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“It would be great if it means getting rid of most of the stock,” I say. “If all goes according to plan, we can clear it ready for ordering a whole lot of new books.”

“I’ll be back later,” Dad advises. “But text me if Millie gets bored and I’ll come and pick her up.” He looks at Emma. “I’ll drop the bag off later.”

“Cool,” she says, and he heads out.

“What bag?” I ask.

“Nothing.” Emma picks up the carry tray. “I’ll be back with refreshments to keep you all going. Have fun!” Mysteriously, she winks at Mitch and heads out.

Something’s clearly going on, but the door opens and Jake comes in, distracting me.

“Morning,” he says. He’s a good-looking guy, and he’s been head chef at The Captain’s Table for a couple of years now. You can tell he’s a chef, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he has ADHD; he’s tall and lean, has boundless energy, and is always on the go.

“Morning,” we all say.

“Can I have a word?” he says to Mitch.

“Sure.” Mitch gestures with his head for him to follow him to the back of the shop.

As Jake passes the gift-wrapping table, he glances at Cate before walking over to meet Mitch at the door to the flat and disappearing upstairs.

I look at Cate. She’s the colour of a fire engine.

“Your face is all red,” Millie says.

“It’s hot in here,” Cate mumbles.

“It’s really not,” I say, amused. I’ll have to ask her about it later, though, because the queue outside is growing, and it’s time to open the shop.

And so begins the most fun day I’ve had in years. I assume that once the early rush has disappeared, customers will trickle in for the rest of the day, but I turn out to be completely wrong. By ten o’clock, the shop is packed. The cruise ship has arrived, so the tender brings tourists over every fifteen minutes. Most of them are retired people who love to read, and the idea of finding a bargain brings them into the shop. Lots of local faces appear too, everyone interested to see what stocking fillers they can find for loved ones.

At midday, the place is heaving. Cate is flat out at her gift-wrapping station, and Darcey joins her to help. Millie sits at the end, colouring, thrilled when the older ladies compliment her on her neatness, many of them offering her a koha—a Māori word for a gift—of a gold coin for one of the bookmarks.

Several of my friends turn up during the day to offer help. Blair comes in around eleven, tidies the tables, and brings out a few more boxes of books to fill in the spaces. Emma drops in paper bags of muffins and savoury scrolls at lunchtime to keep us all going. Harri arrives early in the afternoon with her guitar, and she starts playing carols in the corner of the shop, which really adds to the Christmassy atmosphere. When Paisley turns up, she sits with her and sings the lyrics, and most of the customers join in as they wander around the books. Lettie arrives, spots a flagging Millie, takes her over to the children’s section, and sits and reads a story to her and half a dozen children who come over to see what’s going on.

Early in the afternoon, I leave Lettie behind the desk temporarily and go over to the storeroom at the back to retrieve some more till rolls. I’m just sorting through a few boxes when someone says, “I wondered where you were.”

I look over to see Mitch coming into the room, pushing the door almost closed behind him. “Hello,” I say, amused. “What are you doing here?” He’s taken off his painting coveralls, but his face and hair are even more paint-spattered now.

“Just came to see how you’re doing.” His gaze skims down me like a laser, searing through my skin. “Wow, you look hot.”

I look down at my tee and shorts. “I’m wearing what I wore this morning.”

“I know. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re sex on legs and I want to kiss you.”

I laugh as he comes up to me, takes me by the hips, and turns me so I’m leaning back against the shelves. “What’s got into you?” His eyes are blazing, and my pulse speeds up.

“Dunno.” He bends his head and nuzzles my ear. “You smell amazing.”

I shiver with delight. “Mitch… someone will see…”

“Don’t care.” He kisses up my neck, then up my jaw to my mouth, and claims my lips.

I mumble a muffled complaint, then give in and wrap my arms around him. Mmm… stolen kisses are the best, hot and sensual and passionate. He delves his tongue into my mouth and presses his body up against me. His hands splay on my back, pulling me closer. Ooh, I love the way he kisses me, as if he’s been thinking about it all day, and now he can’t bear to tear himself away.

“Vix, have you got the—oh!” Lettie stops and says, “I’m so sorry.” Grinning, she backs away, out of the room.

We break apart, laughing, and my face flames. “Oh God.”