Much Ado About You

My belly could really do without those biscuits, and I had fitting into a wedding dress to think about sometime in the near future.

I was getting married.

It was so surreal.

“Well, the young Elliot and Viola Tait situation has taken attention away from Roane Robson, and it baffles me,” I heard a voice say in the aisle behind me and felt my heart pound at overhearing gossip pertaining to Roane.

“Oh, I know,” a second woman said, “you would think one of his closest friends would talk to the lad. Obviously, he’s let that American overcome his good sense with her talents in the bedroom. I’ve heard Americans are very loose in that respect.”

My jaw dropped.

Say what?

Glaring through the shelves of products, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited to hear if they said more. Their voices began to travel as they moved.

“Clearly she’s muddled his good sense. Never mind the ridiculous notion of marrying someone you’ve only known for three months—”

“Oh yes, we’re not the only ones who think he’s being reckless.”

“He should be settling down with a girl from good English stock. Even a Scot would be better than an American.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Scottish blood,” the other woman sniffed. “I’m Scottish on my mother’s side.”

“Oh, I meant no offense, Harriet.” A gray-haired lady came into view at the top of my aisle. In a light sweater and a long skirt, her back hunched slightly, the woman was named Lilith something or other. I knew who her companion was before the blue-haired lady in the pantsuit appeared at her side. Lilith and Harriet were two of the oldest villagers, but the bracing coastal life had made them hardy. If it weren’t for their severely wrinkled faces, it would be hard to tell they were in their eighties by the sturdiness of their bodies and youthful gait.

I’d admired them from afar.

Not so much now.

They turned toward my aisle and both froze in shock to see me there.

Pressing their lips together tightly, they blanched as I walked slowly toward them, eyeballing them in disapproval.

The truth was I’d known there would be talk about how quickly Roane and I had fallen in love and decided to marry. We’d discussed it lying in bed and decided we wouldn’t care what other people thought. We knew that this, us together, was what we’d been waiting for our whole lives.

Peering down my nose at Harriet and Lilith, I murmured, “Ladies,” as I passed them without confrontation. I saw their expressions slacken with surprise, but I wasn’t going to waste energy on two old gossips who had nothing better to do. People would always talk, but as long as the people I cared about were happy for Roane and me, I couldn’t care less what anyone else thought.

When I returned to the bookstore, my skin still prickling a little with the encounter despite my inner pep talk, I moved toward the back staircase and stopped when I heard the giggle from upstairs.

Damn.

I’d given Lucas and Viola permission to use my apartment for privacy. Of course, I knew what “privacy” meant and trusted Viola to use the guest bedroom and not mine, but I’d expected them to be done by now. Why I’d naively assumed that, when they were both twenty-year-olds with unending stamina, I didn’t know.

Rolling my eyes, I moved back into the store, dumped my stuff behind the counter, and flipped the sign to open.

I had so much to organize over the next two weeks. Penny was ecstatic that I wanted to buy the bookstore. I was less ecstatic about what it would cost to buy the building. It would eat up the entirety of the life insurance money my dad had left me. That money would have bought me a huge house with land in Indiana. On the other hand, I’d need double that to buy a really nice two-bedroom apartment in the heart of the West Loop in Chicago.

Since it would take longer than two weeks for all the legal stuff to be finalized and Roane and I didn’t want to rush a wedding, I’d applied for an extension on my work visa. Penny had provided another letter to say I would be continuing on as an employee at the bookstore for three more months.

We were waiting on approval for that, but worst-case scenario, Roane and I would marry at a registrar’s office so I could stay in the country, and then we’d plan a proper wedding later. For now, I was planning as if the visa extension would come through. Which meant I had my lawyer on the sale, and myself on organizing a trip to the States to tie up loose ends there. And to say goodbye.

The thought of saying goodbye to Greer, Mom, and Phil choked me up every time. But I knew I was doing the right thing because there was no niggle in my gut that suggested there were hidden doubts somewhere in my conscience. I knew marrying Roane and moving to Alnster was one hundred percent the right thing to do. How many people could really boast such certainty when making a huge decision about their life?