Love Between the Lines ✔️ DRAFT 1 COMPLETE

Chapter 5

Ten minutes later, I met Fionn downstairs. In my absence, he'd donned a plaid scarf that now hung around his neck.

"Shall we?" He motioned to the door with his hands spread out in front of him.

I nodded and we walked in silence down the empty streets until we got to a small shop on a corner a few blocks away from the bookstore.

"Maidin mhaith, Fionn!" the woman behind the counter greeted him. Seeing me, she added, "Good morning!" before continuing to address him. "The usual?"

"Aye, thank you Martha. And a um"—he turned to me—"what would you like?"

"Um, americano, please," I said.

Fionn shook his head and muttered under his breath, "American tourists."

I glared at him. "Yes, we're so high maintenance, aren't we?"

That seemed to shut him up for a minute but didn't stop the grin that etched its way onto his face or the amusement that shone in his eyes.

While the woman made our drinks, Fionn led me over to a table by the window and we sat down. The shop was cozy, with tile floors and soft music playing in the background.

"So, do you have any experience with running a bookstore?" Fionn asked as Martha set down two teacups in front of us.

"You could say that." I sipped at my coffee, jumping back and wincing as the liquid burnt my tongue. Water brimmed my eyes, and I turned away to cough and catch my breath. Once I regained my composure, I continued, "I'm the assistant manager of a library in the states."

"Hmm." Fionn eyed me, twirling a thick silver band on his right hand.

"What?"

"I wouldn't have thought you were a librarian."

"Well, we all have our talents." This time, I blew on my drink before attempting another sip. The liquid had cooled a little, relief in my throat as it warmed my body.

He smirked and pulled a pen out of his pocket before scribbling on a napkin. "So as a librarian you would know the basics of running a bookstore."

"Assistant manager. And yes." I glanced at the napkin where Fionn was still writing something down, the words in black ink mixing with an image beneath them. "What's that?"

"Nothing important." He brushed off the question. "Alright, well you know that part of the deal to staying here is running the store. You'll be responsible for helping customers, organizing shelves, all of that."

"Yes."

Fionn leaned back in his seat. "You know, most of the folks who come here are on vacation."

"I am on vacation," I said, frowning.

He laughed. "And yet, you're agreeing to do the same work you would at home. Why is that?"

I shrugged. "I enjoy the work. And it's not every day you get a ticket to Scotland."

"Hmm." Fionn returned to his drink. Black tea by the scent, a lovely earthy aroma.

We sat in silence for a while longer with me staring into my coffee as Fionn considered me carefully. The clock on the wall ticked a mellow cadence that would've otherwise lulled me to sleep...if I hadn't chosen an espresso-based drink.

My fingers drummed lightly against the table and my heart beat loudly in my chest. What were we supposed to do now? Fionn had returned to his napkin, the ink from his pen turning the white paper into an image of something I couldn't quite make out.