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Well, she couldn’t wait any longer. Maybe she’d find a bookstore on the road when she stopped for gas. Pivoting on her heel, she started walking back to her car when a tall figure rounded the corner at the end of the block.
Her heart thumped against her ribs, as it always did when she first caught sight of the ridiculously sexy…er,strangebookstore owner, who’d shown up in Bliss Cove a year ago with no explanation or apparent reason for being here.
A few weeks after arriving, Sam Donovan had taken over Title Wave, which had been on the verge of shutting down, and quickly roused the ire of the town council with his erratic hours. His tendency to open and close Title Wave whenever he damned well pleased offended Mayor Bowers’ belief that all downtown businesses should adhere to a schedule.
In addition to making no effort to please the local officials, Sam had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in getting involved in town events. He did attend all the festivals—though based on Brooke’s observations, it was mostly for the food.
Despite the mayor’s and councilmembers’ disapproval, the townspeople were glad to have the bookstore remain open and, by unspoken agreement, they gave Sam both space and privacy.
He approached, an apple in his left hand and a folded newspaper section underneath his arm. He moved with a casual stride that belied the power coiled through his body. A shaft of sunlight broke through the gray clouds and burnished his dark hair with strands of gold.
Brooke suppressed a flicker of awareness. Despite his reclusiveness, a man couldn’tlooklike Sam Donovan and not inspire female curiosity.
He was tall, well over six feet, with strong features and thick hair that was perpetually finger-combed. While he often wore faded jeans and old, flannel shirts, the worn clothing seemed to enhance rather than detract from his muscular physique. With his stubbled jaw and messy hair, Sam Donovan was a striking example of scruffy masculine beauty.
Between his looks and his tendency to be a bit scowling and anti-social, he’d been compared to everyone from Heathcliff to Severus Snape to Mr. Darcy.
According to Bliss Cove’s Gossip Train, he didn’t appear to have a girlfriend. He’d also declined numerous matchmaking attempts from both Destiny and other women on the market for themselves or their daughters.
However, Brooke had heard that he’d been spotted having lunch with an attractive woman in Glendale last fall. According to the innkeeper, Mrs. Higgins, they “hadn’t just been whistling Dixie, if you know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, Brooke did know, and she’d experienced a sharp twinge of irritation at the idea of Sam “not whistling Dixie” with some random woman. Which didn’t make a lot of sense, since she had no claim on him.
Given his cranky tendencies, she didn’t want to stake one either, thank you. He’d repeatedly declined her requests for stories about the bookstore, he’d ordered her to delete several photos she’d taken of him at town festivals, he’d turned down her offer to help start author events and signings at Title Wave, and he’d refused to participate in the upcoming Bliss Cove Book Fair. Even though he owned the town’s onlybookstore.
In other words, he was like a thundercloud to her rainbow.
“What are you doing here?” His eyebrows snapped together.
“Good morning to you, too.” She gave him a bright smile, determined to be Sunny Side Up. “I’m here for the tango lessons.”
He frowned and shifted the paper to his other arm.
“I need some books, genius.” She indicated the window display. “Title Wave is supposed to open at nine.”
“Says who?”
“The world. Including the mayor and the town council.”
“Guess they’re wrong.” He pushed the door open. “We’re closed.”
“What do you mean, you’re closed? You just opened the door.”
“I’m not staying.” He pushed up his cuff to glance at the old analog watch on his wrist. “I just came to pick something up.”
“Well, can you spare ten minutes to actually operate your business?” Brooke lifted her hands in astonishment. “I need to purchase some of your stock. I’m acustomer.”
He expelled a sigh, as if wearied by the very idea of selling books. “Ten minutes. No longer.”
“You need to work on your salesmanship, Sam.” She brushed past him as he flicked on the interior lights. “You should try aromatherapy, like bergamot essential oil. It’s known for boosting your mood and promoting happiness.”
Before he could respond, she hurried toward the shelves. She stopped by the Self-Help section and began scanning the titles.
Despite his erratic hours, Sam took excellent care of the store. The shelves were always well stocked with both new titles and backlist, there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere, and the displays were neat and organized.
Brooke loaded half a dozen books into her arms and veered around the corner to the Romance section. Due to the job search, the holidays hadn’t given her much time for reading either.
She’d packed some of her personal favorite romance novels to bring to the cabin, but there were at least ten new releases that had been on her radar for weeks. She stacked them on her pile and made her way to the front counter.
