Storm Cloud

STORM CLOUD J.S. Jasper Copyright Copyright © [2023] by [J.S. Jasper] All rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Cover Designer: Roy Nottage Editor: R. A. Wright Editing Formatter: KB. Row Contents Dedication Foreword Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Epilogue About the Author Dedication For all the grumpy girls. Foreword It’s always a love story. Chapter One There’s nothing Sophie enjoys more than a bright, sunny winter morning, where the last of the red leaves scatter the pavement. She loves the way she can see her own breath as she bunches her shoulders to hide her face in her knitted red scarf. She loves the way people’s cheeks turn pink from the cold, and the smell of peppermint hot chocolate in the air. She loves when she can sit in her bookstore with a to-do list she’s allowed to ignore and a mug of tea in her hand. Winter is her favorite time of year. Shame those days are few and far between. It’s a gray, cold winter afternoon when Sophie smiles for the first time that day. It might be because she finally had the radiators replaced in her bookstore, so it’s no longer freezing the second it hits October. She can sit behind her counter with a book, only in a thick jumper (even though it’s starting to snow outside), and ignore the growing list of errands she needs to complete. It might be because she took the first sip of a new flavor of tea and decided it already ranks third on her list of top teas. It might even be because her order of new books came in this morning, and one of her favorite things to do is look at the pretty covers before they’re sold and her customers add their own message inside before giving it to that special person in their life. It’s probably because she saw a man slip on the icy sidewalk and he looked a little like a cartoon character. He’s fine, obviously—he didn’t even hit the floor. It barely holds her attention for longer than four seconds. Instead, her eyes drift to the dusting of snow collecting on the outside of the wooden window frames. If the snow lasts long enough, she might even remove the fake snow she used to decorate the store windows two months ago in preparation for Christmas. Still, Sophie lets her smile linger, holding on to the warm feeling until she feels she’s probably acting a bit creepy. She’s not sure how else to get through Christmas and New Year’s to February if not for romanticizing the little things. The red noses of people rushing to buy a book for a loved one, or the teenage girl who comes in every Saturday with exactly the right change for the next installment in the fantasy series Sophie read when she was a child. She tries to find something good in everyone that comes into the shop, though she’ll never tell them any of these things. They’re a secret, just for her. And if that fails, she’ll stretch her imagination to the people walking past. Her secret weapon to get through life is to find the happy little things and keep them close to her chest so she never has to share her happiness with anyone. Because if she shares them, they can take them from her. Besides, then she might actually have to talk to someone, and she’s not about to do that if she can help it. Sometimes it’s harder than she would like. Like when there’s a parent who doesn’t really interact with their child when they’re clearly so excited about what they want to read. At least they’re reading at all! When that happens, Sophie slips a cute bookmark between the pages of their book and imagines how their face will light up when they find it later. Sometimes, though, sometimes it’s way too easy to find things to like. For example, the guy that just barreled through the door, almost sending the bell flying. He has a smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, and freckles are one of Sophie’s favorite things. And that isn’t even the best thing about him! His chestnut hair is wild like he just took off a hat, even though she can’t see one in his hands. His nose is red, and he keeps scrunching it in a way that suggests he’s trying to warm it up. He stumbles over his own feet as he shakes the snow from his broad shoulders. The shop brightens with every step he takes. He’s adorable. Sophie wonders what he’s here for. His eyes fly across the shelves so fast he can’t possibly be reading any of the titles, but she doesn’t mind. She watches his eyes widen with every step he takes to get closer to her register. The store isn’t huge—two main aisles stacked high with new and second-hand books—so it doesn’t take him long to get to her. His eyes widen further as he stops in front of her, like he was expecting the shop to be unmanned or something. Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. “Hi, hello . . . erm,” he stutters, gripping his backpack like he also has no idea why he’s here. “Hi,” Sophie replies, placing her bookmark back and giving him her best customer service face.