Page 8 of The F*ck-It List

“There’ll be other places, August.” With that, he steps around me and walks casually in the opposite direction to the way he was trying to run, and I’m left standing on the pavement with Darcy sat patiently at my feet. Yeah, there are other places, but not in Port Doone, the only place I’d want to start my business. No, the only chance I had at fulfilling that dream is now occupied by a pink haired ray of fucking sunshine.

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No. 13: Face a foe

Bea

“Ithink we can safely cross another one off the list,” Cas says, settling under the covers in my bed, a cup of hot chocolate cradled between their palms.

“Number five is complete,” I agree, my own cocoa resting on my bent knees, held steady with one hand on the cup handle. I use my free hand to put a tick in the box next to the item on my ‘Fuck-It list.’ “I moved to the countryside.”

“You sure fucking did.” Cas smiles at me and knocks their mug into mine. “Now, we work on number six.”

“Number six,” I say, reading off my list. “Open a book themed café.”

Cas smiles at me indulgently. “You really are an adorkable little nerd girl, aren’t you?”

I grin back. “I like tothink so.”

With a snort and a sip of hot chocolate, they switch to business mode. “Okay, so tell me what we have to do to before I leave.”

“I have a team coming tomorrow morning to fit the new kitchen,” I say, holding up one finger to list things off. “A carpenter coming in the afternoon to build the new counter. I need to find tables and chairs and maybe speak to the local businesses about supplying to the café.”

“Woah,” Cas huffs with a whistle. “That’s a lot for two days.”

I shrug, unconcerned. “We’ll get it done.”

“I wish to remind you I have used my precious annual leave to help you; do I get at least one moment of relaxation?”

“What are we doing right now?” I pointedly raise my hot chocolate and gesture at my bed. The rest of my new home is in chaos with boxes strewn here, there, and everywhere. Some half unpacked and some stacked precariously on whatever available surface there was. But Cas suggested we at least got my bedroom properly unpacked and set up so I have somewhere comfy and cosy to retreat to at night after I try and settle into my new life during the day. Cas did a great job of doing just that, the brand-new sheets they bought me as a moving in gift are sinfully soft and a rich, deep blue with a silvery quilted blanket. They built my flatpack wardrobe and hung my favourite prints on my wall, all scene art from my favourite fantasy books.

The property my agent found for me is perfect, everything I said I wanted. Not only did I get the village shop, which has a great square footage and plumbed in for a kitchen, but it was being sold with the cottage next door. A beautiful, sixteenth century, one bed cottage with a huge fireplace downstairs and wonky stone walls with ancient oak beams. It’s one room downstairs and one bedroom with an attached bathroom upstairs. It’s tiny but it’s still slightly bigger than myLondon flat and a fraction of the price. Thanks to my inheritance, I’ve managed to keep my old flat, renting it out in case this venture into the country is wildly unsuccessful and I need to supplement my income.

“Neighbours seem nice,” Cas says with pointed side eye, holding their cup to their lips.

“Oh yeah,” I say with a smile. “Eli gave me loads of information, I still can’t get over the butcher’s is called Baker’s and the bakery is called Butcher’s.” I giggle a little and sip my drink, loving the sweet chocolate. I’d normally only have hot chocolate as a treat at Christmas, but despite it being early May, the stone walls and hard flooring in my new house mean it’s considerably cooler in the evening than my modern flat back in London. A steaming mug of comfort cocoa is definitely needed.

“Mmhmm,” Cas hums, like they don’t think I’m telling them everything.

“Joanie was funny,” I say with a nod. “I liked her.”

“Uh huh.”

I know what I’m about to say next. Cas knows what I’m going to say next. But a little flutter of nervous excitement tickles at my belly in the same way it’s always done since I got my first crush in Primary school. “That August guy is hot, right?”

“There it is,” Cas says with satisfaction.

“But he is! You’ve got to agree.”

“I can’t argue with you. Eli is fucking beautiful, I could do bad things with that man, but August definitely has the sexy grump thing about him.”

They’re not wrong. Not that grumpy is my type at all, but August was definitely working for me this afternoon. I have honestly nevermet someone so tall; he was at least a foot taller than my five seven. Dark hair slightly too long, curling around his ears and the rough of his jaw was between stubble and a beard, like he’s not been bothered to groom his facial hair but also hasn’t shaved in a few days. His nose is slightly crooked like maybe it had been broken once and not quite set right, and one of his heavy eyebrows has a small scar through it. Does he box or something? That would be hot. It was when his arms folded over his chest and tested the hem of his short sleeves, I knew I was crushing. But I haven’t moved here to start a new life for myself just to start a new relationship.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Something pretty to look at while I’m getting settled, I guess.”

“Maybe he could help you out with some of the moreinterestingitems on your list.” Cas waggles their bleached eyebrows that match their hair at me.

I glare at them. “You interfered with my list. Those are not items I will be looking to cross off with the sexy mountain or anyone, thank you very much.” I take a haughty sip of cocoa.