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“Have you read all of these?” There had to be over a hundred books here, all non-fiction from what I could tell. It was like a small library.
“Of course.” His tone suggested it was a stupid question. He confirmed it by saying,“Why would I buy a book and not read it?”
“You’ve clearly never heard of a TBR, friend.” He seemed content to let me browse, so I edged closer, brushing the tip of my finger over a spine that readSapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, and settled on one simply namedSpace.
“TBR, it means To Be Read,” I continued, pullingAnatomy: A Human Sciencefrom the shelf and flipping the cover.“I’ve discovered that buying books and reading books are two completely different things.” I turned back to him, holding the book aloft.“What’s the coolest thing you’ve learnt from this?”
As quick as a gnat, he answered.“We’re about one centimetre taller in the morning than the evening. During the day, the soft cartilage between our joints and the vertebrae in our spines compress, making us smaller.”
I didn’t know what I’d expected… something more profound perhaps. The surprise made me laugh, and I continued flipping through the pages.“That doesn’t seem fair, some of us need all the height advantage we can get.”
He made ahmmsound at my joke and I returned to scouring the shelves. If he was allowing me to snoop, you could be damn sure I’d take advantage of it. I loved being nosey. Not in a gossipy way, but a childhood-stories, dusty-photo-albums kind of way. Other than the books and a photo of him and Kier with their arms wrapped around one another’s shoulders, Mal had nothing remotely personal lying around. It was like an Airbnb with no guests.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shifting a few steps to the DVDs.
“Why?”
“You tense every time I touch something.”
“I like things neat.”
“I know.” I made a show of using only my eyeballs when perusing his film collection. The man sure had eclectic taste. There were classics, foreign titles, sci-fi, straight-to-DVD titles, even a few romcoms. For some reason, Malcolm struck me as a three-hour war film kind of guy.
“I haven’t seen this one yet.” I pointed toThe Sixth Sensejust to fill the silence. Then I froze on one titledIndigo Ridge. I was in that movie—my very first feature film. It hadn’t been a big role, more of a blink-and-miss situation.Had he known I was in that movie when he bought it?I began to pull the DVD from the shelf and,forgetting it was alcohol in my glass, I took a massive gulp. Malcolm’s fingers caught it before I had it free and slid it back into its spot, startling me so completely I swallowed the entire mouthful.
My insides caught alight.
Holy crap.
Curling in on myself, I hacked with immediate regret. Coughing over and over until Malcolm had to steady me, plucking the tumbler from my fingers.
“You’re supposed to sip it.”
“A bit late for that,” I wheezed.“Shit, I think it’s in my lungs.”
“You’re all right.”
He carried my glass to the sink, added a few drops of water and returned as I was wiping tears from my cheeks.“That should be better.”
“I thought whisky was supposed to be drunk neat.”
He swirled his glass.“It can be enjoyed that way, but it started as nothing more than a ploy to sell more bottles. Kier had a great highball recipe you should try if you fancy something a wee bit sweeter.”
You can touch anything you want. Hold it on your tongue. Good girl… now swallow. If you fancy something a wee bit sweeter.He had to be kidding with this.
I swallowed, doing my best to ignore the rocking sensation in my stomach.“I’d love that.”
He shrugged.“It’s just a recipe.”
Perhaps. It felt more like a peace offering. Deciding that was the perfect lead-in, I said,“That would actually fit in perfectly with something I wanted to talk to you about.”
His brows winged up and he settled back against the table.
Assuming this was the only encouragement I would get, I forged ahead.“I popped into the old tasting room the other day—”
“No.”
I barked a surprised laugh.“You haven’t even let me finish.”
