After ordering their food and grabbing Elle’s and Pippa’s usual table in the corner of the pub they sat down with their drinks.
‘Is everyone here this friendly?’ asked Aiden. ‘If so, I think I’m going like it very much here.’
‘They are,’ replied Elle.
‘Tell me all about this book club.’
‘It’s the place that cemented our friendship.’ Pippa said with a huge smile on her face.
‘Tell me more.’
‘It’s walking distance for you,’ said Pippa. ‘It takes place at Bonnie’s Teashop every Thursday evening and is run by Mim. We read and discuss all genres of books.’
‘We also drink lots of tea and eat copious amounts of cake. Rona bakes the most delicious Victoria sponge.’
‘It all sounds very civilised,’ Aiden mused, sitting up straight and moving his drink out of the way so the waitress could place three plates of pie and chips on the table.
Pippa picked up a chip and blew on it before popping it into her mouth.
‘That’s hot.’ She wafted her hand in front of her mouth and quickly took a swig of beer before taking the pastry off the top of her pie and placing it on the side of her plate.
‘Are you eating that?’ Elle asked her as she took the brown sauce and vinegar from the waitress, who’d just returned.
‘Of course! I’m saving the best bit until last.’
‘So do you have any favourite authors then?’ Aiden asked. ‘I know that’s a huge question for librarians. You must have quite a few favourites.’
‘Sam Stone,’ Elle and Pippa chorused in unison. ‘It’s a no-brainer,’ added Elle. ‘But from all the research I’ve done to find out more about him I’ve deduced that he’s very reclusive. Other than his books, there’s no information about him.’
‘That’s not that odd though. Authors don’t necessarily crave the limelight, they just want to tell their stories,’ Aiden offered with a shrug.
‘Maybe that’s true. He shies away from interviews too,’ Pippa said.
‘His work obviously speaks volumes to many,’ replied Aiden.
Elle tucked into her food and watched Aiden and Pippa chatting away. She already knew that Aiden was a great addition to their team, he’d slotted in instantly and was very easy to be around. She knew that Pippa thought so too because she was hanging on his every word.
‘And who is your favourite author?’ asked Pippa, taking a swig of beer. Aiden didn’t think about it for long. ‘That’s not difficult for me at all,’ he stated. ‘Noah Jones.’
Elle began to splutter, choking on her food.
Immediately Pippa turned towards her and began to pat her back like she was a child. ‘You okay?’ she asked.
‘Sorry, my food just went down the wrong way,’ Elle said, embarrassed, taking a sip of her drink and trying to curb the coughing.
‘Are you sure you’re okay? Your cheeks look a little flushed.’
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ replied Elle, knowing that it wasn’t the food but the thought of Noah that had her blushing uncontrollably.
‘And what makes Noah Jones your absolute favourite?’ asked Pippa, looking back towards Aiden.
Elle was half listening to their conversation whilst thoughts of Noah Jones flooded her mind.
She had met him on July the fifteenth last year. On a whim, Irene had contacted the bestselling author through his website and asked if he would host a writing workshop at the library. Irene was amazed when he agreed. The charming – not to mention utterly handsome – Noah Jones had Elle completely flustered from the moment he stepped into the library. She was mesmerised by how utterly gorgeous he was and had to remind herself to breathe. His features were perfect, he was slim and muscular, and his tight white T-shirt had shown off his broad shoulders and strong arms.
He was also warm and funny and completely down to earth. They got on like a house on fire as Elle acted as his assistant for the afternoon. The humour bounced back and forth between them, they caught each other’s eye on numerous occasions and Elle felt a spark between them, so much so that she’d found herself praying for time to stand still.
When the workshop had finished, she had been left alone with him. She’d started to collect the handouts left on the desk, and knew he was watching her the whole time. When Elle handed them over, her fingers had brushed against his, leaving her with a fluttering in the pit of her stomach. They were inches apart, his eyes locked on hers, the attraction raw.
