Read Online The Bookshop on the Corner (A Gingerbread Cafe story) by Rebecca Raisin - Free Book Online

methods.
    “The article is all but done, Sarah. I’ll finish it off in the next few weeks, and it’ll be published in July some time.”
    Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t just here for the article. Call me cynical, but for some reason I couldn’t quite shake the fact Ridge was a reporter, and one who’d stumbled upon Ashford and found it newsworthy. It didn’t add up, but maybe I was reading too much into it.
    He continued: “So rest assured I’m not here to grill you.”
    “I see.” Why did words fail me in times of need?
    “Can I ask you on a proper date, Sarah? A walk through the woods, and a picnic tomorrow?”
    A date! If I stopped second-guessing everything, I had to admit, the attraction between us seemed to sizzle, and, as whimsical and reserved as I might come across, even I couldn’t deny there was something magical in the air. The way his hands hovered, when he stared into my eyes, as if he wanted to hold me. It was just that Ridge was all practised charm, and too smooth. How did I know that he didn’t treat all women this very same way?
    I knew my voice would come out like a choked sob in my nervousness, so I took some time pretending to consider the offer, by scratching my chin, and looking, I hoped, contemplative. Or perhaps like a science professor. That was attractive, right?
    Stalling for time, I said, “You’re staying in Ashford tonight?”
    He nodded. “At that little B and B just outside of town. Pretty picket fences, lots of lace, and floral-covered everything, you know the one?”
    I laughed, imagining Ridge ensconced at Begonia Bed and Breakfast. To put it politely, the B and B was stuck in a time warp. Rose, the owner, was everything you could imagine her to be: seventy, smiley, a really bad cook, and immensely loveable. “Yes, cute place.”
    “So?” he pushed, arching his eyebrows like a man-model.
Do not start picturing him in Y-fronts.
White Y-fronts, with one finger resting behind the fabric, with the sun behind him in an empty room with wood floors…
    I did the I’ve-just-run-out-of-the-sea shake to push the semi-naked vision away. “I’ll think about it.” I managed to sound casual, though my heat was racing, and my hands shaking. It had been years since I dated, except for the silent dinner with Billie; there had been no one who had interested me. Ashford wasn’t exactly teeming with men. As dramatic as it sounded, I just felt like a fool when it came to love; when you were so far gone with someone, and you couldn’t switch it off like a tap, then how could you protect yourself? It was easier to live vicariously through books.
    “OK, I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
    I took a deep breath in, turning away in case my nostrils flared like a dragon. I could do this. One date. Just to prove he wasn’t the right guy for me. One date.
    He ran a finger along my arm, and I was grateful my face was hidden so he didn’t see my eyes widen. “Let’s go inside. I think they’re waiting.”
    The clatter of cutlery wove its way to us. “I’m starving,” I said. Ridge clasped my hand as if we were already a couple and pulled me through the doorway.
    ***
    CeeCee pointed to a chair. “That’s your seat, Sarah.” She smirked at me as I sat next to Ridge’s heavenly scented presence.
    “You two lovebirds need any help?” CeeCee boomed, pulling me back to the present. For a second I thought she meant Ridge and me and I went to speak, catching myself just in time.
    Damon and Lil buzzed around, filling platters with delectable morsels they conjured up as though it were a simple thing, and not food that had taken most of the day to prepare.
    “These,” said Lil, carefully placing a ceramic dish on the dining-room table, “are baby sweet peppers, stuffed with a mix of pancetta, and ricotta and parmesan, and a few secret ingredients for some wow factor, so go on and try them and tell me what you think.”
    The baby peppers were the color of traffic lights: red, orange and