The Little Bookshop of Love Stories: A gorgeous feel good romance to escape with this summer! by Jaimie Admans

Author:Jaimie Admans [Admans, Jaimie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008331221
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-05-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 11

‘I bought you something,’ Dimitri says when I let him in at half past eight a few mornings later. I’ve noticed he’s been coming earlier and earlier every day, which is fine because I’ve been getting down to the shop floor earlier every day too. It’s impossible to lie in bed ignoring the alarm clock like I used to when there’s the prospect of seeing him and finding more messages hidden in books.

‘Well, made you something. Call it a prototype for the art prints I’m going to sell here. I thought I could do them about favourite books, with an image and a relevant line, and I could offer bespoke ones that people could order if they wanted a really individual gift for someone special …’

I’m unable to stop myself smiling as I pile more books onto the counter from the window display I’m in the middle of emptying. I love how much he’s getting into this. I thought someone of his talent and a soon-to-be published author would be above handmade prints for a little bookshop.

He pulls an A4-sized canvas frame out of his bag, puts it on the counter and unwraps the cloth protecting it, keeping the reverse side turned towards me. I reach out to turn it around and he pulls away like a jolt of static electricity has sparked as our fingers brush.

And I can’t hide the intake of breath. It’s the most beautiful drawing I’ve ever seen. A mix of watercolours and charcoal depicting a scene from Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume, my favourite book. There’s the silhouette of a girl sitting on a rock overlooking a canyon, and the words ‘Cuando los lagartijos corren’ written across the orange-to-mulberry ombré sky above her.

I burst into tears.

They’re the words that Wolf says to Davey in the book to give her hope to hold on to, something to look forward to when he goes away. It means that he’ll see her again in the springtime ‘when the lizards run’. They’re words I repeated to myself in my head many times in the difficult years after my father died, despite the fact we lived in the Cotswolds and there were no canyons and certainly no lizards.

And he has no way of knowing that and yet somehow, he knows that.

Horror floods his face. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have. I knew I was overstepping the mark because you said it was personal to you and you didn’t share it with anyone and I had no business—’

I jump out from behind the counter and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him down for an enforced hug while I try to furtively swipe my hands across my cheeks and not snivel in his ear. ‘You are the kindest, loveliest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met in my life. That’s the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen.’

‘I’ve never wanted anyone to like something as much as I wanted you to like that.’ His whole body sags with relief and we both stumble, glad there’s a bookshelf there to stop us hitting the deck.

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