An Unexpected Kind of Love by Hayden Stone

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Late the next morning, I awaken in a tangle of limbs, plastered against Blake’s chest. God, what a fabulous way to wake up. His chest rises and falls. I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to spoil this moment if I’m still dreaming. But as the day starts to drift more fully into my consciousness, it turns out to be true when I open my eyes.

I really did find Blake.

I can’t help but smile thinking about last night. The strange twilight with Blake appearing outside of my shop. Feeling like my heart might break or burst at any moment. The euphoria at realizing he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

Our insatiable night.

And now, he’s here. Gently, I nip at his jaw and he stirs awake, sleepy-eyed and beautiful—and mine.

The smile he gives me when he wakes is brilliant, filling some gap within me at the thrill of him beside me.

“Best morning ever,” he whispers drowsily, holding me close.

I kiss him thoroughly in response. He’s delicious against my tongue.

My limbs are heavy with our exertion last night. Well worth it, every ache this morning. This is probably where athletes have the advantage at marathon sex, but I’ll do my best to keep up.

“So,” Blake says, tracing my shoulder, “what’re we going to do today?”

Sleepily, I rub my eyes. Between the night of sex, the jet lag, and the stress, I’m still thoroughly wrecked. But reality encroaches, even so.

“I need to see what Gemma’s done to the shop,” I blurt instantly, sitting up.

Blake laughs, grinning up at me. He traces my spine, giving me shivers.

“Probably a shower first,” I concede.

“Probably for the best.” Blake kisses me and it’s so tempting to go back to bed with him and pretend everything else doesn’t exist.

“You’re really here? You won’t disappear?”

“I promise I won’t disappear.” His mouth yields against mine.

Contented, I sigh. “’Kay.”

With reluctance, I get up and go to the shower and start the familiar rituals of getting ready for the day. Blake takes his turn and I’ll never tire of the sight of him clad only in a towel, the thrill of his fine physique.

When I come back upstairs with two cups of tea—made the proper way—I see Blake browsing the poetry book that he returned those weeks ago in the height of summer. He gives me a bemused look, glancing up.

“I see you found my note. Secret’s out.” Blake’s smile spreads like a thrill across his lips.

“You’re a rotten man, messing up my system like that,” I chastise Blake affectionately, setting the mugs down on the desk beside him. “Misfiling books. Putting them face down to crack their spines. You probably fold over corners and roll softcovers too.”

He grins shamelessly and pulls me onto his lap. I shift to straddle him, my arms around his neck. Blake leans his forehead against mine, then kisses me thoroughly.

I forget my complaints. Forget everything as he draws me down to the bed, and we start over again.

It’s some time later when we drink cold tea.

…

Eventually, we get downstairs, a bit too giddy and happy. The shop’s warm. Something smells of cinnamon, and I spot Gemma’s tea on the counter. There’s a couple of customers browsing in the shop, which still looks amazing after our hard work restoring it after the filming.

Gemma grins at us.

“So, you found each other, then?” she teases.

We gaze at each other. Our smiles are too broad to hide. What is this light-hearted feeling that’s taken over me? Unthinkable.

“We did,” I say when I come back to my senses. Blake squeezes my hand. “How’s the shop?”

“Still standing, as you can see.” Gemma waves a hand around. It looks as it did when I left, all the boxes gone, the shelves full and in order. It looks better than ever, to be honest.

“Are you fine to stay on today and help? We were just going to go out for brunch.” It’s late in the day for breakfast, practically lunchtime. My stomach rumbles a bitter complaint.

“Yes. Now shoo.”

Laughing, we head out and down to Charlie’s café for some brioches and coffee. If we stay long enough, we could hit up their lunch special too.

“Welcome to our new reality,” I say softly to Blake once we’re seated by the windows of the café, bustling with customers. Crockery clatters behind us, the shriek of the steamer. I’m holding a flat white. Blake got us a buffet of pastries to work through.

“A fantastic reality,” he says affectionately. It’s surreal, seeing him here. Together with me. His blue eyes are warm, his hair still slightly damp from the shower.

Blake gazes at me, expression soft. What’s he thinking? Feeling? “I can’t believe I’m here with you,” he murmurs. “It’s like a dream.”

“I can’t believe it either.” A thrill runs down the length of my spine. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to stop smiling, but that’s a tiny price to pay compared to the idea of life without Blake.

“I’ll keep you, of course,” I say.

Blake laughs delightedly. “I’d be lucky to be a kept man,” he teases. “I can at least be useful with making dinners till I hear back on my auditions. Whatever I end up getting—or not—I can do based from London.”

“Brilliant.” I’m so happy it’s embarrassing.

“And there’s films for auditioning here too. I’ll be okay,” Blake assures me. “Something will work out.”

“I think for you, it will. You work very hard. And…you’ve got Instagram.”

“I have a few sponsorships and things, but it won’t keep me fed. Or pay the rent,” Blake concedes. “I mean, I’m happy to wait tables in the meantime like any good struggling creative if I need to, though. I also have some savings to carry me for a little while.” He frowns slightly at me. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“The shop.” He lifts his eyebrows meaningfully at me, pausing to take a bite of his croissant. “How are things?”

“Well.” I redden slightly. “Obviously I’ve been away and I don’t have the latest. I have massive bills because of some recalculations and I need to pay them. But I don’t think I can afford it and probably will need to sell…which means disappointing my mum. More than that, I won’t be able to help her.” I give Blake an unhappy look.

“Is there any other option?”

I hesitate. Confession time. I have to face the simple reality that I have no clue how to run a successful shop on my own without help. “I saw an ad for some business courses. I might take those and learn a few things so I don’t make a right cock-up of the whole thing like I’ve been doing.”

“Well, if you want, I can help.” Blake’s gaze is steady. “Starting with a marketing plan. I think you can turn things around, to be honest. I mean, if you want to, that is.”

I frown. “How?”

Everything with the shop feels so daunting. I want to save the shop. Badly. For my family, for me. But, honestly, on my own it’s exhausting. And I don’t have the business head for things like my dad did, plus bookselling is a lot different now than even ten years ago.

“You just need to find your niche,” Blake explains. “People still go to indie bookshops. Why not Barnes Books? You just need to sell what it is that you offer versus the big chains. Like—a totally different experience, customer service, that sort of thing. And then when the shop’s doing better, then you’ll be free to do more of what you want.”

I blink. There are no plans to sell to Percy Green, or any megashops, his letter tossed away. With the income from filming, and Blake’s ideas, there’s a strong chance Barnes Books might make it after all. “I want the shop to do well.”

“Course. But you told me that you write poetry?”

A furious blush comes. I glance away. Oh shit. In some moment of weakness, I did say that. It’s true. But I’ve never told anyone before. Only Blake, now. “Well, I’m far from a proper writer.”

“Do you like it, though?”

“I love it,” I admit.

“Then, at the very least, you should explore that. And I can help with the shop. Not just plans. But you’ve got Gemma and you can teach me. And things will be okay.”

I gaze at him, overwhelmed. Setting my coffee down, my chest is tight. Something like gratitude washes over me. “You really would stay in London? And do all of this? For me?”

Blake’s expression is soft. Open.

“I love you, Aubrey.”

God. This man.

“I love you too.”

“And I want a future with you. If you’ll have me. After everything.”

“I…yes.” I swallow hard, searching his eyes. “I very much want that—a future with you.”

The din of the café fades, just us in here despite the clatter and crowd. Together, we’re at a beginning, a fresh start. I don’t know what that future is, but that’s all right, because Blake’s in it.

When we return after brunch, Gemma’s running a duster over the shelves.

We all pause to have a break around the front counter with the coffees we brought. Behind us, shoppers are browsing. Even better, we’ve already had sales. If the closure sparked renewed interest in Barnes Books, so much the better.

Blake leans over to kiss my cheek and I laugh, chiding him good-naturedly. “You’ll make me spill my coffee. Again.”

“Oh, that’s not the only thing I’ll make you spill…”

“My ears!” Gemma clamps her hands over her ears, shuddering. “God.”

Blake pulls me into another kiss. I wrap my arms around him in response.

“’Kay, but you two are adorable. Somebody give me their phone for a photo,” Gemma demands. Blake offers his phone up, then pounces to kiss me thoroughly, my lips, my face, even my ear. Laughing, I fall into him, his arms around me. Somewhere in the chaos Gemma snaps a couple of photos.

“I wanna buy a green book…” Blake drawls between kisses.

I can’t stop laughing. What’s he done to me? I never thought I could feel so light and free again. A glorious reality.

“Adorable,” Gemma confirms, handing the phone over.

We look, and there we are, Blake’s arms around me, both of us laughing. And we look happy and carefree. More important, I feel happy. And so does he. We’ve a new start before us. There’ll be days again when things are difficult, while we navigate life together, but today we’ll enjoy the simple joy of being together. This is a happiness that we’ve fought for.

“Do you mind if I post this on Insta?” Blake asks after we gaze at the photos, nuzzling me. His arm’s still around me as he expertly navigates his phone with one hand.

I smile, looking at him. His dark hair’s slightly messed up, sunglasses on his head, striking in a trim blue T-shirt that leaves little to the imagination and matches his eyes. “Go for it.”

Blake kisses me and posts our photo to an immediate cascade of hearts. Which is no match to the rhythm of our own hearts as we begin a new life together in London.