Page 118 of The Bookshop By the Loch

“When I’m about to start painting an actual portrait, I set up my palette and rub the canvas with a neutral oil medium. That means that the linen is slightly saturated and the canvas tends to receive the paint from my brush more easily.”

He returned to looking at his pencil sketch. He raised his gaze again. “I like all the edges to be soft in my work – like where the hair touches the skin.”

I bit back a ball of something in my throat. It was as if the air was being sucked from my body. How could he do that? Make an innocent remark sound so erotic?

I risked a look at him, expecting him to be focused on his sketch pad, but he wasn’t. He was studying me from under those intent, dark brows. He shifted as he sat there. “It was because of a failed relationship.”

“Sorry?”

The captivating ballad had finished and morphed into a rockier track.

Tobias hesitated. “Why I decided to move back to Bracken Way.” He shrugged. “I found out just over a year ago that my then-girlfriend was having an affair with my now ex-business partner. My ex-girlfriend is an artist too.” Tobias’s mouth hitched up at one corner. “I thought I’d managed to put it all behind me, but then she goes and shows up again, begs me to take her back, starts texting and phoning, turning up at the gallery I owned in Glasgow all the time.” His voice tailed off and he gave a dry smile. “I think she was missing the lifestyle rather than me.”

I processed what he was revealing to me. “And you decided to get away?”

“Yep. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I no longer have feelings for her, but I didn’t need the hassle.”

I opened my mouth and was about to say something.

“You’re moving again!” he called, startling me.

“Oh! Oh shit!”

In slow motion, my cup jumped in my hands. I scrambled to catch it, but my fingers tumbled over one another. Thankfully, the coffee wasn’t as hot as it had been ten minutes ago.

The white cup upended on my lap, sending its dark beige contents spilling all over my tangerine summer dress. “Bugger! Bugger!”

Tobias dumped his sketch pad on the chair he was sitting in and dashed over to me. He ordered Alexa to turn off. “Are you alright? You’re not burned, are you?”

He crouched down in front of me, before racing through to his black and chrome kitchen. Seconds later, he returned with a clean cloth, soaked in cold water.

“I hope it didn’t go on your furniture.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the sofa. I’m more concerned about you.”

I accepted the cloth from him. “I’m fine. The coffee was cool.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

I dabbed at my dress, trying to soak up the worst of the coffee stain. I jerked my head up. Tobias was crouching in front of me. I appreciated his full, quirky mouth.

He continued to gaze at me. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” I squeaked.

Our lips were inches apart now and neither of us were in any hurry to pull away. Then something nudged at the corners of my mind. It wouldn’t leave. It was gnawing at me. What about the almost kiss from before?

What about that female voice I heard that night, talking to Tobias and offering him wine? I remembered the hurt and jealousy jabbing at me and it threatened to strike again.

Guilt took hold of me. “Wine woman,” I murmured. Aloud. Oh shit! Great! I blushed beetroot and couldn’t look at him. I must have sounded like an utter idiot!

Tobias looked confused. “Sorry?”

I pulled back from him and dragged an embarrassed hand through my loose hair. Me and my big mouth! I had to tell him, otherwise he’d think I was crazy. “When I spoke to you one evening a few weeks back, there was a woman’s voice in the background, talking to you about wine.” I cringed. “Oh God. I must sound like a suspicious, moody teenager. I’m sorry.”

Tobias frowned for a few seconds, before his face cleared. “Hang on. She didn’t call me Tobes by any chance?”

I nodded, as I continued to dab at my dress. I couldn’t look him in the eye.