01_The Best Gift Read Online Free Page B

his own ears.
    “I think God would appreciate it if we took a moment to admire His handiwork, don’t you?”
    “I’m sure God has better things to think about. If He cares at all.”
    A.J. raised one eyebrow. “Do I detect a note of cynicism in that comment?”
    Blake shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s just say I haven’t seen much evidence that God cares.”
    A.J.’s eyes grew sympathetic. “That’s too bad. Because He does.”
    Blake frowned impatiently. “Look, can we just get down to business? Because we’ve only got an hour before the shop opens, and I’d like to show you around before the customers start coming.”
    “Absolutely. I’m ready whenever you are.”
    He stepped aside, and as she swept past he caught a faint, pleasing fragrance. Not floral. Not exotic. Just…fresh. It seemed to linger even after she moved away.
    A.J. took a moment to look over the shop, something she hadn’t done Friday night. As she completed her circuit, her gaze returned to Blake. He was still at the door, and he was staring at her. She couldn’t quite read the expression in his eyes, but it looked as if he’d found something else to disapprove of. Her chin lifted a notch.
    “Anything wrong?” She tried to keep her tone mild, but a note of defiance crept in.
    Blake studied her attire. She wore a white peasant-type blouse in some wrinkly fabric, and a funky bronze cross hung from a chain around her neck. An unusual metal belt cinched her impossibly small waist. Her skirt, made of several progressively longer layers of what appeared to be a patchwork of fabrics, brushed her legs mid-calf. If his attire bordered on preppy, hers could well be described as hippie. Which did not evoke happy memories.
    “Mr. Sullivan, is something wrong?” she repeated more pointedly.
    He frowned. “I haven’t seen clothes like that in a long time.”
    She looked down and smoothed her skirt over her hips. “Probably not. They’re from a vintage clothing store I discovered in Chicago. Pretty cool, huh?”
    Actually, he had another word for her attire. But he settled for a less judgmental term. “Interesting.”
    The look she gave him told him very clearly that she knew exactly what his opinion was. And that, in turn, she had judged him to be stuffy, uptight and conventional. “Very diplomatic. I wasn’t sure you had it in you.” Before he could respond, she turned back to the shop. “So, how about that tour?”
    Blake thought about responding to her comment— then thought better of it. He had to work with this woman for the next six months, and it would be to both their advantages if they made an effort to get along.
    “Sure. Let’s start with a walk-through.”
    The shop wasn’t huge, and A.J. only made a few comments as Blake showed her around. There was a small area for children’s books, and sections devoted to books on travel, cooking, fiction, gardening and general non-fiction. There was also a reading nook, with four comfortable chairs, and a coffee and tea maker tucked in a back corner. A small stockroom and tidy office were behind a door marked “private.” Two big picture windows flanked the front door, and each featured displays of the latest releases. The older building was well-maintained, with a high ceiling and hardwood floors, and A.J. felt comfortable in the space immediately. Just as she’d felt comfortable in the tiny apartment she’d found Saturday. It, too, was in an older building, in a neighborhood that had obviously seen better days. But it was safe and in the early stages of renewal, the real estate agent had assured her.
    When the tour was over, Blake waited for her to say something.
    “This is a great space,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “It’s sunny and bright and inviting. There’s a nice selection of books. And the layout is…interesting.”
    She’d borrowed the word he’d used earlier to describe her attire, and Blake gave her a suspicious look. “What does that mean?”
    She