Every Bookshop Needs a Cat (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 2)

Anna

Author's Note:

If you would like to hear my thoughts on the chapter you're about to read, please check out my Instagram or my Facebook (links in the comment to this paragraph) <3

Love,

K. xx

***

Anya started laughing quietly when she tripped over her feet the third time.

"What?" Klaus asked softly and smiled at her.

"I'm so tired," she said and, as if to confirm her words, yawned. Whenever she did, her ears rang, so she missed his answer. "What?" she asked.

She had both her hands wrapped around his arm, her whole body pressed into him tightly. He'd been right in the morning, she was feeling significantly more cuddly than usual. She'd even call it 'clingy' back in her old life - except, she would remind herself, this was her reality now. Being with Klaus, having him in her life - it was real, and not just for now. And no 'clinging' seems to be enough for the man. He keeps asking for more, she thought in amusement.

Anya gave him an adoring look. With his hair tousled; his loose tie, hanging around his neck; his jacket in his right hand, thrown over his shoulder... How can a person be so surreally beautiful?

"I said it's funny that you're tired now, considering how you've been working physical jobs for years," he said and met her eyes. "What?"

"You look so... healthy," Anya said, feeling suddenly embarrassed by her ogling, and evading mid-sentence.

He barked a throaty laugh. "Well, thank you, darling. You feed me well."

"Technically it's Mrs. Little who feeds you," Anya said, her cheeks starting to burn.

He clearly could see through her ridiculous mumbling.

"I was making an innuendo, älskling," he chuckled. "All jokes aside, I'm tired too, and my back is sore," he added with a small cringe. "Nothing major, but I don't think I'm going to the wedding after all."

"It's getting dark already," Anya said. "Do you think we missed all of it?"

"You can trust a Fleckney wedding to last till midnight," he answered cheekily. "So I'm sure you can still get your cake."

He nudged her sideways playfully, and she gave him a pretend glare. They slowly made their way along the same road they'd taken in the morning. The air around them was calm and fragrant, and Anya listened to the evening birds and grasshoppers.

She could see the lights and hear the noise of the party from quite afar, and they circled the Hall, trying to sneak in through the side entrance reserved for deliveries. Still, they'd bumped into a couple of small groups of guests wandering the gardens. Thankfully, they blended right in with the rest of the celebrating crowd with their dishevelled looks and excessive PDAs.

Anya quickly checked her mobile. There were no messages from Varya, but it was to be expected. A few hours ago she'd let Anya know that Maisie, Rhys Holyoake's sister, was there with her daughters. Varya knew the girls well. Sam's children were there too. Altogether, the little'uns, as they were called in Fleckney, were having lashings of fun, doted on by the Holyoakes and by other locals such as the Harrises and the Whitlaws. It takes a village, indeed.

Anya and Klaus were almost at the door, when someone called out to her. She was distracted, trying to catch the echo of the music coming from the main tent, curious about the Swedish woman they'd met earlier - and it took Anya a second to realise that it was Martin heading their way. Anya halted, and Klaus stopped as well, without releasing her hand that he was holding.