Home > Books > Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)(12)

Romance Rules for Werewolves (Charming Cove, #3)(12)

Author:Linsey Hall

“Perfect.” I joined her and took the books off the shelf, then carried them over to the squashy armchairs beneath the back windows. I leaned forward to squint into the darkening evening. There was a walled garden behind the building, and it was beautiful.

I smiled and sat, tucking into the books and devouring the information as Emma worked on a potion on the other side of the room. It was a companionable silence, and she already felt like a friend.

I’d found another place that felt like home—and come hell or high water, I would find a way to keep it.

Chapter

Eight

Isobel

By the time Emma finished her potions, it was nearly eight o’clock. I closed the books and put them back on their shelves, biting my lip so I didn’t ask if I could borrow them. Emma had been so welcoming that I was sure she’d have offered if it were possible. More than likely, the books were meant to stay in the library. Spell books like these were incredibly valuable, after all.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked as she led me downstairs.

“Some, yes.” I had a couple handy new tricks. “But I’d love to come back.”

“Absolutely. Anytime.” She smiled as she held open the door for me, then locked it. “Well, I need to run. Vivienne will be waiting for her order from Codswollop’s.”

I grinned and waved as she hurried down the street, then turned to look at the sea. The wind whipped off the dark waves, bringing a scent of salt and sea that I sucked deep into my lungs.

This place was amazing. Why had I spent so much of my life stuck in dreary London?

Oh, right. Tommy.

I shoved the thought of him away. He was no longer part of my life.

But what was I going to do with that life? Now that I didn’t have Tommy to take care of, I had free time. The evening spread out before me—a weird feeling, but a good one. It was too dark to do any work at Lavender House, and I didn’t fancy going back to the dusty, frilly flat that I was temporarily calling home.

I looked down the street in either direction, catching sight of a sign that said The Sea Shanty. Warm light glowed from the windows, inviting me in. As I neared, I realized it was a pub.

Perfect.

I walked toward it, noticing that across the street, there was a garden with tables overlooking the sea. The tables were repurposed old beer barrels, and the sight made me smile. It was kitschy, but in a charming way. The garden would be perfect for a sunny day, though it was far too windy and cool right now.

Instead, I turned toward the pub and pulled open the wooden door, and was immediately enveloped in warmth and good cheer. The interior was mostly warm wood, with nautical regalia on the walls. It was like stepping back in time, with the little fire burning in the hearth to the right and the small wooden bar with half a dozen leather barstools directly in front of me.

I approached the bar, smiling at the bartender, who was pulling Real Ale out of the polished brass spout.

“Welcome to The Sea Shanty,” she said. “What can I get you?”

“Are you doing food right now?”

“We are indeed, and I can recommend the steak and ale pie.”

“Perfect. I’ll have that when you’ve got a chance.” I pointed to the Real Ale she was pouring. “And one of those, please.”

“Not a problem. Find a seat, and I’ll bring it over.”

“Thanks.” I smiled and turned around, looking for a good table. There was a little one right by the fire, and it was just so charming that I couldn’t resist.

I took a seat, leaning close to the fire to read the little plaque beneath it: Burning Since 1602.

“Wow,” I said, unable to help myself. That was cool.

I turned back to the pub and spotted a familiar figure at a table on the other side of the room.

Rafe. And he was looking right at me, a scowl on his face.

How had I not noticed him when I’d come in? He seemed to command the room with his quiet yet massive presence. He definitely didn’t seem pleased to see me invading his space.

I grinned cheerily at him and waved.

“Do you know him?” the bartender asked as she approached with my drink.

“Rafe? Yes. A bit. Does he come in here often?”

“Often enough, but he keeps to himself.” She shot him a glance. “A shame, really. He could keep to me as much as he likes.”

“He’s not very social?” Even as I asked the question, I knew the answer. Of course he wasn’t social.

“Hardly.” She set the beer down. “Rumor has it he’s quite well off. They say he made a bunch of money in London, investing or something, then moved out here to build boats as a hobby.”

That made sense, given what I’d seen in the workshop.

She smiled. “Your pie will be out soon.”

I drank my beer and looked at Rafe, who’d turned away from me. Could I possibly annoy him into leaving the boathouse?

Probably not, if he thought he owned it. Ah, well.

The bartender delivered the pie, and it was as delicious as she’d promised. They really knew how to do food here in Charming Cove, if the coffee shop and this pub were any indication.

When I finished my dinner, I decided to move over to the bar. It was getting too warm by the fire, and I wanted another pint before I headed back for the night. I was tired, but I didn’t want Rafe thinking he was driving me away from The Sea Shanty.

The bartender smiled as I approached, and began to pull me another pint. I took one of the barstools and asked, “Has that fire really been burning since 1602?”

“Never put out.” She passed me the beer. “And there’s the ghost of a female pirate here, Mary MacAlain. They say she cut off the balls of the pirate who stole her ship.”

I winced, then grinned. “Well, she certainly didn’t take any shit, did she?”

“An icon.” Her gaze went to someone over my shoulder, and she smiled. “Not that I’m planning to cut off any balls, Charlie, so don’t worry.”

A warm laugh sounded from behind me, and I turned. A handsome man with friendly features and warm brown eyes smiled at me, then nodded at my drink. “One of what she’s having.”

“Coming right up.” The bartender got to work on his pint, and he turned to me.

His smile was warm. “Pity you haven’t finished your drink. I’d offer to buy you one.”

His tone was distinctly flirty, and I smiled. He was about my age and seemed like a nice guy. He definitely gave off good guy vibes, but I’d just spent all of my adult life with Tommy, so what did I know?

“I’m Charlie.” He held out his hand, and I took it, immediately noticing the warmth of his handshake. It was a good guy handshake, as far as I could tell.

Something made me look over at Rafe. He was staring directly at us, and there was something in his gaze that I didn’t recognize.

I turned back to Charlie. “I’m Isobel. New in town.”

“Oh, yeah?” He smiled and took the seat next to me, then immediately stood again. “I should have asked. Is this seat taken?”

“Only if you sit there.”

He gave a relieved laugh and sat. “Great.”

The bartender handed him his beer, and we got to talking. He was a plumber, which I found to be immensely exciting, considering the fact that I had four broken toilets and exactly no plumbing skills, but I didn’t mention the house yet. It was clear what the town thought of that house, and I needed to make this guy like me if I was going to ask him to help. It was sly, but I was desperate.

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