Hate mail. She tossed it aside and reached for the next.
This envelope she managed to open without bodily injury. Things were looking up. And unlike the last one, this envelope and the letter were typewritten.
That seemed far more promising, until she read, “We’d love to invite you to…”
She let the letter drop to the counter, not wanting to go anywhere they might invite her.
Liam let out a frustrated breath. “Seriously, Natalie. You can sort through the pile without opening them. Just keep any that look like they might be bills and toss all the rest.”
“I guess…”
As much as she dreaded what might be in the rest of those envelopes, not opening them at all felt… wrong. What if she missed something important?
“Want me to do it?” Liam asked, already moving toward the counter.
“No!” The control freak in her panicked. She stood between Liam and the letters, blocking him. “I can do it. Sort them. I promise.”
A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, Liam shook his head. “Nat. I know you. You’re going to open and read every word in each and every one of those the moment I leave.”
“No. In fact, I wish I had a fireplace in here. Then we could burn them all. Make a night of it. A nice bottle of wine. A roaring fire of hate mail…” She moved closer to Liam and, hands on his rock hard chest, stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his mouth.
“That would be nice.” His crooked smile revealed the dimple that had sealed her fate the first time she’d seen it. “If you meant it.”
“Oh, I do. One hundred percent.”
His smile widened. “Good. Because you do.”
“I do what?” she asked, confused as he planted his mug on the counter with a clunk and strode across the shop.
“I’m pretty sure you do have a fireplace,” he shot back over one shoulder before he disappeared through the doorway.
She followed him into the meeting room. Or at least that’s what the big empty space off to the side of the building had become after Natalie had gone into debt purchasing the old Mudville train depot. It was now part book and wine shop, part meeting space for book clubs and such, and part her apartment.
She scurried after him. “What?”
“Did you never notice this building has a chimney?”
“Yes. Of course.” Not really, but he didn’t need to know that. “But I figured that would be for the furnace or whatever makes the heat.”
“Yes, but I noticed the other day, it’s got more than one flue.”
“You noticed that the other day? How?” she asked as she watched him press his ear to the interior wall that separated the shop from the meeting room.
“When I was cleaning last fall’s leaves out of your gutters,” he answered.
“You cleaned the leaves out of my gutters?” She felt herself crumble like a cookie over his sweetness. “Aww. Liam, that might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
He shot her a frown. “Natalie, it’s just basic maintenance. And since you hadn’t taken care of it, I did.”
“That’s why it’s so romantic.”
“If you say so. Now hush up. I need to hear,” he said with his ear still against the wall.
Hear what? She didn’t know and was about to ask when he began knocking. First up high. Then lower, until he was squatting on the floor.
“Do you hear that?” he asked, looking excited.
“Hear what?”
