The Klaus Brothers Boxed Set

by penny watson

  Oskar looked at his brother with concern. “You sound like you’re ready for something serious, Wolf. No more playing around, huh?”

  Wolf nodded, not a hint of a smile on his face. “If I could find what Nicholas and Lucy have together, I would be all over that.”

  “Geez, don’t let Mom hear that or she’ll be match-making like crazy,” Sven said.

  Gregor put his paper down on the table. “I don’t even have time to date. My work is so nuts I barely sleep.”

  “You need a vacation, Greg. Why don’t you come down to Mexico with me for a break?” Sven asked.

  “Can’t. Not right now. The economy is tanking, if you haven’t noticed. I need to be on top of it twenty four-seven.”

  Oskar inconspicuously pocketed Kiana’s glasses, and then staggered into the kitchen in search of caffeine.

  Gregor followed and lined up cups next to the espresso machine. “What are your plans today?”

  “Just checking out a couple of bookstores.” Oskar accepted a tiny cup of the bitter brew from his brother and reached for a pitcher of cream. “So what’s the deal with the librarian, anyway? Does she have a boyfriend?”

  Greg raised a brow. “No. Trish dates a lot, but Kiana had a bad experience back in Hawaii, and I don’t think she goes out too much.”

  Oskar’s eyes shot up. “What sort of bad experience?”

  “Trish said some surfer dude did a serious number on her. Implied they would get married, and then showed up with a girlfriend, eight months pregnant. She told me Kiana was devastated.”

  “Bastard,” Oskar murmured under his breath.

  “I guess Kiana’s family is very laid back. Extremely laid back. They basically sounded homeless, living on the beaches for a good portion of Ki’s life.” Gregor paused to take a sip of coffee. “She looks sort of vulnerable, O. I hope you know what you’re doing. I would hate to see her get hurt.”

  “I have no intention of hurting her, Gregor. Honestly. I really like her. It’s not just about the kiss. We had a cool time talking, that’s all.”

  Gregor nodded. “Okay. Well, in case you’re interested in seeing her again…”

  Without missing a beat, Oskar responded, “Yeah, I am definitely interested in seeing her again.”

  Greg laughed. “My bet is she’ll be at Brockman’s today. Practically all of her free time is spent volunteering at that bookstore. Good luck, little brother.” He patted Oskar on the back and headed back to the living room.

  Oskar reached into his pocket and pulled out Kiana’s glasses. He held them up to the light and peered through the lenses. He started to laugh, realizing they were clear glass, with no prescription whatsoever. She was going to great lengths to hide behind her prim little uniform, but he knew better.

  All night long, the sexy moon goddess had tortured his dreams. Dreams so vivid and real, he had sand in his hair and dried salt water on his rumpled clothes. Kiana’s toned, curvy figure, clad only in a tiny bikini, had taunted him mercilessly on a on a tropical beach. He watched her paddle out the crest of turquoise waves, riding a well-worn surfboard, long locks of hair floating on the water’s surface. As the foam approached, her graceful body stood effortlessly on her board, and she rode a massive curl, hidden in the shadows. He could hear the exhilaration of her laugh within the crashing surf. She finished her ride with a swing of wet hair and a face-splitting smile, the first time he’d witnessed such unadulterated joy on her face.

  Kiana glanced over her shoulder just once, her aquamarine eyes sparking with challenge as she caught his gaze. Then she licked her lips slowly and disappeared behind some rocks. But not before he noticed the tattoo at the base of her spine, an enticing little mermaid ready to play. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was a glimpse of the real Kiana Grant. The librarian get-up was just a ruse.

  He’d lived in Glasdorf long enough not to be put off by his larger than life dream. He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant… the out-of-body experience while kissing Kiana at the party, the dream that was a bit too real. But he was determined to find out. That midnight kiss was off-the-charts hot, and he was thoroughly intrigued by the sexy librarian.

  He was a man on a mission—to break through Kiana’s dull exterior and let that little mermaid out to have some fun.

  He grasped the glasses in his hand and smiled.

  It was time for a bit of browsing in Brockman’s Books.

  Lys Bauer cautiously approached the front door of Ingo Hertz’s cottage. She clutched the package in her hands with a death grip, trying to relax but failing miserably. For goodness sakes, Lys, just leave the package on the stoop!

  She tiptoed up the cottage steps. A gust of wind whipped by and the door creaked open. Ingo’s house was dark inside, but it was strange the door wasn’t locked.

  “Ingo? Are you home?” She pushed open the door and peered into the darkened interior. A muffled thumping noise was coming from his library. “Is everything all right?”

  Normally, Lys would never consider trespassing into another’s home. But she couldn’t help but worry about Ingo. He’d seemed exhausted lately, with dark circles under his golden eyes. Of course, he had no idea that she watched him from afar. Even though the two of them attended school together long ago, as adults their relationship had changed. She was too shy to approach him, and Ingo seemed immersed in his work. But sometimes she caught him looking at her with such longing… it took her breath away. She wished she could rummage up the courage to talk to him, but the best she could do was sneak this gift to his doorstep.

  At least he would know how much she appreciated the beautiful figures he left for her. The little packages she found were the highlight of her day. Each figurine was lovingly crafted from a variety of woods, pale birch, warm cherry, rich mahogany. Ingo was an incredibly talented wood worker.

  Lys had secretly hoped Ingo would attend the Silvester celebration at the Lady’s Auxiliary Lodge. She assumed he was at Dag’s Bar with his friends, but she took extra care with her appearance just in case. Unfortunately, he didn’t show. Instead, she was forced to avoid that irritating Per Adler all night.

  She stuffed the package into her satchel and crept into the chilly house. “Ingo, where are you?” As her eyes acclimated to the darkness, she spied a figure lying on the floor of the library. “Oh! Ingo!”

  She rushed to the body and pushed him onto his back. An overwhelming stench of spirits inundated her senses, just as Ingo let out a loud snore.

  “Hmm. Too much partying last night with your friends, I guess.” She brushed a heavy lock of russet hair from his forehead and let her fingers linger for a moment on his face. An empty flask lay next to him. Lys reached for it just as an old, thick book bounced along the floor, knocking into her hand. It popped up and down a couple more times, then settled next to her with a sigh.

  “My goodness, that looks like the Zauberwort Buch. I haven’t seen that since my school days.” She picked up the dusty book and flask and set them on a table next to Ingo. An odd assortment of papers and objects littered the tabletop, surrounded by the burnt-out ends of candles. She picked up a mother of pearl button lying atop a scorched calendar sheet. That’s funny. This looks like a button from my favorite cardigan.

  “Uhhhhh… where am I?”

  Lys jumped back at the scratchy sound of Ingo’s voice. He rolled to the side, then pushed himself up slowly into a sitting position. “Lys? Is that you? Am I dreaming again?”

  He dreams about me? “I… I’m sorry to just barge into your house, but the door was open, and I wanted to make sure you were okay…” she babbled.

  “Oh, that’s all right, truly. Sorry you found me asleep on the floor. I assure you, I don’t make a habit of it.” His rubbed his eyes then stared up at her, licking his lips nervously.

  She reached out her hand. “Here, let me help you up. Should I make you a cup of tea and honey to settle your stomach?”

  Ingo reached for her, and she could barely contain a tremor. His ha
nd was strong and rough and warm. He squeezed her hand gently as he stood up on wobbly legs. She focused on the thread-bare rug on the library floor, embarrassed for him to see her blush.

  “Lys?” He didn’t let go of her hand.

  “Yes, Ingo?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh!” Her eyes flew up to his face. “I forgot. I brought you something. A… a thank you for all of the lovely figures you’ve been leaving for me.” She took a deep breath as she rattled on. “I love the animal carvings with the mothers and babies. They’re beautiful.” She looked back down at her feet, finding it hard to breathe as Ingo stared at her with his intense golden eyes.

  “You brought me a gift?” Ingo asked softly, taking a step closer to her. She could see his dirty work boots next to her clogs.

  She reached into the satchel strapped across her chest and pulled out a package, wrapped in tissue and ribbon. “I hope you’re not disappointed.” She peeked up at Ingo’s face and found him shaking his head.

  “I could never be disappointed with something you brought me. Never.” He seemed reluctant to release her hand, giving it one last squeeze before he reached for the gift. He shredded the wrapping and pulled out the scarf she’d knitted for him. It was dark blue, a color she noticed complemented his russet colored hair nicely. Unfortunately, it was a bit lopsided since it was her first attempt at knitting. There were a few dropped stitches, too.

  “I… love it. Thank you. Did you make this?” Ingo eyed the gift with a questioning look.

  “You don’t know what it is, do you?” She bit her lip.

  Ingo shot her a small smile. “No, no. Of course I know what it is.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a… pot holder, right?”

  Lys blushed and shook her head. “No… not a pot holder.”

  “Uh, a placemat?” His eyes were laughing at her.

  She giggled. “Not exactly. Keep trying.”

  Ingo held the garment up in front of him and turned it side to side. “I know. It’s a blanket for my cat.”

  She grinned and looked back at her feet. “My first try at knitting. Helene assured me it was so easy, but the scarf is a bit uneven… I’m sorry…”

  “A scarf!” Ingo shouted the words and quickly wrapped the woolen fabric around his neck. He tied the crooked ends together, and she had to admit the color did look wonderful with his sparkling amber eyes.

  “The next one will be better, I promise.”

  “It’s perfect. I love it.”

  Ingo stepped closer to her and reached for her hand again. Butterflies fluttered in the vicinity of her heart, and she could scarcely breathe.

  “Lys, would you like to stay for a cup of tea and honey?”

  She nodded, afraid her voice would crack if she spoke. As Ingo led her into the kitchen, she heard the Zauberwort Buch clucking behind them.

  Kiana straightened the wizard hat on Tyler’s head. “That looks great, Ty. Why don’t you help yourself to some punch and Harry Potter cookies?”

  “Thanks, Kiana. Old Man Brock told me he could get me an autographed copy of Harry Potter for a birthday gift this year. What do you think about that?”

  She laughed and ruffled the boy’s crop of red hair. He pushed a pair of round plastic spectacles up his freckled nose and smiled at her.

  “If anyone can do it, he can.”

  Tyler bounded off to the refreshment table, and Kiana continued pushing the book cart along the narrow aisle of the children’s section. Brockman’s Books was filled with happy children today, giggling, chatting, reading at the colorful furniture scattered throughout the front of the shop. Mr. Brockman wanted the tables next to the tall front windows, so the kids would have plenty of light. Strands of multi-colored Christmas ornaments dangled from tacks on the walls, and paper Chinese lanterns hung haphazardly from the tall ceiling.

  “Ki-annna! I need some help over here!”

  She laughed as Janie Murphy waved her arms frantically to get Kiana’s attention. The young girl was dressed in a Seuss-inspired Thing One outfit, and her twin brother Ryan was somewhere as Thing Two.

  “Hi Janie. Love your outfit, sweetie. What can I do for you today?”

  “Mr. Brockman keeps telling me to sound out the words. I’m trying, but some of these words are about a gazillion miles long, and they are just too hard…” Janie’s eyes filled with tears as she tapped the book in front of her. She crooked her finger and Kiana leaned down as she whispered solemnly, “Ryan’s a better reader than me.”

  Kiana scooped the tiny girl into her lap and propped the book up on the table. “I don’t believe that for a minute. You and Ry are both great readers. Okay, what seems to be the problem here?”

  Janie pointed to a word and hiccupped. “That one. I don’t get it.”

  “Remember what Mr. Brockman told you. When you see a big word, try to break it up into little bits. It’s easier to figure out that way. What’s the first part?”

  Janie’s forehead creased. “C… cat. Like a cat?”

  Kiana smiled. “Great. What’s next?”

  “Er… er… pill, like a pill you take when you’re sick?”

  “Good girl. Just like that. Keep going.”

  “Cat… er… pill… ar.”

  Kiana nodded encouragingly. “Now say it a bit faster. Let the parts all flow together.”

  “Cat… er… pill-ar, cat-er-pillar. Caterpillar! That’s it! I got it!”

  Kiana gave Janie a squeeze. “See, that wasn’t so hard. You’ll be reading chapter books in no time.”

  Janie smiled crookedly at Kiana. “I’ll bet Ryan can’t read the word caterpillar. I’m gonna challenge him to a read-off.” The slight girl jumped off Kiana’s lap and raced to find her brother.

  Behind her came a chuckle. Kiana glanced up to see Mr. Brockman shaking his head as he loaded more books onto the cart. “Nothing like a healthy bit of sibling rivalry to get those kids reading.”

  She smiled and stood up to help Mr. Brockman organize the cart. “I love the costumes. Did you see Anna dressed as Cinderella? So cute.”

  He nodded. “You better run and get a gingerbread man before they’re all gone, Miss Grant.”

  “I’ll stop over after I finish with these books. Almost done.”

  The old man slipped a pair of reading glasses down his nose and peered at her intently. He wore his usual uniform, saggy cardigan sweater with the buttons misaligned and trousers with suspenders. At his neck was a crooked bow tie, his signature fashion statement. The children added to his collection every year at Christmas time.

  “Hmm. You seem to be… well, glowing today. Did you have a nice New Year’s celebration?”

  “Glowing?” Kiana blushed to her roots, remembering her kiss with Oskar Klaus. “Um, it was fine. I’m not really into those crazy drinking parties. I went to a cocktail party in my apartment building.” She took a deep breath. “I met some… uh… nice people.”

  The storekeeper clucked and raised an eyebrow. “I can see that. Glowing a nice golden color today. Usually it’s darker. Bronze and shadowed. You’ve really lightened up.”

  Kiana was used to Mr. Brockman’s strange mutterings. She just laughed and shook her head. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to help with story time. Let me just shelve these books.”

  “All right.” Mr. Brockman continued to stare at her as she left, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  She steered the cart along the wooden floor, which creaked and groaned like an old woman. The farther she moved toward the back of the shop, the more quiet and peaceful it became. This was her favorite part of the store. Dark and silent. Comforting. It smelled like books, musty and old, hiding secrets, encompassing a history of readers within the stained pages. Yellow light reflected onto the cracked walls, cast from ancient Art Deco sconces, probably close to a hundred years old. She loved the pattern of the books lined up on the dark shelves, slices of every color of the rainbow, like a treasure chest filled with gems.

  S
he stopped near the last row, listening to the hum of the lights. It was here she felt safe and secure. Even as a young girl, living on Oahu, the place she loved most was not the beach or the cliffs or being submerged in the crystalline waters. It was curled up on the ratty orange sofa in the local library of Lahika, a stack of books spilling onto her lap. Nancy Drew, and Laura Ingalls, Island of the Blue Dolphins, A Wrinkle in Time. She read all of them and more.

  The sea breeze used to blow into the open, screenless windows, ruffling her long hair as she lost herself reading. It was only when twilight made it too hard to see, and Mrs. Kawaha, the librarian, gently removed her fingers from the pages that she remembered where she was. She would fill her sack with books until it strained under the weight, seams pulling, sharp edges banging into her back as she trudged along the dirt road. Each step away from the Lahika Library was bittersweet, propelling her closer to “home,” which could change on any given day. A tent on the beach, a hammock behind a bar, sometimes curled under a palm tree. She never knew who, if anyone, would be there, or what would be happening, and so she meandered slowly along the dusty streets putting off the inevitable.

  Kiana sighed thinking about her conversation with Trish. For eight years, she’d been on the mainland. For eight years she’d worked hard to leave her past behind and build a solid, structured life. Losing herself in a kiss with Oskar Klaus on New Year’s Eve was the last thing she needed. She knew damned well, and from bitter personal experience, what guys like Oskar Klaus were like.

  Although… for a few moments at the party, he’d almost seemed different.

  But she knew his type. That whole mellow boarder vibe, free love, no attachments, no worries. Just like Tom. Well, she wasn’t stupid. She’d learned her lesson. Mai ho’okaumaha ko’u hoaloha. (Don’t worry, my friend).

  Yeah, right.

  She did not want to reflect on Trish’s worries that her soul was shriveling up in this polluted city, still craving a sunny paradise. Kiana was satisfied with her life in Manhattan. She had her job, a steady income, her volunteer work with the children. She would never admit to her roommate that she dreamt of Oahu almost every night. Surrounded by the heady scent of frangipani blossoms, swimming in the warm waters with green sea turtles (Honu lu’au honu), burying her toes in the cool sand at night as she watched the sun set at Kahana Bay. She felt at times trapped within her cocoon of heavy coats and hats and scarves, desperate to break free, desperate to feel the flow of the water beneath her board and hear the rush of the surf in her ears. For now, she had to be content with walks in the park and melancholy dreams.