I clasp my hands together. “This is perfect.”
Specs looks up from whisking the eggs. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“Not much?” It’s a book lover’s dream. “It’s so cozy.”
He chuckles. “Cozy’s one word for it. It’s small. I don’t have a lot of company.”
I turn around, suddenly aware of taking up his space. “I’m intruding. I’m sorry. I can call Isabella…”
Specs waves a hand dismissively. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here. Isabella’s busy with the toddler, and the pregnancy…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t have to. I know how sick my friend’s been with this pregnancy. That’s why I didn’t call her. Well, it’s one of the reasons.
“You want one egg or two?” he calls from the kitchen.
“I’ll have two, please.”
“This won’t take me long. Make yourself comfortable.”
I wander over to the bookcase and let my fingers drift over the spines. He’s arranged them alphabetically by author. I arrange mine by the colors of the spine.
I pull out a copy ofEmmaby Jane Austen.
“You read Jane Austen?”
Specs shrugs. “I read everything. It’s a classic. I much preferPride and Prejudice.”
The fact that he reads Jane Austen make my chest squeeze. If I’m not careful, I could seriously fall for this man.
“Pride and Prejudiceis my favorite too. I can relate to Elizabeth more than any of her other heroines. And you can’t beat Darcy,” I add. “A classic hero. The original book boyfriend.”
Specs frowns a little, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was jealous.
“If you like that kind of thing,” he mumbles. “Bit too privileged for my liking.”
I take the copy ofEmmaand get comfy in the spare armchair. It’s an old version with thick brown paper and a tattered dust jacket. I open it carefully and begin to read.
We sit at the kitchen counter on barstools for lunch. The homemade bread is delicious, and the scrambled eggs have a handful of herbs mixed through.
“These are fresh eggs from my chooks out back,” he says. “My girls keep me company.”
“I love that you’ve got chickens.”
“What can I tell you? I’m a simple man. I like simple things.” He frowns. “I’m sorry it’s not what you’re used to.”
I set my fork down to look at him. “Paul, this is perfect. I love it. But... have you got room for me to stay?”
He put his hand over mine. “Of course there is, Cassie. You take the bed. There’s only one bedroom, but it’s yours.”
“Where will you sleep?” I glance around at the tiny living room with the two armchairs. There’s not even a couch.
“That’s a lazy boy,” he says, indicating the armchair by the bookcase. “I’ve dozed in that more than once.”
“I can’t kick you out of your bed.”
He shakes his head. “You’re not kicking me out, Cassie. You’re my guest. You need a place to stay. You take the bed. It’s yours for as long as you need it.”
He squeezes my hand, and heat prickles up my arm.
