Charlie put his fists to his hips and turned in a full circle, taking everything in. “You did all this with the measly budget we gave you?”

Kincaid grinned proudly. “Ash and I know how to stretch a dollar. A big part of it was cleaning things out and paring down some of the stock. We’re going for more of a curated look. Like your local bookseller has hand-picked each one with love. The artisanal approach is very in right now. Why not apply it to books?”

Ash’s chest filled with affection for Kincaid. She’d worked really hard on getting this place looking just right—modernish but not losing the small-town charm. She’d pulled off a miracle in record time, and her love of the place was evident in every design choice she’d made.

Ash pointed toward the general fiction area. “We’ve rearranged a lot of the shelves to help with flow. There are still a lot of books in stock, but it gives the illusion of more space and breathing room.”

Kincaid grabbed Grace’s hand, guiding her and Charlie to follow her to the front aisles. “And this is one of my favorite parts. Ash had the idea to bring in the local flavor with shelf-talkers. Instead of just employees displaying their recommendations, I asked a number of local business owners, high school kids, and just regular people in town to recommend their favorite book and write why on these little cards. That way when tourists come in, they’ll get personalized recommendations from the people in town.”

Charlie bent to read some of the shelf-talkers they’d set up—books placed cover out with little handwritten recommendation cards beneath them. He grinned. “Of course Dorothy down at the bakery would recommend a mystery about a pie shop.”

Grace laughed, and a stray lock of her auburn hair slipped free of her signature twist. She tucked it behind her ear. “And look, Dr. Amanda, the pediatrician, recommended a horror book with zombies. How funny.”

“Hardware Store Jim says this book changed his life.” Charlie held up a copy of Bruce Springsteen’s autobiography and chuckled. “Who knew?”

Grace picked up Ash’s first book, which had a shelf-talker in Kincaid’s handwriting that read, A page-turner by a gifted homegrown author that will keep you up all night. Just don’t get attached to the bird.

Grace chuckled and turned to Ash, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I love this idea so much. I love that you wanted to bring the local community into the shop.” She looked back and forth between him and Kincaid. “I’m so thankful and proud of the both of you.”

Warmth filled Ash, and his eyes started to burn. Hell. He took a deep breath, trying to get control of his emotions and not cry, but the word proud was like a chicken bone lodged in his throat. He couldn’t get past it. Had his own parents ever said that? “You don’t need to thank us. It was our pleasure. You’ve done so much for us over the years.”