I rubbed my aching temples.
“Everything alright, Amy?” Bob asked, peering up from under his glasses, his gaze following the two fleeing teens. If Bob’s hearing was anything like his eyesight, he wouldn’t have heard me.
“Fine,” I said brightly, holding up the book. “They just decided they didn’t want it after all.”
He raised his eyebrows, which was something Dad did when he didn’t believe me, usually right after I’d lied. Keen to extract myself from the situation, I glanced up at the clock, which was still stuck.
I put the book on the counter. “Do you want me to change the batteries in the clock for you?”
Bob shook his head. “Time on a clock is irrelevant, dear. It’s making the most of the time we have that matters. Besides, it’s one hundred percent accurate twice a day.” He winked.
The door rang again. Ethan strolled in. The white T-shirt he wore clung to the outline of his toned chest muscles and stomach like a glove. I could see why women fell for him—he was ridiculously beautiful. He had the type of body fingers itched to graze over. Ocean blue eyes I found myself wanting to get lost in. Lips you wanted to reach out and touch to see if they were as soft as they looked.
Those lips curved up in the corner, and I realized I was staring; I snatched my gaze away and pretended to tidy behind the counter. Sighing, exasperated with myself for even thinking he was hot. And because, no matter where I went, he seemed to turn up.
“Amy, I didn’t know you worked here,” Ethan said, I could hear the amusement in his voice. Asshole. Reluctantly, I raised my head and gave him a tight smile.
“Ethan, nice to see you.” Bob greeted him like an old friend. “It’s Amy’s first day today.”
“I’m just returning the book.” He held up an aged brown book and headed straight past to the back of the store.
I looked at Bob, wondering why Ethan was putting his own book back.
“Ethan comes here all the time—he’s an avid reader. He’s a very intelligent young man, not that he’d let on.” He smiled after him with genuine affection in his eyes. “He’s a good boy.”
If he saw him playing “Eeny Meeny” he wouldn’t think he was such a good boy.
“He just needs to find a nice girl now to settle him down,” Bob said. There was a distinct lilt to that comment.
Now uncomfortable, I asked quickly, “Do I need to record anything?”
“No, he takes what he wants and returns it when he’s finished. There’s no need to write anything down. He’s been like a son to me.” His voice dropped away. “Ever since our son, Nathan, died.” He clutched hold of the countertop as if to steady himself. His eyes traveled out the window, seeing nothing. For a long moment, it was as if he was here physically, but lost to his grief.
“I’m so sorry, Bob.” I reached out to touch his arm in comfort. It was thin but muscular for his age and in contrast to his gray hair, his arm hair was brown and sparse.
He drew a loud, chest-filling breath and looked back. “We lost him to a car accident, a few years back now, he was only twenty-five. We waited years to have a child, Marg and I. Finally, we were blessed with our boy.” He gave a thin smile, visibly struggling to hold in the pained pool of tears that climbed to his eyes. “And then a few years later, our girl, Sarah. Sarah lives in Las Vegas now. You know the draw of the bright city lights and young kids.”
No, I didn’t know. I couldn’t wait to escape the city myself, but I nodded.
Bob let go of the counter and cleared his throat. “The roads here can be treacherous. Lots of people, young and old, have lost their lives on them. The cliffs drop off steeply—you need to drive very carefully, Amy.”
“I will.”
“Good girl . . .” He patted my shoulder. “Right then, if you could hold the fort for a moment, I just need to grab something from out the back.” He turned slowly, as if the memory of losing his son had suddenly aged him. He opened a door that led to an office, shutting it softly behind himself.
The headache still pinched, I reached down behind the counter, grabbed my bag, pulling out a water bottle, and a coupleof Tylenol. I popped them in my mouth and swallowed as the door dinged.
A tall, slender, smartly dressed woman with thick, straight, shoulder-length brown hair walked in. She was elegant and attractive, the type of style that screamed wealth. I guessed her to be in her early fifties, and she came straight over to me.
“Hello, Amy. I’m Katrina.” She smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Katrina.” Ethan appeared, giving Katrina the full power of his smile. He kissed her cheek, and I struggled to contain my eye roll. Were any women safe from his charms? Probably not.
“Ethan, darling, it’s so good to see you.” There was genuine affection on her face. “I just came in to officially welcome you to Church Heights,” Katrina said, directing her smile back toward me. “If there’s anything I can do to help you, please come and see me.”
Ethan must have noticed my puzzled expression. “The gorgeous Katrina Tolle is the town Mayor,” he explained.
