Lexi can’t believe that for the second time in two days she’s about to march into Sam’s shop to yell at him, but here she is. This time, she doesn’t wait for the end of the day, when she might happen to be walking past his shop. This time, she barges straight out of Pemberley Books five minutes after Tessa’s gone upstairs and heads straight there, full of purpose, not a whiff of hesitancy about her.
When she pushes open the door, she’s devastated to see that Great Expectations is full of people, and some of them are even paging through romance novels. And is that Daniela in the corner? Daniela who always– always– comes to Lexi for book recommendations? It’s probably not the best time to conduct a cold-blooded, bare-handed murder of a rival. Maybe not even a good time to yell, but she can overlook that.
In the corner, a workman is measuring up a wall in a way that looks suspiciously like New Developments are being planned. The employee behind the counter looks nervously at Lexi, knowing exactly who she is and what’s at stake.
‘Hello,’ Lexi says, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. ‘Is Sam here?’
He exchanges a look with a colleague who’s shelving books. Lexi suspects they may have been warned to look out for her, to keep her at bay. She’s certainly not about to let that stop her.
‘He’s in the back,’ he says eventually.
Luckily, Lexi knows where the back is and how to get there, through a doorway behind the measuring workman.
‘It’s private back there,’ the shelving bookseller says, a note of panic in her voice. Perfect for a murder, then.
‘I won’t be a minute,’ she tells her. Honestly, Lexi is kind of impressed at her own boldness. She can imagine the booksellers exchanging another look. It makes her smile.
The backis tiny in this shop, so Sam is right there in front of her when she walks in.
‘Hello,’ she says.
‘H-i?’ He’s startled. She’s thrown him off by coming back here, into his sacred space. Good. For once, he’s the one on the back foot, standing awkwardly behind his desk. ‘You’re not meant to be back here.’
‘I know that. But I needed to yell at you, and this seems like an appropriate place to do that.’
He sighs, poor put-upon Sam. She can’t believe she ever thought he was hot, with his stupid green eyes and his stupid square jawline. ‘What have I done this time?’
‘Don’t get cute with me. You stole my marketing person.’
‘Ah.’
‘That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?Ah?’
‘All’s fair in love and capitalism.’
‘I hope you’re paying her well at least.’ Lexi has come as close to him as she can, with just the desk between them, not a hair’s width more. She can feel his breath on her face. She tries not think of how it felt on her neck. Or on the rest of her body.
‘I am, actually.’
‘Good. She deserves it.’
They’re standing facing each other, breathing hard. There’s all this anger, all this competitiveness, but also... something else. The hairs on Lexi’s arms are standing up in what she assumes is anger, though the dampness between her legs doesn’t feel much like anger. And, of course, she remembers the last time they were breathing this hard. She remembers it being under slightly more pleasant circumstances, with less dust and considerably fewer clothes. Sam’s face is increasingly pink; dollars to doughnuts he’s remembering it too. Lexi wonders what it says about her that as well as wanting to kill him, she also wants to rip his clothes off?
This is all very confusing for her. It must be the stress of worrying about the shop.
‘We’re really doing this, huh?’ he asks.
‘Doing what?’
‘This.’
Then he leans in and– what the heck?– kisses her.
Her body responds before her mind gets a chance to, guttural noises in the back of her throat betraying her, letting him know that as much as she’s tried to ignore it, she’s thought about him way too much in the last couple of days. Her vibrator, recently upgraded to one with several extra speeds, hasn’t come close to making up for the lack of him. The desk between them digs into her hips as she presses herself as close to him as she can get. They could so easily do the movie thing, sweep the paper off it, and put it to other uses.
But then the door behind them creaks, someone clears their throat, and they fall apart, caught like two schoolkids, breathing hard still, looking at each other as if daring each other to... what? Admit they missed each other? Admit the stupidity of this war?
But it’s not stupid. Sam knows how much the shop means to her. He knows how hard she’s worked to keep it not only afloat but thriving. And still he’s determined to wrest all this from her because... why? Because she used a few time-honoured tricks to get him to fall in love with her?
