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George blew out a breath. “It’s a fine idea, Pen, but are you sure you can convince the council to go along with it?”

Pen shrugged. “We can but try. And you’re going to help.”

George picked up both coffees. “Of course I am.” He pushed the shop door open with an elbow and Fabio sneaked out of the gap. George sighed. “She’ll send him back again,” he warned.

Pen felt a tingle of warmth. “I’ll come and get him a bit later,” she said. It would give her a chance to bring Ash some of the Battenberg cake she’d been working on.

IT WAS AFTER lunch by the time Pen had time to leave a note on the bakery door and take a small box to the bookshop.

“Oh no,” Ash said, when Pen walked in.

“Oh no?” Pen asked lightly. Not really the reaction she’d been hoping for.

“I thought we talked about this. There’s no need to drop by all the time.”

“I bought cake,” Pen said temptingly.

“If I ate cake every day I’d be the size of a house,” Ash said. She turned back to the computer screen. “Come back when you’ve got something to tell me about buying the shop.”

“I’ll just leave this here then, shall I?” Pen said, putting the box on the shop counter and catching a quick glimpse of Ash’s computer screen. “Oh, I used that site once. Me and my cousin did a family tree for my uncle’s birthday.”

“Right, well maybe you know how to add a record then,” Ash said, turning the screen. “I keep getting an error like this.”

“That’s because you haven’t filled in the title box at the top,” Pen said. “Here, let me.” She typed quickly and pressed the ‘add record’ button. “There you go.”

“Huh,” Ash said. “Thanks.”

“No problem, happy to help.”

Ash turned to her, eyes dark blue and nose sharp and Pen could just kiss her in the early afternoon light. “And is there something I can help you with? Other than gossip, attempts to feed me cake, or things of the like?”

Pen caught a glance of Fabio. “I came for the cat. He escaped.”

“Oh, good.” Ash looked a bit unsettled and Pen had to smile again. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I’ll try,” Pen said. “But this is his home, he doesn’t seem to want to be anywhere else.” She cleared her throat. “And on the subject of the shop, George and I have had an idea about finding funding. Nothing concrete yet, but I wanted to let you know that we are working on it.”

“Good,” said Ash. She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

She’s just not used to living in a small town, Pen reminded herself. She’s not used to being a part of a community. A little patience, a little time, and she would get used to it, maybe even grow to like it. And then, said a little voice at the back of her head, she might even want to stay.

“Um, yes, actually,” Pen found herself saying. “There’s a pub just down the road, just on the sea front, you can’t miss it.”

“I haven’t missed it. I’m not blind,” Ash said, attention on her computer screen.

“Yes, well, there’s a sing-along tonight. I’ll be there. George too. If you fancied coming?”

Ash finally turned her full attention to Pen. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Do you?”

Pen sighed. “I suppose not,” she said. She took a breath. “I’ll be going then.”

“Mmm,” said Ash.

Maybe she really was as cold as George said she was. Pen went out into the sunshine. It was only when she got back to the bakery that she realized she hadn’t even asked Ash what she was doing on the genealogy website.

Chapter Thirteen

Ash sighed and closed the final page of the book. She contemplated throwing it at the wall but decided that would probably be bad form for a bookshop owner, however temporary she might be. It just wasn’t… satisfying. Okay, so the couple had beat their obstacles, fallen in love, but so what? She’d finished the book only because she hadn’t wanted to leave it incomplete.