“Do you think Mom would like it here in Oregon?”
“I am sure of it. What about you? Are you liking it?”
“I liked looking in the tide pools today. That was fun. And I like Rosie and Olive. They’re nice.”
After he finished tucking in Finn, he checked on Zara, who was rereading one of her favorite horse books.
“Did you have a good day, kiddo?”
“I guess. The pizza was good. I really love Rosie’s dog, Dottie. She’s so cute. Can we get a dog?”
At least she wasn’t asking to get a horse. Yet. “Maybe once we’re moved into the main house,” he said.
After kissing her good-night, he headed into the kitchen to set up his laptop. Rosie had apparently made a big impression on his children. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
She had also made an impression on him. He definitely knew he wasn’t thrilled about his instinctive reaction to her. What was it about the woman that intrigued him so much? She didn’t like his books. That alone should be enough to keep her at arm’s length.
Despite that, he liked her, far more than he should.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts of Rosie. He had too many other things to worry about. He was woefully behind schedule, and the pressure was mounting. Every day that passed without significant progress only ratcheted up the stress.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he pushed thoughts of warm green eyes and a quick wit from his mind. He had a story to tell, characters to bring to life. That was his priority. It had to be.
Taking a deep breath, he began to type, the gentle tapping of keys filling the quiet kitchen. As the words began to flow, he felt a sense of relief wash over him. This was what he needed to concentrate on. His work, his family, his new life here.
Everything else, including any budding interest in a certain auburn-haired neighbor, would have to wait. He had responsibilities, deadlines and two young lives depending on him. Those were the things that truly mattered, and he couldn’t afford to lose sight of that.
Chapter Seven
Emma
The job ahead of her was overwhelming.
Emma looked at the stacks and stacks of boxes and tried not to panic. This was her first real chance to make progress in cleaning out the bookstore and she had so much to do, she didn’t quite know where to start.
All week long, she and her staff had been boxing up books in preparation for the town’s street fair sidewalk sale that would start the next morning and run throughout the next week.
She was really hoping to get rid of a lot of the extra inventory, especially dusty tomes that were twenty or thirty years old and should have been cleared out years ago.
She was all for having a large inventory. Reading tastes varied and not everyone enjoyed the same book. A good bookstore tried to cater to everyone.
But readers also needed to be able to find what they were looking for without having to wade through overcrowded shelves stacked two or three deep with outdated titles.
They also needed an environment for shopping that was pleasant and organized, not a wild jumble where nothing made any sense. She planned to clear out the extra inventory then move out the shelves so she could paint behind them.
It might take her all night, but her mom had agreed to feed Olive and put her to bed so Emma could make some progress.
She didn’t mind hard work. She had a goal and needed to demonstrate to her mother she was capable.
She was immersed in her work, a fascinating audiobook playing through her earbuds, when she heard a knock.
She glanced at the large clock above the checkout counter. She had ordered a pizza for her dinner but hadn’t expected it for another ten or fifteen minutes.
Maybe they were having a slow night.
She had left instructions for the pizza to be delivered at the rear door but maybe that message didn’t make it across to the driver.
She hurried around a bookshelf to the front of the store as she heard a second knock.