Page 36 of The Bookshop By the Loch

Then Tobias spotted his uncle and they shared another odd handshake. Honestly! There were times when Tobias and Trevor made my family look like something out of a Disney movie.

Tobias disappeared out of the shop, appearing moments later carrying some personal possessions and what looked like a few knick-knacks. Amongst an assortment of pens poking out of a black chrome holder, tins of expensive-looking coffee and some Moleskine notebooks, was a Guardians of the Galaxy mug and a ceramic figure of cute little Groot.

When Tobias vanished out to assist the delivery driver to offload his paintings, Mum, still clutching her tea, came scurrying up to my shoulder. “My goodness. He’s very good-looking.”

A prickle of irritation shot through me. “Who? The lorry driver? Not my type, but hey, each to their own.”

Mum tutted. “Och, stop being daft, lassie. You know full well who I’m talking about.”

I busied myself with setting more books, a Scottish Escapes feel-good romance series, onto the shelves, which Grandpa continued to price up for me. “Oh, you mean Tobias? I suppose some women might find that arrogant, up-himself artist vibe attractive.”

I could tell Mum was trying not to smile. “But not you?”

I jerked my head up at my mother’s question and let out a ringing, theatrical burst of laughter. “Me? Are you joking?! Noooo! Goodness, no.”

“Jings! That fine young man looks just like I did back in my youth,” winked Grandpa, delivering another book onto the shelf in front of him. “Except I was even better-looking.”

I laughed, but became curious by the sight of a series of paintings emerging out of the open doors of the black lorry.

Tobias was striding backwards and forwards in his dark jeans. He had thrown off his leather jacket and I caught a glimpse of the red and black Ghost T-shirt he was wearing.

My eyes popped in surprise. He was a fan of the Swedish heavy rock band? At least he had great taste in music. I loved them.

I brushed aside my ponderings about his musical tastes and carried on with perusing more of the new book arrivals. I did my best to ignore him. He was probably hoping I would head over there and start oohing and aahing over his artwork. As if!

I was so preoccupied with the new novels; I took a step backwards. I found my feet faltering, spun round, but collided face-on with another person.

I barrelled into a solid chest.

Tobias was holding another piece of artwork, concealed by a loose canvas cover. It slid to the floor as we connected.

I forced my eyes upwards. “Oh, sorry.”

Tobias didn’t move. He was staring down at me, bathing me in the glow of his stare again.

He cleared his throat. “Apologies.”

I realised I was still standing there, looking up at him. Embarrassment took hold and I sprang away. I wrapped my arms tighter around the paperbacks I was holding and focused my attention on the bookshelves again.

Grandpa and Trevor were busy examining the gift cards and loyalty cards we’d ordered. My grandfather set one of the cards down, suddenly more interested in Tobias and me. A little smile played around his mouth, before he returned his attention to what he was doing.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye Tobias bending down and retrieving the piece of canvas cloth that had slid off from the painting he was holding. My attention fell on the picture.

It was a portrait of a little girl with long, fair hair and a straight fringe, gazing down at a small, brown teddy cradled in her arms. You could make out the flecks of cornflower blue in her eyes and the faint dusting of freckles across her snub little nose. It was as if I could feel the pink ripples in her silk dress and the ragged texture of her beloved bear’s ears. It was stunning.

The brush strokes were an alluring combination of deliberate, delicate and sweeping watercolours.

I couldn’t stifle my appreciation of the glorious portrait. It looked more like a photograph. “That’s gorgeous,” I breathed, nodding at the painting in his arms. “It’s almost as though I could reach out and touch her.”

For a moment, Tobias looked confused, thrown even. He followed my eyes to the framed painting he was clutching. “Oh. Right. Thank you.”

I admired the little girl’s freckles again. “How did you manage to paint something so beautiful?”

“Is that your not-so-subtle way of saying you couldn’t imagine an ogre like me being able to paint something like this?”

“No, of course not. I’m just a bit surprised.”

“I got that impression.”