where it met her thick thighs.
Fuck.
He swallowed, tugging at his hair. The sharp pain brought him back to reality – and to the fact that he was no longer staring at her ass, but her face.
“See something you like, Fraser?” Harper folded her arms smugly.
He pointed just beyond her, at a stack of thrillers piled on a round table. “I’m a Stephen King fan.”
“Hmm. Your favourite must beThe Body.” Her eyes glittered with mischief as she slipped between the aisles, and then all he had of her was the sound of her slow footsteps, the smell of her lingering perfume.
Christ almighty. He hadn’t stared at a woman’s body like that since his teens. Had purposely refrained from doing it because he wasn’t in the business of being a leering bastard.
But her voice calling over the shelves broke him out of his shame. “We can go halfsies on the Wi-Fi, if you think that’s fair. I’ll also need a heater for the bedroom.”
He’d forgotten what they were talking about, and he shook his head to dispel his foolish thoughts. “Aye, I can sort that no problem.”
He waved to the man at the front desk. The owner, aptly named Stephen, was a balding man with large square glasses who, judging by the entertained smirtle on his face, had been watching the whole thing.
Fraser blushed and went to search for Harper between the aisles. He found her clutching a heavy fantasy hardback.
“That’ll keep you busy,” he said.
She scanned the blurb on the inside cover. “I need all the inspiration I can get. Apparently, smutty fairies are a thing these days.” She closed the cover with a snap. “So, we need to fix a rate for my rent.”
“How much did you plan to pay for that dingy Airbnb?”
She bristled. “It wasn’t dingy. Your cabin is dingy.”
He reared back. “I can still kick you out if you talk badly about her!”
“Oh, she’s a she?” She slid the book back onto the shelf to give him her full attention.
“Well, I built her myself. That makes her feel sort of alive.”
She regarded him in surprise, blinking slowly. “You built the whole cabin, all on your own?”
He shrugged, suddenly modest. “Aye. It was a lot of trial and error, but I managed.”
