“Show me your ways, oh Lord, teach me Your paths.”
~ Psalm 25:4
1
“There’s just not enough room in here, Ali.” Josie Parker dropped a carton of books on the floor and straightened with a sigh as she blew a wisp of cropped sable hair from her eyes. Not one sliver of the tile she’d polished to a gleaming shine the night before peeked from beneath boxes stacked three-high. “I feel like an elephant in a teacup. I’ll never find space to display all this week’s inventory.”
“That’s not exactly a bad problem to have, is it?” Ali Hawkins jostled her son Rory on one hip as she sipped a double-shot espresso. Her blonde hair, tugged into a sleek ponytail, shimmered beneath the shop lights as Rory worked a tiny thumb into his mouth and began to suckle. “Maybe it’s time to expand Posts and Pages. You’ve talked about growing the bookstore for more than a year now.”
“I know.” Josie nudged another unopened carton that lay scattered among an army strewn across the cluttered floor. She lifted wire-rimmed reading glasses from her nose and propped them on her head. “And I’ve burrowed away more than enough savings over the past few years, since I opened this place. I just need a builder who’s willing to take on the job. Last I checked, Willow Lake has slim pickings in that department.”
“True…unless you want to hire John Larder’s cousin and pay double for half of the work—shoddy to boot.” Ali frowned. “He seems to have a huge corner of the market—not surprising since John’s on the town council now and oversees construction permits inside Willow Lake’s city limits.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to throw my hard-earned cash into a money pit just to appease John Larder— or his overbearing cousin.” Stewart Simms had been coming around Posts and Pages a little too often lately, dropping hints about how he’d find a way to cut her a design and construction deal if she’d only “work with him.” Josie shivered. She’d rather have her eye teeth yanked out with pliers than spend one hour alone in Stewart’s presence. “I’ll just have to decrease stock—or get rid of the coffee bar.”
“Bite your tongue.” Ali shuddered and clutched the espresso cup to her chest. “And disappoint all your loyal customers—like me?”
“Do you have any other ideas?”
“Who says the builder has to come from Willow Lake? Perhaps there’s a way to circumvent Stewart Simms. Look there.” Ali motioned toward a stack of Homes Today magazines piled high on the coffee bar. “I think I may have found the perfect solution to your problem.”
Josie glanced in the direction Ali pointed and gasped as her gaze captured the glossy image on the magazine’s cover. Her breath whooshed out as her belly fluttered. “Oh, my.”
“Oh my, is right.” Ali chuckled, nestling Rory to her side as she navigated a path through the littered floor. “Mason Donovan has made his mark in the world.”
“Mason Donovan…” Josie bent to retrieve a copy of the magazine. Her pulse raced as she drank in the image of him clad in faded Levi’s and a flannel shirt, sleeves rolled to expose sinuous muscles along his forearms. A hardhat and scuffed work boots only served to improve his rugged good looks, and the tool belt slung low along his hips kicked her pulse into next week. “Is that really him?”
“In the flesh…well, sort of.” Ali laughed. “Kind of takes you back in time, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t believe…” Josie flipped through the pages, quickly scanning a generous article strategically placed at the core of the magazine. “It says he’s working out of Atlanta.”
“Not too far from here…not too far at all.” Ali winked, her laughing green eyes full of mischief. “You know, Josie, he always had a thing for you.”
“He did not. We were just…sort of friends.” Josie shrugged, though the very idea sent a flush of warmth through her belly. She’d longed for
~ Psalm 25:4
1
“There’s just not enough room in here, Ali.” Josie Parker dropped a carton of books on the floor and straightened with a sigh as she blew a wisp of cropped sable hair from her eyes. Not one sliver of the tile she’d polished to a gleaming shine the night before peeked from beneath boxes stacked three-high. “I feel like an elephant in a teacup. I’ll never find space to display all this week’s inventory.”
“That’s not exactly a bad problem to have, is it?” Ali Hawkins jostled her son Rory on one hip as she sipped a double-shot espresso. Her blonde hair, tugged into a sleek ponytail, shimmered beneath the shop lights as Rory worked a tiny thumb into his mouth and began to suckle. “Maybe it’s time to expand Posts and Pages. You’ve talked about growing the bookstore for more than a year now.”
“I know.” Josie nudged another unopened carton that lay scattered among an army strewn across the cluttered floor. She lifted wire-rimmed reading glasses from her nose and propped them on her head. “And I’ve burrowed away more than enough savings over the past few years, since I opened this place. I just need a builder who’s willing to take on the job. Last I checked, Willow Lake has slim pickings in that department.”
“True…unless you want to hire John Larder’s cousin and pay double for half of the work—shoddy to boot.” Ali frowned. “He seems to have a huge corner of the market—not surprising since John’s on the town council now and oversees construction permits inside Willow Lake’s city limits.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to throw my hard-earned cash into a money pit just to appease John Larder— or his overbearing cousin.” Stewart Simms had been coming around Posts and Pages a little too often lately, dropping hints about how he’d find a way to cut her a design and construction deal if she’d only “work with him.” Josie shivered. She’d rather have her eye teeth yanked out with pliers than spend one hour alone in Stewart’s presence. “I’ll just have to decrease stock—or get rid of the coffee bar.”
“Bite your tongue.” Ali shuddered and clutched the espresso cup to her chest. “And disappoint all your loyal customers—like me?”
“Do you have any other ideas?”
“Who says the builder has to come from Willow Lake? Perhaps there’s a way to circumvent Stewart Simms. Look there.” Ali motioned toward a stack of Homes Today magazines piled high on the coffee bar. “I think I may have found the perfect solution to your problem.”
Josie glanced in the direction Ali pointed and gasped as her gaze captured the glossy image on the magazine’s cover. Her breath whooshed out as her belly fluttered. “Oh, my.”
“Oh my, is right.” Ali chuckled, nestling Rory to her side as she navigated a path through the littered floor. “Mason Donovan has made his mark in the world.”
“Mason Donovan…” Josie bent to retrieve a copy of the magazine. Her pulse raced as she drank in the image of him clad in faded Levi’s and a flannel shirt, sleeves rolled to expose sinuous muscles along his forearms. A hardhat and scuffed work boots only served to improve his rugged good looks, and the tool belt slung low along his hips kicked her pulse into next week. “Is that really him?”
“In the flesh…well, sort of.” Ali laughed. “Kind of takes you back in time, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t believe…” Josie flipped through the pages, quickly scanning a generous article strategically placed at the core of the magazine. “It says he’s working out of Atlanta.”
“Not too far from here…not too far at all.” Ali winked, her laughing green eyes full of mischief. “You know, Josie, he always had a thing for you.”
“He did not. We were just…sort of friends.” Josie shrugged, though the very idea sent a flush of warmth through her belly. She’d longed for
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