Chapters (45)
Jo’s eyes widened further, so much so in fact that she feared they might pop out of her head. ‘Noah Simpson! Please tell me you’ve heard of Ewan McLachlan? The famous Scottish crime writer? It’s a massive coup for your fiancée here to get him to Derry and into the shop. His reading has been booked out for months.’
Noah shrugged.
Libby tutted, clearly sharing Jo’s disbelief. ‘Noah, there are posters of him all over the shop. Brown eyes, messy brown hair. Intense-looking. Really kind of hot.’
‘Guys, you both know I don’t read much,’ Noah said, putting his hands up in faux surrender. ‘And as for hot – he’s not my type. He shouldn’t be yours either, Libby Quinn. You’re spoken for!’
Libby rolled her eyes. ‘I’m spoken for, not dead. I can admire a fine-looking man from a distance. You might not read much but you watch TV. And you loved The Knock and The Call on BBC – you know, those dramas with Inspector Tom McCreadie?’
‘Aaah!’ Noah said, his eyes wide in recognition. ‘I know who you’re talking about now. Yes, Jo, you should definitely get him to read your work. He’s amazing. I love a bit of McCreadie. Get him to make your book into a TV show too. I can be an extra!’
‘I’m only now feeling brave enough to let Libby read it, I’m not anywhere near being able to let someone like Ewan McLachlan read it,’ Jo said, the very thought making her stomach flip.
‘Sometimes you have to take a chance when one arrives at your door,’ Libby said, her voice soft. ‘I risked everything – every penny I owned – to open the bookshop because the property I had always loved came on the market. Look how that turned out. I love the shop, it’s doing better than I could’ve hoped for, and, well, I’ve your brother here in my life.’
‘For better or worse,’ Noah said with a smile. He looked at Libby and Jo watched as the pair of them kissed. Libby had made quite a compelling argument, but she wasn’t quite ready for taking a chance of that magnitude yet.
‘Some advice from Ewan is more than enough,’ she said. ‘You read it, and tell me what you think. God, I hope you like it. Or at least, I hope you don’t hate it. I’ll email it to you as soon as I get home.’
‘Good. I’ll drink to that,’ Libby said, and raised her beer bottle to clink it against Jo’s. Noah, of course, joined in and the three of them sat and chatted, and pondered all of the what ifs until they were so tired they simply had to sleep.